Beach Bum II

Originally I made no plans for today. It seemed like a good day to sleep in and read up on Germany and Britain. While I was planning how many days to spend in each place, one of my roommates (Fernando from Scotland) I had met yesterday stopped by and asked if I wanted to join him on his trip to the beach. I'm not one to really go to the beach on my own; it's just not that appealing to me usually. When invited, however, it always sounds like the right thing to do. Better to enjoy the sunshine while I can than sit inside.

We walked down to the port and along the S side until we ran into Fort St. Nicolas. It seems like every fort I've come across in France is still being used in some capacity as a military establishment and therefore not open to the public. Fernando seemed curious, so we hiked up the steep incline to find a monument with a large plaque honoring those who died at sea, on land or in the air in service to their countrymen, for the honor of their country and in pursuit of a goal which they didn't get to enjoy. I got about 90% of that from the French--go me! The views of the city were really nice. To the left you could see Chateau D'If and toward the right, the rest of Marseille sprawling out along the coast.

Still not to the beach yet, we pressed onward. After crossing 5 lanes of traffic going in all sorts of directions coming out of the tunnel under the port (at least they put up signs reminding drivers that people walk here even though there really isn't much sidewalk there), we started wondering how far the beach was. I consulted my map and we found it should be fairly close. One beach finally appeared ahead of us with a sandy beach that must have been artificial as most of the coastline is rocky. There was plenty of space so we staked out a patch and kicked back. We waded into the sea at one point, but it was way too cold to do any more despite Fernando's eagerness to swim.

Somehow four hours passed whilst we were enjoying the sun and I had been reading up on future countries. I had eaten a late breakfast, but we had both skipped lunch making us quite famished by 5pm. We walked back to the port seeking a place to eat dinner where we came across a tapas place that looked good. Dinner wouldn't be served until 7pm. What to do with one hour? We settled on drinks and then shifting back over to the restaurant. What great food we had! For E21 we had a pitcher of sangria, bread, and 4 plates 1. Grilled chicken with grill seasoning 2. Mussels with tomatoes and basil, 3. Grilled shrimp with cumin and pepper, 4. Fried calamari. I was certainly stuffed after all of that. The walk back to the hostel helped settle the meal. It made for such a great, well balanced day.

Chateaus and Baskets

[Large fish market at the port]
I actually slept in a bit today--and there was much rejoicing (yea!). Despite the creaky wood beds (they look nice, but I have discerned that all bunk beds squeak and shake no matter the material) and the two French speaking guys who woke up in the middle of the night to an alarm, left the room, came back a while later (I fell back asleep), and proceeded to talk for quite some time until I said something about trying to sleep I managed to sleep quite well. I was off and walking by 9:30am to tour the town and take in the few highlights.

My day began with a ferry to Chateau D'If which you will recognize from Alexandre Dumas' book The Count of Monte Cristo. A whopping 3.5km from the port, the island is a small rocky plateau off the shore. Just NW there are 2-3 more islands (Frioul is one). The views of the town were excellent and put the area into perspective. The dual forts guarding the port are visible amongst the few tall, modern office buildings to the N and the Basilique Notre Dame de la Garde high on a hill to the S. The island is covered with random grasses, clovers and small ground coverings amidst the smooth, pale white rock. The fort has three round towers and a central courtyard. It was strategically built in the early 1500s to protect the town from sieges after Charles V overran the town. Dubbed the "unsightly neighbor," the townspeople lamented the fort as an image of imperial power. Marseille retained rights to their own protection when they were annexed to France in 1481. Four floors of old cells and empty rooms comprise the Chateau. Some were no more than 4 walls and some were more like apartments with fireplaces and areas to cook. My info pamphlet said that some families would have their sons sent here by letters of state which bypassed a trial and committed them to the island until further notice. A few rented the apartments out and had reasonable stays. Others who were less fortunate prisoners (some were traitors, many were protestants and friars--thanks to Catholic France back in the day) ended up in spartan cells with miserable ends. It was a fun tour and entertaining owing to my love of the novel which made the Chateau truly famous.

[Seagull nest]
From here I spotted a place for lunch, but had an hour before they started serving the menu option I wanted. I hiked up the hill to the Basilique. It's quite a ways up! The board at the church noted it at an altitude of 147m though I didn't catch how high the actual town is. Inside the ceiling is gilded with beautiful, shiny mosaics depicting biblical stories and has a lovely glow to it. It might have helped the feeling of warmth that there were candles burning and I was inside out of the wind and rain.

Back at the restaurant I endeavored to order using as much French as possible. It's a bit easier when you read it right off the menu. I chose the Le Trio which was a starter (Le Turrine de Legumes Provencal), a main dish (Boulliabasse et Roche) and dessert (La Suggestion du Chef) for E17. I thought I had chosen a red wine, but it turned out to be white though I think that was a better choice in the end. In a short time the waiter said the starter I chose wasn't available so I opted for the Soupe du Poisson (fish soup) which a guy at the last hostel said I should definitely try. It turned out to be quite yummy. The dark broth had bits of spice and fish remnants (more like the dark brown bits between the meat and the skin) floating amongst it. What I didn't know was that the Boulliabasse was basically fish soup with fish and potatoes in it. So my second course was almost identical to the first. Oh well. The dessert, however, was fabulous. The waiter didn't remember that I chose the chef's choice, so I ended up selecting the chocolate cake. Wow was that delicious! In layers were yellow cake and chocolate truffle like substance. On top a bitter chocolate sauce and slivered almonds. It was a large slice too--probably 6" long and 4" high. I was definitely moving slow after this meal.

