Monday in Marseille

The problem with travelling on a discount card is obviously there are always conditions. So my plan to leave EARLY on Monday morning for Marseille didn’t happen at all… Morning travel on Mondays is apparently peak, so no discount. 50% discount if I travel after 11am. Ok. Can’t argue with a 50% discount when you’re spending money that you know you’ll be working your ass off to pay back after the fun is all over… Since I don’t have my own personal computer to check train times, this meant that totally unprepared last-minute me ended up waiting at the station for several hours and ended up catching the midday train. Almost missed it too cos I was waiting at the wrong station… so that’s why the train wasn’t listed on the departure board!! Lucky I know Lyon like the back of hand now (pfft! Yeah right!), so I jumped very nonchalantly (very hastily) on a tram and made my way to the right station. Part Dieu instead of Perrache.

Caption - The station at Marseille

Either European trains are ALWAYS full of children or I just attract them. Mothers must want to sit next to me cos I look non-threatening and nice and friendly… seriously, almost every single train that I’ve caught I’ve had to sit next to children. Children as in under ten. Children as in those who don’t know how to keep their legs still so that they’re not kicking the passenger opposite them (ME!) or who keep dropping their toys and pens and pencils that require a lot of flexibility and movement that is just not my forte, or babies who scream for the entire four hour journey… you know, I really have nothing against kids. I love ‘em if they’re cute and friendly and ask interesting questions which seem obvious and easy to answer until you try and realise that actually they’re very complicated intelligent questions that you can’t answer at all… I love the way they laugh too cos you just can’t help but laugh with them. I have proof of this love: I have an md recording of my cousin Patrick laughing when he was about six or seven years old and I named it the best song in the world. See? I AM loving!! But most of all, I love kids when you can give them BACK at the end of the day. A four hour train journey is not exactly a lot, but think very compact space, lots of noise, me being bad at travelling in things that move cos they almost always make me sick (yes, I mean that in exactly the way it sounds - if only I just stayed still forever), being kicked in the shins way too hard and too many times and it makes you want to murder the little buggers..

Anyway, that was the train. Surprisingly, I hadn’t intended on writing about that, I’d almost forgotten it had happened and was totally ready to jump on another train and maybe head to Paris for a weekend) but I guess this is what happens when you do impromptu blogging…


I got to Marseille around 3.30pm… I hadn’t booked a hotel yet but I thought my standards had dropped quite a lot since Allix so it shouldn’t be hard to find something. I had an address in mind, I had a map, I was set! Now… how the hell do I get out of the station?? It took me half an hour to find my way out onto the street… yes, I am a doofus. Daughter of a doofus. Finding the hotel was surprisingly easy. I got a room with my with my very own bath AND toilet! You have no idea how privileged I felt at that moment. I even had a tv in my room. Yes, I did splurge. Come on! I was on holiday!! It was about 4.30 pm – 5 pm by the time I got all settled and not wanting to waste the day away, I ventured out for a walk with my Germen map. Yes.. I don’t know why I keep ending up with German maps but there you go. It had pictures and street names, that’s all that mattered.

Caption - the Notre Dame I could see but couldn't get to.. kinda like a rainbow really...

I went down to the lovely docks which really didn’t smell very lovely at all, I bought a baguette and some cheese and munched away very typical backpacker-like, tried VERY VERY hard to find a way to get to Notre Dame, which I could very clearly SEE but couldn’t get to. You’ll notice in my photos that Notre Dame is on a hill overlooking the city, much like Fourvière here in Lyon, but frekkin hell it got dark and I still kept finding myself walking away from it… so I went to a different church instead and took pictures of the very cool statue of Joan of Arc. Also managed to get some pics of a sunset in the city.



I forgot to mention that Marseille is in the middle of putting in tram lines that run down the main street of the city which before had no tram lines, so of course there are roadworks everywhere. The scary part, and I took pictures of this too, I don’t think the French have a very good idea of what is considered SAFE. I swear, I had had cranes lifting things over my head (!!!) while I was walking down the street.

Caption - oh look! a hole in the footpath! let's just lay some planks of wood over it, no one will notice...

Plus, everyone seems to be a super rush to get somewhere so within ten minutes I found myself power walking and pushing past people as if I knew where I was going… that sort of pace was just too much for me… When it got dark I went back to the hotel, had a lonnnnng bath and fell asleep to crappy American soaps dubbed in French. I actually understood a hell of a lot and not because my French is good but they tv shows were just sooooo incredibly deep and meaningful that much could be read from the over-exaggerated acting.

I realised then that I hadn’t watched tv since Brussels…

The next morning I got up super early, went for another nice walk looking once again for Notre Dame, finding markets instead. Trekked back to the train station, and headed to Nice.

I know some of you may be thinking I didn’t really spend enough time in Marseille. And I agree. But I only had a week. I took a look at what was there and it wasn’t what I wanted to do at the time. Plus, it had never been on my must-see list anyway. When I checked out the train tickets, I reasoned that stopping over in Marseille would not cost me any more than going straight to Nice. Also, I wouldn’t lose an entire day to travelling AND I’d get to see another city. If I liked it, I could stay. If I didn’t, I could move on. I’m not actually saying I didn’t like Marseille. I didn’t see enough of it to make a real judgement. But it’s all about the vibe. It was too hustle and bustle. Too fast. Too many people. Too many roadworks. I was tired. I wanted to see the beach within walking distance. I wanted company. I think it was just a little overwhelming...

Coming up next: NICE! You should all stay tuned cos Nice was f*cking awesome! I promise a spectacularly eventful and peopleful entry for next time.

love love

xx