Provence

On Tuesday, I wore half the clothes in my backpack to go to the train station in Strasbourg. It is chilly and overcast. I doze on the train, watching hazy forests, farmland, and villages roll by.

I awaken to sunshine and a white rock Mediterranean landscape pulling into Avignon. Vineyards and colorful wildflowers stretch for miles. Eventually the Mediterranean Sea emerges in the distance. Bonjour, Marseille!

I’m starting to think in French again, but am still not talking to many people. My French-thinking is at about the vocabulary level of a first grader. Luckily, I trust people to recommend good things to eat, even if I don’t know what they are until they come.

I don’t have many stories since I spend my days walking, reading, and occasionally trying to order food, understanding about 1/3 of what people try to say to me. But without further ado, here are some pictures of the beautiful places I visited in and around Marseille.

First stop: Aix-en-Provence. This is a small town about 30 minutes outside of Marseille by train, and it fancies itself to be as cultured as Paris. I appreciate that it is less crowded than Paris and also more sunny. I also note for the first time that other May tourists are all seniors and students- I’ve got a 20 year age gap in both directions. So, there is nobody to compare myself to and I can do what I want!

I find the market in Aix and want to buy everything. Look at these cute artichokes! I ultimately leave with a goat-brebis cheese, a string of cherry tomatoes, and some tiny strawberries, which I eat as I walk all over town.

Twenty minutes later, I have walked all over town. I spend the next few hours taking pictures, drinking espresso, visiting a great art museum, and lingering over a lunch of superb roast chicken.

The next day, I went to Nice. I don’t know what to say about it other than it is absolutely gorgeous. I got a satisfying sunburn from cruising up and down the long boardwalk and had some incredible lavender and rose-flavored gelatos. Did you know there is a term here for someone who is a master of ice creams? This may be me translating poorly, but I would rather believe this is true.

My last full day in Marseille, I reserved an electric bike tour of the city and the seaside limestone cliffs nearby called the Calanques. Because I was the only person to book this tour, my wonderful guide Caroline can focus all her attention on me. It turns out Caroline has visited the US – and surprisingly, she went to Boulder! I’ve had a lot of trouble telling people here where I’m from, and it’s so nice to meet someone who has actually heard of Denver or Colorado.

In addition to being a genuine and fun human, Caroline is an excellent guide. She grew up in Marseille and knows both the history and the spots that will appeal to tourists. We ride early to the Jardin de Pharo for this great view of the old port:

From here, she shows me many quiet spots in Marseille en route to the Calanques as we wind through as many small lanes as possible. The electric bikes are magical. On one steep ascent, a bystander said in French after we passed:

“Oh the bikes are electric! I thought you were just very strong!”

When we reached the top, I said to Caroline in French, “But yes, we ARE very strong!”

“Ah, you understand!”

I DO understand! BOOM. Or… BOUM.*

I could probably write the rest of this in French**, but because I have a limited French- speaking following, I won’t. We rode to the literal end of the road, where I hiked to a spot between two Calanques where I could see the Mediterranean Sea on both sides.

The view you see below is where we ate lunch. For me, just a simple sandwich of goat cheese, prosciutto, and some greens to make me feel better about the whole situation.

From here, you can see me dressed like a total weirdo with the Sea behind me, and what may be my favorite cathedral I’ve ever seen, Notre Dame de la Garde. It is so bright and vibrantly colored inside!

You can see below the view from where I ate dinner. It’s a small area close to downtown, formerly a small fishermen’s cove, now a posh hangout. The bar next door sells bottles of wine and beer that you can take and drink with friends as you sit among the fishing boats.

And from here, I leave Marseille for Spain. Or so I think. Until the next episode!

*There is a 99% chance this makes no sense in French.

**False.