Marseille

South of France.
Marseille.
Port
Point of entry of the black plague.
Immigration.
Rats.
Water.

I'm back from Marseille. After only three nights in the city, I was read to go back to Paris. This should be not be taken as a discredit to Marseille, but instead a sign of my love for Paris. In Marseille I was shocked to find myself the ethnic minority in an abundance of African and Middle Eastern peoples. The French we heard spoken was quite different, I would say degraded from its pure origins. The notion of leaving the protective sphere of Paris, international in a Western sense, had not occurred to me. With the city's reputation as one of the oldest port cities of the Occident, I expected an immigrant population, but I could not have prepared for experiencing it. The shock I experienced reflects on my upbringing in the States and the distinct social and ethnic boundaries there.

I don't want to give the wrong impression, so let me say that my visit to Marseille was incredible. What made it incredible was not its citizens, its architecture, or its culture. What made it incredible was the sea and the strong sea breeze. My years in Annapolis have honed my penchant for salt air, and my nose perked up immediately when I stepped into the open space of the Vieux Port. It was refreshing.

Friday morning Abhinay and I reunited with a few friends from our study abroad program. I had my coiffure done and then we climbed to the Eglise de Notre-Dame de la Garde, a beautiful church overlooking everything. The clear sky granted us the greatest view. That afternoon, we warily experimented with the public transit and visited a nature preserve of some sort with access to 'Les Calanques'. The term is new to me, so I'll let the photos speak for themselves. 

Can you imagine how overjoyed I was to find myself standing before this inlet in weather just warm enough for a swim? Looking back, it was like a dream. Here's where I made my entry.

Proof.

To seal the lid on one of the best personal experiences of my life, I ended the day with a steak and a few glasses of wine. Then I slept a blissful sleep.

The next day, after a good run around the city and up to Notre-Dame de la Garde a second time, we visited a very old prison, the Chateau d'If. Then we embarked on a self-guided walking tour of the old quarter. Some refer to this as wandering.

Ended the night with moules frites, or mussels with french fries. Abhinay somehow convinced me to eat out two nights in a row. Then again, eight euro for dinner in Marseille doesn't seem so steep when tea in Paris is four.

Anyways, enough complaining. I believe I will be staying in Paris this weekend. My host family has invited me to their house in Le Touquet (dans le Norrrd, as my host father puts it, very menacing) and I really would like to go, especially with all the time I've spent away from them, but a weekend here would be nice. Still undecided. As for travels further abroad, my plans have been temporarily put on hold due to visa restrictions. With my incomplete French visa, I may not leave the country, that is, until my revised American birth certificate arrives. I find these details boring. Chances are you do, too.