Two things were left on my to do list for the day: check out the Marseille history museum and wander the Le Panier Quarter again hoping the shops would be open. Turns out the history museum is closed for the next month or until the end of the month. Le Panier was somewhat of a bust as well. Apparently Sunday and Monday are days off for much of the town. I did manage to come across a biscuit shop that smelled heavenly where I picked up 200g (about 7.1 oz.) of biscuits for after dinner snacks. I found 3 of the other shops on my map, but they were all closed. By the time I had wandered for about an hour I was in great need of a bathroom and rather tired. Time for a nap at the hostel. The evening was relaxed with working on the blog, eating up my Asian chicken rice mix and chatting with friends. Excited for day trips to start tomorrow!

The Colors of Marseille

Having worn out my time in Nice it was the day to head to Marseille. With the train strike going on, I wasn't sure how exactly I'd get to town. I knew there were busses, but couldn't find the company or where the bus would leave from. When I checked the listings online for trains it appeared that there were 2 leaving at 1:30 and 2:30pm. Check out was at 10am so I figured I could sit for a bit and read at the hostel and arrive at the train station around 12pm to procure a ticket. Louise had left earlier in the morning by train for Florence and Michelle decided to take a slow day and join me in my trip to the train station.

At the ticket counter the woman informed me that there was only one train at 1:30pm and it was an open ticket--no reserved seats. Since getting the ticket was so easy and there were no long lines, we walked next door to a cafe for a cappuccino and croissant. Around 1pm I boarded the train which was surprisingly empty. I was exceedingly glad I had a seat and plenty of room for my luggage for the 2.5 hour journey. The countryside was much the same as around Nice--rocky, yellowish tan dirt, and tall apartment buildings in French style with shudders and tiled roofs. I opted to spend my time working through my guide book for Marseille and Paris to do a bit of planning ahead.

At a stop a half hour from Marseille a woman came up to where me and the guy next to me were sitting and appeared to be indicating these where her seats. So much for no reservations. Being only 1/2 hour from getting off I didn't mind getting up to stretch and I needed to be poised to exit as the train was quite packed with many people filling the aisles now. Usually there's only about 5 minutes at each stop, so it pays to be ready. With the strike you don't want to miss your stop as there likely won't be another train heading in the opposite direction you can easily hop on to get back one stop. Fortunately I made it off the train easily. The directions to the hostel were pretty straight forward and worked nicely. I was even able to get the my two bookings for the same hostel at their two sites moved into the same building. Far more convenient.

With everything settled I headed out to see a few things and walk the town a bit to lessen the number of things to see tomorrow. Being Sunday most places were closed and I knew food would be a bit challenging to come by. The lady at the desk marked a market that would be open, but when I walked by that spot on the street (and even past it) I saw nothing even close to a market. The only things there were closed businesses and cafes among the few open. I happened across an Asian restaurant and grabbed a dish of pollet citronelle (chicken something with red/green peppers and onions in a yellow sauce) to go rice I had back at the hostel. The way down to the port was rather uneventful and noteworthy only of the large number of atypical-French looking immigrants and homeless people. A variety of Muslim, Jewish, people who looked to have come from Africa or the Middle East passed by on the street. Marseille truly is a port town with a wide variety of peoples, customs and traditions. I think I expected it to be a bit more romantic from my imaginings of it from The Count of Monte Cristo, but Marseille has a much more rough, harsh exterior to it. Imagine a gruff looking old fisherman who actually is friendly, but doesn't display this openly and you'll have the idea of Marseille. [This is a Sunday street market in Marseille just NE of the port.] The way of life in this town seems to produce a distance between what people show and how they feel. Perhaps this is just a difference between Greek/Italian expressiveness and a more reserved French nature. Thus far, all I can make of the French people is that they are distant. My speculations are that they are more vain and self-contained than the more southern Mediterranean countries. Most people in Nice seemed rather friendly, but here in Marseille they are short and to the point--exerting themselves only as much as need be. I think this is why many travelers find the French rather rude. They seem to find no need to accommodate foreigners and are quite content to uphold their own language. If you don't first earn their kindness by attempting to speak French, no matter how botched or broken, you are likely to have a tough time getting what you need.

From the port I took a brief walk through the area around Le Panier Quarter (better known as Marseille's Basket). The area used to be a major area for breads, but now is mostly residential with a variety of tiny shops. This neighborhood was much more plesant and cozy than the port area. Eventually I worked my way back to the hostel and prepared dinner. The chicken/veggie mix went well with my rice and made enough for a couple meals. This way I can eat French food for lunch out at restaurants and eat on the cheap in the hostel.