Marseille, France; 12/17/08 thru 12/20/08

I left Spain on Wednesday (the 17th), greeted by a beautiful sunny, warm day in Madrid. After saying my goodbyes to Julia and thanking her for letting me stay at her apartment during my stay in the city, I took the metro to the airport, which was only 1 Euro. This was really cheap considering that I paid around 8 pounds to get to the airport when in London and it was roughly the same distance.
Everything went smoothly at the airport and I boarded my plane to Marseille. The flight took about an hour and a half and when the pilot said that over Marseille it was cloudy I got a little worried. Passing over the Mediterranean was really amazing. The only images I could previously conjure up in my head echoed of the expanse of Greek civilization, with crystal blue waters lapping coasts of olive groves and rolling hills, and the words of Homer’s Odyssey or the plays of Sophocles ringing through my head. It was just as blue and beautiful as I could have imagined.
I started to get really excited when I saw the coast of southern France through the window. We landed at Marseille-Provence airport, which is actually about 10 km or so from the city itself. Once again I didn’t have to pass through any customs and no one checked my passport, probably because of the inter-EU thing again. I took a bus to the city and began to get my first glimpse of the southern French countryside.
Rolling hills and cliffs dot the landscape, and I couldn’t help but notice how there was graffiti on everything, and I mean absolutely everything. The sun was liberal in its warmth and inviting, unlike the veiled light of the Swedish sun, which enjoys hibernating like everything else during the winter. I also noticed how everything looked kind of ancient. The buildings really breath the past in a way that things in the U.S. just can’t.
Getting off the bus at the Gare Saint-Charles train station, I was able to find my hostel really quickly, as it was only about 50 meters away. I decided to take it easy that night as I was somewhat tired and since I wasn’t comfortable going out in Marseille at night.
The next day, I woke up, ate breakfast and headed out for my first day of exploring. It was sunny, relatively warm with a nice breeze and walking down to the vieux port was like walking through a conglomeration of different cultures, languages, food, music and clothing. The French have a joke that the first Arabic city that you pass through if you’re on your way to Algeria is Marseille, and one can kind of see what they mean, even though that kind of comment smacks of racism. There is a sizable northern African population living here and you’re just as likely to here Arabic as French by passers-by, or grab a kebab for lunch as much as you’d go to la pattiserie for a croissant. Vibrant clothing shops and Middle Eastern pop music punctuate a walk through Marseille’s side streets, and it just makes the city a lot more colorful and interesting in my opinion.
When you walk to the vieux port, the first thing you’re bound to notice is the Notre Dame de le Garde on top of a hill overlooking the city. It’s considered the symbol of Marseille in many respects, and I decided to hike up to see it for myself. It’s a church that is considered to have helped grant victory to the French resistance during WWII, obviously in a very spiritual sense. Walking through Marseille, with the liberal use of car horns by French traffic and people enjoying lunch on sidewalk cafes, I felt quite energized.
After climbing some hilly streets and explaining to a very nice French woman who asked for directions that I wasn’t from Marseille I made it to the Notre Dame, a bit winded but glad to have made it. I turned around, and I had to stop myself from gawking at the incredible view. You can see the whole city from the top of the hill, as well as a stunning view of the Mediterranean and the surrounding mountains. I probably took dozens of pictures. The inside of the church is rather pretty too, but most if not all of the European churches I’ve been in are.
I walked back down the hill after spending a fair amount of time at the church and went to the Catedral de la Major, which is the 6th biggest cathedral in the world, apparently. The architecture struck me as a mix between Christian cathedrals and Islamic mosques, as it definitely had some Middle Eastern and Northern African tinges of color and design to it. I was now in Panier, which is considered the oldest part of Marseille. I passed a memorial for the Jewish death camps during WWII, as many Jews were shipped out of the vieux port during the German occupation. I took pictures around Panier and of a particularly interesting complex that housed and isolated plague victims during an outbreak in 1720 in which 40,000 citizens were killed. I was able to walk in it and it reminded me of a Roman villa, with arched walkways and a simple square filled with sand and rocks. It was kind of eerie to be in the midst of a place where you knew that people had suffered miserably and died.
I had lunch at a little food stand in Panier and had to repeat myself several times what I wanted since my French isn’t the best, but it all went well in the end. These type of little food shops with stuff like pizza, kebabs, and sandwiches are everywhere in Marseille, and they’re pretty cheap which is nice. I was at one later and was confronted by a rather enthusiastic Frenchman who claimed to be a ski instructor and Olympic athlete from the 70s, which was pretty random.
I was able to meet a ton of cool people at the hostel I stayed at, interestingly quite a few Australians. They have their summer break right now so it makes sense that they want to travel around. We joked that like the universal neon lights that all of the pharmacies in France and Spain have (a big green cross), they should have a standard neon light for kebab stands, so people know they’re getting a guaranteed quality for their kebabs. That’s ridiculous I know but it was funny to talk about. I walked around and saw the sights with another American, a French girl from Brittany, and an Australian for most of the time I spent in Marseille.
One interesting thing about Marseille is that even though it’s a port city, and has a very multicultural population, there doesn’t seem to be as much racial or cultural tension there compared with London or other cities I’ve been to, for example. There is definitely a lot less tension than American cities like Chicago or Milwaukee have in regards to race. I suppose that is because Marseille has been a hive of multicultural exchange from the beginning. There is still segregation of neighborhoods to an extent but it seemed to be a voluntary thing, in that perhaps the northern African populations felt better sticking together, sharing a common language and cultural values. Maybe I’m being naïve but it’s just the impression that I got.
Watching the sunset over the vieux port, basking the city and the hills beyond in a wonderful golden/red radiance and breathing in the cool sea air, I smiled to myself and knew that I would remember this experience for a long time.