Marseille

Overnight bus: 2

Aleda: 0

I’m batting 0-2 here. Marseille was the town that I was most looking forward to visiting, because I saw it in an inspiring old french film in grade 8 and have associated it with beautiful southern france ever since. I did zero research on this town solely because I thought thriving mediterranean sea-port Marseille from the movie (shot in the early 1900s…) was an accurate enough reference for modern-day Marseille. Sometimes I wonder what in the world was I thinking and come up blank, proving that I straight-up was not thinking at all. This was one of those moments. Boy has Marseille gone downhill. To be fair, two wars, a revolution, and a depression have  all passed since the movie was filmed, so I feel a change was warranted and should not have come at that big a surprise to me. I had forgotten the name, but upon investigation, the movie was “Fanny”, the original version. I found the trailer for the movie, and I’m dying laughing at how stupid I am for believing I would somehow walk into 2025 Marseille as if it were still 1960s Marseille. If you have the time, watch this trailer, just the first 2 minutes, and you may understand more why impressionable 16 year old Aleda held onto this magical version of Marseille. They really sell it to you!

https://youtu.be/Y2fwv7aX_t4?si=adqCMar0l6skRXqH

Ah, seriously though, what I wouldn’t give to spend a day in a time like that. Blunt reality check. My original plan was nighttime bus to Marseille, sleep in the waiting room again to kill the few dark hours before sunrise, explore the town bright and early before catching another quick bus in the afternoon to hop me across to a hiking trailhead. Turns out that some train stations close for a few hours in the middle of the night, one of which being Marseille. My bus was also fast, so I arrived far earlier than expected and had more dark hours to kill, now with nowhere to go or stay. I walked for honestly under 10 minutes and got whistled at, called princess, and asked to “come here mama”, all by 3 different men! Instantly changed course and checked into the first neon 24h hotel I saw. I am a wimp when it comes to violence. I have zero confidence in my ability to defend myself physically. I rely on words as my attack mechanism and I don’t think I would’ve been able to fend for myself with “you piece of ass”, which is my go-to for my siblings. Although I feel a little disappointed that I couldn’t pull off the no hotels week, I think this was a smart move.

The bus I took to get there tells a funny story too. These two spanish dudes were alternating turns driving and smoking, and they were just howling laughing. It honestly seemed they’d never driven a bus before in their lives and took this gig for a good midlife crisis laugh. They ran red lights, hit curbs, caught air time flying over speed bumps, luggage was just being sloshed and banged around in the underhand storage as they raced down the highway — they were just peeing themselves laughing. I honestly wonder if it was just tobacco in those cigarettes. Gotta hand it to em, we made record time.

I was really really tired, so my reality may be blurred and tainted, but my memory is producing images of insane street art and tons of foreign food (but not the good kind, the sketchy “street food” truck pop-up kind). I took some photos in the daytime of what I was walking through the night before, although they feel underwhelming and less scary. I also took this video of me regretting a lot of life choices walking through Marseille streets before succumbing to the hotel.

There was also this sick CBD vending machine. It literally was aglow in the street like a lighthouse to a ship in a storm. Now, I know that CBD is neither psychoactive, nor “weed” the drug, but this weed-imposter vending machine was tempting fate with its resemblance. Weed is illegal in France and in this state, I would’ve given a lot to break that law. I did consider buying a whole bunch of CBD and maybe, just maybe, if I gave in to the exhaustion enough, that a placebo effect would transport me into “the high-verse” (as my friends and I call it). It really is more of a state of being and less of a physical, chemical reaction, so I thought I could get there with enough tingling anti-arthritis CBD oils, but I resisted for the survival instinct of needing to stay as alert as possible in this terrifying hunting cage overtook my temptations.

I did some research AFTER leaving Marseille to understand what had happened to this once safe and beautiful french hub. Marseille is actually the oldest town in France, founded by the greeks in 600 B.C! It’s a huge port along the  mediterranean sea, and was known as “the port of the empire” through the first half of the 20th century. However, it got taken over by Nazi Germany for a few years during the second world war. They actually bombed and destroyed the “old port”, which is what I’m sure was still standing and thriving in the film I had seen. After its destruction, and after being taken back after the war, the city became a port for millions of immigrants to France and is now a huge French-African quartier of the country. The article I’m reading ends with, “in the 21st century, Marseille regularly attracts media attention due to drug trafficking and shootings”. Life lesson: don’t rely on representations of foreign cities (1) from glamorized media, (2) from over a century ago, and (3) as your ONLY form of research before traveling there. I can attest, Marseille was no romantic, lively sea port. (in my brief experience, at least).

With this change in plans, it meant I could get to my hike earlier, which proved to be the biggest blessing in disguise. I found this hike in the Calanques National Park, which I wish I had more time to explore. It seems to be a pretty popular swimming spot in the summer, so I chose a trail outside of those busy central areas and was so incredibly pleased. The hike was tough. Very steep, rock scramble-y, and my overpacked turtle shell of a backpack was no help.

It was so worth it. Just look. This was also my first time in the mediterranean sea! It was warm! Genuinely! I was shocked. It was crystal turquoise and overwhelmingly salty, and I felt so amazing. I ate some chocolate while I dried in the sun and I felt another wave of pure content and peace.

The hike back was hard because on the way to this big inlet, you hike all the way up and all the way back down. Meaning that, on the way back, you also hike all the way back up and down again. The tall cliffs surrounding the inlet reminded me SO much of drip sandcastles I used to make with my uncle at the cottage! It was surreal, it felt as though I was walking in a dream where my little childhood drip castles grew 8000x and I got to walk through them. I’ve logged this dream idea in my notes app and I do intend on bringing it back to life in my dream imagination tonight.

I loved the hike, it was invigorating. I have come to the conclusion that I want to travel countries through hiking. I might not catch all the big sites, but I find far more pleasure, reward, and beauty in this style of travel. Although the calanques are situated in a town right next to Marseille, I’m counting them as a very redeeming factor to my Marseille leg of the trip.

I don’t mean to sound negative, I hope my immense gratitude is still coming across here, but I am enjoying these travels way more than Paris. I wouldn’t have changed my time in the city because the teaching experience I got there was transformational, but I would extend my town-hopping and backpacking time if I could. Luckily, I have so many years to live and travel like this, so maybe a brief introductory taste is just what I needed to light that fire and kick that planning into gear.

Your friend,

Aledabeda