Versailles

Woke up not feeling too great so I took it slow getting ready. I ended up being 30 minutes late to meet up with Manuel, but better that than not showing up at all. I had no way to
contact him, so he would have just been standing there for a long time wondering what was
going on. We boarded the train to Versailles and arrived 20 minutes later. About 500m
walking down the road and around the corner brought the splendid palace into view. My cousin
Val had been here on a trip to Paris through school, but she didn't tell me how huge the place
is or how gilded! The glamor soon faded as we saw the very long line we had to wait in to
get tickets. We then lamented each separately thinking of getting tickets ahead of time and
not doing it. Fortunately we only had to wait about 15-20 minutes. Not bad considering there
were about 100 people in front of us. After getting the tickets we had to wait in the
entrance line to go through a bag screening (which I'm not sure anyone was even monitoring)
that took about 20 minutes again.

Once inside we decided to head out to the Queen's Hamlet to make sure we didn't miss it by
spending too much time in the Chateaux. Unknowingly this took us into the garden which we
could have easily entered without passing through security. By going the way we did we
procured a map and had a shot at knowing where we were going. We wandered through the vast gardens which almost looked imaginary or movie like at the far end (3.5km away). French gardens really means a wide pathway with white powdery gravel and some trees or shrubs along the sides. There is rarely grass and when there is, it's forbidden to walk on it. Apparently France is much more dry and desert like than I realized. We had taken a slightly shorter route toward the Queen's area only to discover that a large gate and a moat blocked our way. Making our way back around the wall and off to the far corner of the estate brought us to the first of three places the Queen had built solely for her. I didn't enjoy the first very much. It was very late 17th/early 18th century fashion which was a bit too fru fru and pastel colored for me. Many of the rooms had lemon colored furniture or pastel green walls with lots of pastel pink stone making up the building. It was nice to see some furniture though.

The second place was much more relaxed and almost like a summer cottage. The rooms were
smaller and cozy with a natural color palate. By far the grander part of this whole area is
the garden outside the houses. This was much more like a real garden. Grass abounded, paths
were small, flowers were in bloom, trees grew naturally and not into trimmed shapes. The
first garden by the Chateaux felt very formal and harsh. The Queen's garden was much more relaxed and homey. We found our way back to the far end and suddenly a whole tiny village came into view. What was this? Not on the map. We checked it out and it turned out to be the third part of the Queen's area--a farm, servants' houses, stable. The Queen really had her own place to rule just like she asked. While it was all quite lovely, when this was being built most of France was starving and destitute. Hard to reconcile.

On our way back to the main garden we stopped at one of the cafes for lunch and ice cream.
Realizing we needed to move along to see more things, we moved through the other side of the
main garden and back to the Chateaux. Originally we chose this day to visit because they turn
the fountains on for Sunday. After the first few up by the main entrance, the rest were dry
as a bone or had still water. Around 4pm an announcement indicated that some of the
fountains were about to be turned on. It was most refreshing to see and feel them in action. Moving water naturally makes it cooler and that was nice on such a sunny day. At last we made it to the Chateaux and picked up our complimentary audio guides. In typical French fashion there was only one number to listen to for the first floor, though it was filled with paintings. We had to get to the second floor with all the official kingly apartments before any new numbers showed up. [Famous Hall of Mirrors] When we reached the end of this tour we had another very French moment. The organization of the tour routes was never listed and both routes end in the same place without warning. We naturally kept following the hall around the corner when we realized that the numbers had changed and the information was going backwards as the numbers were counting down. No great loss. We trudged ahead and made it all the way to the princesses' apartments and the Dauphin's (I think he was the 2nd in command and next in line for the throne??) apartments. This is when we noticed we were running out of time to make it to the Neptune Fountain show at 5:20pm.

At a quick pace we saw the beginning from the walkway and arrived in just enough time to catch
the last few minutes. It really wasn't a show so much as music playing while the large
fountain was running. The water pressure never varied and there were no lights. It was nice
to see the water flowing though after so many fountains were not working. Having seen all we
could see, we stopped at a cafe on the way to the train station to avoid the large crowd
heading that direction. This worked out well as the train back was not quite as full. We
were going past the area where Manuel lives and it was getting close to dinner time for me.
Manuel thought it would be a good idea to sample some sushi at a great place near his
apartment. The food was actually really good. A nice change from bread and sandwiches. I
sampled some salmon, tuna, and some kind of white fish sushi along with 4 grilled kebabs (2
chicken, 1 steak and 1 ground up meats shaped into balls). It was all delicious which made it
worth the 45 minute metro ride back to the hostel.

