Monday, May 5, 2008

Marseille

We arrived into Marseille 55 minutes early.

It was sunny, 20 degrees Celsius, with a gentle breeze.

We arrived in the evening, and thus saw only those sights that were on the way to the hostel:



Somehow, I suspected Marseille was my sort of town.

Ever run across people who told you that even if you spoke French to the France French, they would answer you in English anyway? This is a lie. They will speak French to you and you will understand little of it, but things will improve with time.

In fact, by our second day in Marseille, Jenn was comfortable enough with the language barrier to obtain, through a mixture of polite French and obscene hand gestures, the necessary European plug/jack adapter for our electrical toys. Luckily, as the salesperson was a woman, there was a minimum of misunderstanding.

She also successfully replaced her red shoes with souliers verts, her red shoes having suffered a rather sad death in York when some clumsy oaf trod on them at the same time as Jenn herself was trying to walk in them. I have resolved to better watch where I'm walking (and, in case Jenn reads this later, to better watch where I place my adverbs).

We enjoyed lunch on the lawn of a palace built for Napoleon that had a bit of a view, then toured the coast before heading inland in search of Cathedrale Notre Dame de la Garde.




Marseille, as it turns out, is quite hilly. We thought we had finished the worst of it when we came to the staircase for the cathedral:



We figured missing one church wouldn't be so bad, and turned left (and downhill!) instead. As it transpired, this was an excellent decision for two reasons. First, we discovered that not only are the young women of Marseille enterprising, so too are the vandals:



And second, it meant that we arrived at our hostel a little earlier than expected... just in time to catch a former roommate of ours preparing to head out for an evening on the town. We spent the evening chatting with him and some other hostellers.

As suspected, Marseille was indeed my kind of town.

3 comments:

Unknown said...

Margaret and I found thatpeople always replied in French and were determined to do so whether you understood or not! We discovered the best way to get along is to do the best you can and you will get better - people came to appreciate the effort. They get too may "If you want my money, boy, you'll speak my language" type tourists!

Unknown said...

Too bad about the shoes. Don't worry too much about split infinitives - some people made a lot of money 'BOLDLY GOING WHERE NO MAN HAS GONE BEFORE'. However, Jenn, one should not forget that there are some things "up with which one should not put!'

Unknown said...

Hi, Jenn and Colin:
We finally see a photo on your webblog that shows the 2 of you, together - what a nice setting. Hope you enjoy some good Bouillabaisse in Marseilles, and see the arena in Arles. Bon soir.
From Margaret