Originally posted 10-20-2003
Despite unfavorable weather conditions, the weekend in Marseille was smashing. First let me say that my week in Grenoble wasn’t too bad either. I found out that I got accepted to the BU program which presents me with the opportunity to spend 5 months in Paris next semester, half of which will be spent in class, and the other half in a full-time internship in a French organization. That was exciting news. I also made major headway on the organization of my history paper. However, I got the sinking feeling that things were piling up to be done, I was slowly beginning to drown under them. I had planned this trip to Marseille over a month ago and I wasn’t going to back out ( I had already pushed it back a week). Part of me wanted to stay and work on my papers and send in all my forms for BU and write all the essays, etc. I also needed to go shopping to fill some holes in my wardrobe left by my American fashion tendencies and my forgetfulness at the gym. I don’t like to go shopping without goals and I had exactly what I wanted in mind: I wanted an off-the-shoulder shirt, some shirts with off-center zippers, a striped shirt, some running shorts, and some Adidas warm up pants. They may not seem like necessities, but they are once you see how people dress here. These clothes were, in my mind, absolute necessities for my enculturation process.
Despite unfavorable weather conditions, the weekend in Marseille was smashing. First let me say that my week in Grenoble wasn’t too bad either. I found out that I got accepted to the BU program which presents me with the opportunity to spend 5 months in Paris next semester, half of which will be spent in class, and the other half in a full-time internship in a French organization. That was exciting news. I also made major headway on the organization of my history paper. However, I got the sinking feeling that things were piling up to be done, I was slowly beginning to drown under them. I had planned this trip to Marseille over a month ago and I wasn’t going to back out ( I had already pushed it back a week). Part of me wanted to stay and work on my papers and send in all my forms for BU and write all the essays, etc. I also needed to go shopping to fill some holes in my wardrobe left by my American fashion tendencies and my forgetfulness at the gym. I don’t like to go shopping without goals and I had exactly what I wanted in mind: I wanted an off-the-shoulder shirt, some shirts with off-center zippers, a striped shirt, some running shorts, and some Adidas warm up pants. They may not seem like necessities, but they are once you see how people dress here. These clothes were, in my mind, absolute necessities for my enculturation process.
With the plans already in place, and not really wanting to spend all weekend writing papers, I packed my bags and headed to Marseille with forms to fill out and packets of information about Switzerland and the European Union to peruse on the train ride. I had heard the ominous weather reports of rain and chilly temperatures all Saturday with a break on Sunday, but you just have to brave it.
I arrived in Marseille around 5pm on Friday. I was supposed to meet my friend Amal from W&M there. She ended up arriving at 6:30. I had checked into the hotel and was walking back to the station to meet her when we ran into each other at the top of the Canebière. The Canebière is the main road in Marseille off of which all the trendy stores and touristy attractions are situated, and the end of which opens on to the Vieux (old) Port, the center of action in Marseille. Our hotel was in a prime location, right on the port. (As a note to future Europe travelers, even if you have to pay a little more, it’s well worth the money for a centrally located hotel.) We settled into the hotel and then we went out in search of dinner. We walked around for a while and finally decided to try La Kahena, specializing in North African cuisine. I had a chick pea and cumin potage appetizer which was spicy and delicious. My main course was couscous served with a clear, flavorful vegetable sauce that I loved. The waiter complimented us teasingly on our ability to clean our plates.
After dinner we walked around a little bit more then headed back to the hotel room to watch Strasbourg battle Marseille on the soccer field. I can’t get over how much I love soccer, especially in Europe. The fans, the game, the obsession, I love it all. We watched every minute of that game. Strasbourg won, 3 to 1, much to the dismay of our host city.
We woke up the next day with plans to start off at the office of tourism (the mandatory stop in every city) and then go on the boat ride to the Chateau d’If. We found out there that due to high winds, the boats were not going out that day. Disappointed but not daunted, we caught the bus and headed to the Basilique de Notre Dame de la Garde.