An American In Paris

This morning I realized that I was missing a plastic bag of things. It finally dawned on me that I had left it on the upper rack in the train yesterday. My beloved blue scarf is gone along with a tin of cookies, some maps from the last few trips to Aix-en-Provence and Avignon, and another scarf I had just bought the day before. I am quite angry about this. [Still angry on the 21st as I write this.]

Today I met up with my friend Manuel who lives here in Paris. We met in Archaia Corinthos, Greece which seems like ages ago. I'm glad I have this blog or I wouldn't remember much of what I have seen and done. I wasn't sure how much time Manuel had to spend with me and thought we might just plan out an itinerary over coffee. He kindly served as my tour guide for the day as we walked around Central Paris. Our walk started on the E end crossing the River Seine and following it until we were at Notre Dame Cathedral. This globally recognized church was filled with people walking through the outer circuit of the interior (the area roped off for tourists to pass through). It was quite noisy despite the Silence signs as everyone talked in their own language to their people about what they were seeing. Amidst camera flashes and the clank of coins being dropped into the medallion machines (yes, you can purchase your own Notre Dame coin from vending machines throughout the church), the atmosphere--if there ever is one--was nonexistent. The Gothic style did nothing for me. The stained glass was not pretty. The walls/ceiling were composed of stone block which made the entire place look like the metro of Paris--i.e. tacky and dingy. Compared to Sacre Cour in Montmarte, Notre Dame is a hollow building for the commercialism of religious goods. I was not positively swayed or moved.

Further down the river we walked into the Louvre and grabbed some information on times and prices. There are three buildings of fun waiting for me to discover! We took a stroll through the Jardin des Tuileries next to the Louvre which is really more of a sandy, deserty like park with trees in it. Not overly pretty and very bright from the white dirt/rocks on the pathways. We walked past the Obelisque and crossed the river again and passed the Assemblee Nationale building (their legislative/political building). We wandered through the St. Germain area looking for a another church which we eventually found. It's very similar in architecture to Notre Dame with high arches and stained glass windows, but very quiet as no tourists really come here. We walked back W to the Hotel des Invalides which is now a military building. I wasn't too interested in seeing the military history museum through the revolution up to Napoleon so we took a bus to the Jardin du Luxumbourg where we strolled around though a park that at least had grass in it. Most of our walking had been relatively quiet for the international metropolis of Paris. Most Parisians seemed to be on vacation (similar to spring break) or in the parks as we noted in Jardin du Luxumbourg. The place was packed! we stopped for some coffee and then wandered through the Quartier Latin where there are some lovely traditional French shops and markets. A guy was playing a crankable music box cart with paper cut out music while singing. Cheese, fruit, fish and vegetable stores tempted us with their delicious looking foods. Manuel picked out a tub of strawberries that are presently in season and we feasted on them. My Mom would have been jealous for how fresh and sweet they were.
[Paris skyline at night from Sacre Cour--apparently I didn't understand the slow exposure time. Still a cool photo though.]
We hopped on the metro and went to meet up with one of Manuel's good friends as they were growing up and his wife. We had drinks and appetizers at Le Rhumerie. I had a tasty fruit juice drink of pineapple, orange, banana and coconut juices. We snacked on some fried fish balls, something similar to bruschetta and what I think was a blood sausage with spices. All quite yummy. From here we parted ways with Manuel's friends and found a traditional Bretangne restaurant (region of France) where we had egg, ham and tomato crepes with apple cider wine. I was incredibly stuffed by this point. No dessert for me or I would have exploded! We headed up to Montmarte by metro to see if we could find a jazz club, but everything seemed pretty quiet up there. I was wiped out from all the walking and eating, so we headed home for the night. We planned to meet up tomorrow to head to Versailles.