Marseille’s main attraction, it is situated on a huge hill that overlooks the entire city and is topped with a large golden statue of the Virgin Mary, easily seen from almost anywhere within Marseille’s city limits. It is very ornate with floor-to-ceiling frescoes and mosaics and gilded fixtures and altar pieces. It also has a nautical theme to it. Model boats are hung in mobiles from the ceiling in every vault. The best part about the church is the panoramas it provides of the city, but the rain sabotaged them for Amal and I. We walked around for a while at the church and then we headed back down the hill to the Vieux Port. We mingled with the people selling fresh fish they had caught that morning, and decided to go to the Abbaye de St. Victor. The church isn’t as ornate or grand as Notre Dame de la Garde, but it has a simple sort of elegance. It also has a 5th century crypt and catacombs. You can walk through narrow passageways and see where martyrs from 468 AD were buried. You can also still see some of their skeletal remains. Ancient relief panels that once decorated the tombs can still be seen as well. Adding to the ambience of the visit, the organist of the abbey began to practice a somber dirge as we descended into the crypt.
After we had finished at the abbey, we walked back to the Vieux Port past some interesting shops and made a mental note to return when they reopen after lunch (almost all French businesses close between the hours of 12 and 2pm for lunch). We headed into the shopping district, rather inadvertently, to find lunch. Thus began my reign of terror.
In one afternoon, I fulfilled my European fashion wish list with one exception. I found everything that I had wanted, exactly how I had pictured it. Wherever we felt the impulse, we went in. After we were done with the boutiques, we went to the Centre Commercial (Mall) which is built around the remains of Marseille’s Greco-Roman foundations. Marseille is the oldest city in France at 2600 years, so we saw the outlines of some of the structures that used to be the center of the town. I love that the new mall was built around the old mall, so to speak. The streak of good finds continued.
We went back to the hotel laden with bags and completely exhausted. After we had admired all our purchases, we watched a little rugby on TV (rugby is in the middle of its world cup right now) and then decided to go out for crêpes. We found our Nütella crêpes, savored every last warm, chocolaty bite, then went back to the hotel and crashed. We thought about going to a bar to watch the soccer match on TV, but we couldn’t muster the energy, plus it was still raining. We were banking on the promise of clearing weather the next day to complete our Marseille trip with a visit to the Chateau d’If.
We woke up the next morning and rushed down to the docks to check the status of the boats. “First departure, 9am” the sign read. Relief. My train left at 1:15 so we had just enough time to go out to the island, visit the chateau and admire the scenery, come back and get to the station.
We got on the boat which was an interesting mix of Japanese tourists, old salty chain-smoking Frenchman and their mangy dogs, and young Americans. Marseille is so colorful. There is an abundance of characters to be found, especially around the old port and in the fish market. Earlier that morning, a husband and wife fish-selling team were arguing playfully over what to do with the oysters and he sprayed her with the hose he was cleaning his fish with. It was hilarious.
The boat ride took about a half hour. I took an insane number of pictures of the blue water (*) and none of them do it justice. We arrived at the strong, white stone structure described in Alexandre Dumas’ Count of Monte Cristo. We walked through the cells of famous prisoners, saw where one general was burned alive, explored the caves and towers, and took even more pictures. The water surrounding the port and at the Island was absolutely gorgeous: crystal clear, deep blues and greens, seemingly pollution-free. The rocks surrounding the island were begging to be climbed on, and as it is prohibited, that’s exactly what we did. After we were finished with the visit of the fortress, we climbed down to where the cliffs met the water and admired the scenery.
We left the island around 11:30 and rode back to the Vieux Port. We treated ourselves to some Haägen Dazs (rounding out the weekend of indulgences) and then picked up our “gi-normous” (as Amal would say) mounds of shopping bags at the hotel and headed to the St. Charles station, conveniently located at the top of the second largest hill in Marseille with 4 sets of perilous staircases to conquer before you reach the top. When we did accomplish that Herculean task, we were proud, but spent. My train was about to arrive so we said our goodbyes and I boarded the TGV back to Grenoble.
Despite the unfortunate weather and scheduling curves thrown, Marseille was good to us. I am glad to be back and excited for school tomorrow to debut my new euro-look.
*Sadly, none of these photos have survived except the print I bought in Marseille that is framed, hanging on my wall.