Amelie, Montmarte

Much like my trip to Avignon, the train strike was still in effect which meant I only had to find a train going my direction and see if I had to pay once I got on. I met a girl while checking out of the hostel who was trying to get back to London, but her flight was canceled due to the ash from the volcano in Iceland. She was trying to take trains from Marseille to Paris to London, but didn't understand about the buying a ticket piece. We ended up walking to the train station together and sitting across from each other on the train. She didn't talk much and we both ended up napping on our way to Paris. Once I'm on the train I get in the mode to find my place and figure out transit.

Finding the metro at the Gare de Lyon station was quite confusing. The map of the station shows where it is, but the orientation of the map is not easy to understand. I finally found the connection for line 1, bought a ticket and dragged my bag up and down stairs to get to the platform. What no one tells you about the Paris metro is that the connections to different lines require quite a bit of walking. Sometimes this involves stairs. Fortunately I hadn't done much today, so I had the energy to move my things around. The change to line 5 was pretty easy and finding my stop was simple. Finding the turn for the street of the hostel was somewhat more difficult. It was either not marked or listed under a different name: both very common problems in Europe. When I spotted the next metro stop I knew I had gone too far. Fortunately there are maps of the metro at almost every stop so I was able to navigate my way back relatively easily and checked in. I noticed on the welcome map that there was a tour of Montmarte at 6pm. It sounded like an easy way to see some of the city and check off something on my list of things to see.

The tour was excellent. We started outside the Moulin Rouge (red windmill) and heard the stories of how this poor part of town bred artists as well as seedy characters in the red light district. We walked all over Montmarte [Martyr Hill--where Christians were taken to be executed in Catholic France during the revolutions] (which is quite lovely by evening stroll) and our guide Ann Marie from Ireland was chipper and made the stories quite interesting. I learned about Van Gogh's distraught and challenging life when we passed the place where he used to live. We saw the Au Lapin Agile where Picasso challenged the owner to feed him in return for artwork which later turned the owner into a millionaire. The buildings and apartments are quaint and places you can only dream of living unless you have say E500,000 you just want to toss at a small European apartment. Sacre Cour Cathedral was by far one of the best stops we made. The views of Paris are excellent (including the Eiffel Tower) and the church is gorgeous. Made out of travertine stone, the building is self-cleaning (like the free public toilets on the street :) ) when the rain naturally whitens the stone. We wound our way down the hill through Place du Terte where local artists vie for a lifelong seat in the square doing portraits. We also stopped at a few of the places where the movie Amelie was filmed including the cafe and the market. The director spent 18 months going each day to the cafe to ask the owner if he could close the cafe for 4 months in the high tourist season to film. He's glad he consented now! Business has never been better.

After such a busy day I opted to eat at the hostel where I had a large plate of lasagna bolognese style filled with beef, green/red peppers, cheese and onion. Tomorrow I meet up with my friend Manuel to discover more of Paris, so a good night's sleep is in order.

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.

The Best of The Best

If Aix-en-Provence was charming and relaxing, Avignon was a close tie for history and depth of sights. What Avignon is most famed for is being the double see (or seat) of the papacy in the 1300-1400s. Conflict raged in the Roman Empire and the pope at the time (Clement something) decided to re-situate the papacy in Avignon where it was not only safer and calm, but also a very central location in the heart of Catholic France, Spain and Italy. Benedict XII began building an enormous palace which was later added to (doubled in size) by Clement # (some other number) creating the vast Palais des Papes.

Getting to Avignon is easiest by train. Busses are possible, but a bit more challenging. Since the train station is right outside the hostel, I checked it out first. Turns out no tickets are on sale during the strike. The protocol is to go to the train, get on, find the manager and buy a ticket on board. The train the woman at the desk suggested was one that headed to Paris (good news for future travel to know trains are still regularly going to Paris). I hopped on and there was no one around from whom I could purchase a ticket. Unlike Italy, they don't come through the train to check and punch your tickets. This was quite nice as it was about E20 one way to Avignon.