Marseille’s main attraction, it is situated on a huge hill that overlooks the entire city and is topped with a large golden statue of the Virgin Mary, easily seen from almost anywhere within Marseille’s city limits. It is very ornate with floor-to-ceiling frescoes and mosaics and gilded fixtures and altar pieces. It also has a nautical theme to it. Model boats are hung in mobiles from the ceiling in every vault. The best part about the church is the panoramas it provides of the city, but the rain sabotaged them for Amal and I. We walked around for a while at the church and then we headed back down the hill to the Vieux Port. We mingled with the people selling fresh fish they had caught that morning, and decided to go to the Abbaye de St. Victor. The church isn’t as ornate or grand as Notre Dame de la Garde, but it has a simple sort of elegance. It also has a 5th century crypt and catacombs. You can walk through narrow passageways and see where martyrs from 468 AD were buried. You can also still see some of their skeletal remains. Ancient relief panels that once decorated the tombs can still be seen as well. Adding to the ambience of the visit, the organist of the abbey began to practice a somber dirge as we descended into the crypt.
After we had finished at the abbey, we walked back to the Vieux Port past some interesting shops and made a mental note to return when they reopen after lunch (almost all French businesses close between the hours of 12 and 2pm for lunch). We headed into the shopping district, rather inadvertently, to find lunch. Thus began my reign of terror.
In one afternoon, I fulfilled my European fashion wish list with one exception. I found everything that I had wanted, exactly how I had pictured it. Wherever we felt the impulse, we went in. After we were done with the boutiques, we went to the Centre Commercial (Mall) which is built around the remains of Marseille’s Greco-Roman foundations. Marseille is the oldest city in France at 2600 years, so we saw the outlines of some of the structures that used to be the center of the town. I love that the new mall was built around the old mall, so to speak. The streak of good finds continued.
We went back to the hotel laden with bags and completely exhausted. After we had admired all our purchases, we watched a little rugby on TV (rugby is in the middle of its world cup right now) and then decided to go out for crêpes. We found our Nütella crêpes, savored every last warm, chocolaty bite, then went back to the hotel and crashed. We thought about going to a bar to watch the soccer match on TV, but we couldn’t muster the energy, plus it was still raining. We were banking on the promise of clearing weather the next day to complete our Marseille trip with a visit to the Chateau d’If.
We woke up the next morning and rushed down to the docks to check the status of the boats. “First departure, 9am” the sign read. Relief. My train left at 1:15 so we had just enough time to go out to the island, visit the chateau and admire the scenery, come back and get to the station.
We got on the boat which was an interesting mix of Japanese tourists, old salty chain-smoking Frenchman and their mangy dogs, and young Americans. Marseille is so colorful. There is an abundance of characters to be found, especially around the old port and in the fish market. Earlier that morning, a husband and wife fish-selling team were arguing playfully over what to do with the oysters and he sprayed her with the hose he was cleaning his fish with. It was hilarious.
The boat ride took about a half hour. I took an insane number of pictures of the blue water (*) and none of them do it justice. We arrived at the strong, white stone structure described in Alexandre Dumas’ Count of Monte Cristo. We walked through the cells of famous prisoners, saw where one general was burned alive, explored the caves and towers, and took even more pictures. The water surrounding the port and at the Island was absolutely gorgeous: crystal clear, deep blues and greens, seemingly pollution-free. The rocks surrounding the island were begging to be climbed on, and as it is prohibited, that’s exactly what we did. After we were finished with the visit of the fortress, we climbed down to where the cliffs met the water and admired the scenery.
We left the island around 11:30 and rode back to the Vieux Port. We treated ourselves to some Haägen Dazs (rounding out the weekend of indulgences) and then picked up our “gi-normous” (as Amal would say) mounds of shopping bags at the hotel and headed to the St. Charles station, conveniently located at the top of the second largest hill in Marseille with 4 sets of perilous staircases to conquer before you reach the top. When we did accomplish that Herculean task, we were proud, but spent. My train was about to arrive so we said our goodbyes and I boarded the TGV back to Grenoble.
Despite the unfortunate weather and scheduling curves thrown, Marseille was good to us. I am glad to be back and excited for school tomorrow to debut my new euro-look.
*Sadly, none of these photos have survived except the print I bought in Marseille that is framed, hanging on my wall.
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