I began by following some of the walking trails around town to see the area and locate a place for lunch. My morning exercise used up enough energy to make me hungry, so I grabbed a pair of croissants. I branched off one of the roads to find a place my guidebook suggested and when I arrived at #4 Rue de Amphoroux all I found was what looked like someone's house. Sometimes this book is 50/50 on its suggestions. I thought I knew which road I was on, but the map I had named only the main roads. Turns out I was on a different street, but soon fixed my mistake. I saw some more of the city since the museum I wanted to see wasn't open until 12pm. I knew it would be a short trip through so I walked some more up in the N part of town. [Right outside the cafe] Hunger got the best of me so I opted to find my second lunch choice Numero 75, a cafe in the house where abysinth was discovered. On my way to one of the main streets near where I had been searching for the other lunch spot, I somehow missed the turn I needed. When I started to see the walled parts of the city again, I knew I had gone too far. Fortunately when I turned I was on the only road that would lead me through this university part of town. Finally I arrived at the cafe. It was definitely worth it! It's been hard to find veggies that aren't too expensive in restaurants or a place to clean/cook them at a hostel. My French is so vast that I thought I ordered some kind of fillet and asparagus with it--something off the menu of the day. It turns out I got grilled asparagus with a pea/onion souffle. I was actually pretty excited for all the veggies and it tasted so delicious. There was even a mustard green salad with sesame seeds and a sesame oil vinaigrette. The bread was really fresh and something of a 1/2 white 1/2 wheat combination.

The Musee Angladon was a small place in a former house filled with great furniture (from the 18-19th centuries??) and impressionist works by Cezanne, Monet, Degas and the only Van Gogh piece in Provence. It was nice to see some furnished rooms for a change. Most of the museums are rather drab and boring apart from the artwork. From here I wandered up the main streets to see the central part of town where I ran into an H&M. For those unfamiliar, I discovered this store in the Twin Cities with its European fashions. It's where I got my blue scarf with the flowery pastel design. They were having a sale and I picked out a button up plaid shirt to expand my travel wear a bit and a yellow scarf with pink and orange flowers on it for a whopping E15. Not bad.

When I realized it was getting late into the afternoon to see all that I had left on my list, I hopped on a bus to see the Tour Philippe-le-Bel and wander the small town of Villeneuve-les-Avignon just across the Rhone River. My map mentioned an abbey that had beautiful gardens, so I started there. Turns out it was gorgeous! There were only 4 other people inside and the peaceful walk was quite lovely. Views of Avignon were excellent. I walked the purple trail through the old part of town and came across a monastery that I was debating on whether to traverse. I'm glad I did because I was able to wander a Carthusian monastery in peace and discovered the various rooms along the way. The guide map is pretty straightforward, so when I found a few staircases without ropes I decided to venture up. There were rooms set up as the monks would have used them with their small bunk bed, writing table and prayer spot. Downstairs was an herb garden, kitchen, fireplace and wood chopping station. Definitely glad I stopped here instead of the other church in town.

It was close to 5pm and with the last entrance to the Palias des Papes at 6pm, I needed to hurry back or miss one of the great sights of the city. I arrived at 5:30pm and was able to fully enjoy the audio guided tour. Built out of huge, white blocks of stone, most of the rooms inside were painted extravagantly though it's no longer on the walls. From what I heard, the place was quite richly furnished and so were the popes. Their vestments were expensive and their treasuries were equally filled with gold, jewels and the like. Secret rooms below the floor served as vaults for their valuables. Both halves of the palace were 4 stories high including the ground floor. Some of the towers for cooking were even taller. The guide listed off the food at one of the pope's coronations and it went on for a good minute about the abundance of food needed to properly celebrate this event with the town. I don't remember exact figures, but I think 20,000 chickens is not out of the ballpark. This along with lambs, bread, eggs, vegetables, potatoes and more!

After a long day I needed to head home and train was the only quick option. With the strike, I wasn't sure if the usual schedule would apply, so it was a bit risky. A train was supposed to come through at 8pm so I took the bus back to the station and checked to see what was available. Apparently there was a train from Paris stopping here at 7:30pm. Same rules: get on the train, find the manager and buy a ticket. I thought I would at least ask about a ticket this time and see if they were going to sell them. When I asked the manager about getting a ticket, he said something in French that seemed to imply he would take care of it after the train started moving or that it wasn't important and to just grab a seat. I sat down upstairs and figured if he really wanted to charge me he could easily find me. He passed by a couple times and never said anything, so another free ride on the train.

By the time I got back a walk to a restaurant would have worn me out. I headed to the market and picked up some chicken, onion, bread, cheese, wine and yogurt. With my olive oil and garlic, the chicken was quite tasty. Some more olive oil and salt for the bread along with the herbed cheese was also good. Now the only question was what to do for tomorrow's itinerary?

Aix-iled

Though the name of the town is spelled Aix-en-Provence, it's pronounced Ex. Just a 15 minute bus ride puts you in a quieter, less industrial and quaint town. Life seems slower here, though Marseille doesn't seem to be hurtling forward at the speed of light. From the height of Cezanne's studio on the N end of town you can see the rolling green hills spotted with small houses and sunlight. Puffy white clouds float through the sapphire blue sky. It's enough to make anyone wax eloquent about the artsy side of life. It's even easier to see why impressionism took root here.

Upon first look the town winds though small side streets and squares. I booked tickets at the first family home and Cezanne's studio before beginning with the Cezanne walk for a chance to see part of the city. Bronze plaques in the sidewalk and street mark the direction for your walk. I passed the school where Cezanne failed his basic tests in elementary school and had to retake them. I saw houses where his children, parents and friends lived. I passed buildings where old cafes used to be and still are that Cezanne and his friends frequented. When I started getting hungry I happened to be in a more commercial part of town and I saw a bagel shop. Yes, I wanted to eat French food, but the bagel consumed my tastebuds and once I knew how inexpensive they were I had to have one. In a short time I devoured a deliciously warm wheat bagel with cheddar and chutney (which Megan informs me is quite French). I almost went back for another when I decided I should sample some other foods in the town. Further down the Cezanne trail I discovered an organic foods store where I picked up some kind of pale colored food that looked like chopped up nuts in a yellow sauce with golden raisins and peas. It had a mustard sauce that after a few bites cleared out the sinuses. Plus it all came in a biodegrable container made of paper (lid and all) with a wooden spork. Around the corner I wandered into a local fruit and veggie market where I picked up an organically grown orange. The woman decided that for one orange it wasn't necessary to pay, so it was free. A bit further down I found some almonds and raisins (my version of travel trail mix). Such a delicious lunch! I enjoyed my treats sitting on a fountain watching the market and small kids playing in the water of the fountain.

Now filled I continued with the trail a bit more until I reached the large round about again. A little over a kilometer walk brought me to my first of two tours: the Jas de Bouffan house. Jas is the provencal word for shepherd hut which is what first stood on the property. The Bouffan family bought the land and kept the hut (which later degraded) building their rich house right next to it. The 4 rows of tiles under the eaves of the roof explain the very wealthy status of the family. Most provencal homes had 3 at the time. Eventually the family fell into financial troubles and Cezanne's father (first a shopkeeper turned banker with his fortunes) leant them money. Unable to make payments after some time, the house entered the Cezanne family. One of the upper windows was extended above the roofline to allow more natural light in where Cezanne painted. His first works were painted for his father in the side theater room on the first floor to prove he was good enough at painting. The works have since been removed and placed in museums. Around the property you can still see the landscape where Cezanne did 9 of his paintings. Modernized, it's a bit challenging to imagine just what it looked like, but the house, farm building, wall, pool, row of trees and garden shed are all still the same. All that's missing are the wide rolling green hills now filled with houses and businesses [the house used to be out in the country].

From here I walked back to town and then North of the town 800km. Why is it that the map never bothers to mention it's uphill?? I arrived at Cezanne's studio just before the tour started which happened to be in French. I caught a few words here and there. A large portion of his tools, props and personal effects (painting easel, smocks, letters, sketches, etc.) are still in the studio. I saw the famous green jug and rum bottle which appeared in many of his paintings. The most striking feature of the second floor room is the N wall covered in windows. It looked to be about 5m wide and 4m high or 15'x 12'.

I contemplated staying in Aix-en-Provence for dinner, but most places were pricey and I needed something a bit more filling than another bagel. I caught the bus back to town and finished off my chicken, veggies and rice. Gearing up for another day trip tomorrow.

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.