Marseille: The Baltimore of Europe

But I obviously mean that in the best way possible.

I went to Marseille last weekend by myself on a whim. Mostly, I think it's awesome to be able to take a train to another country (and be there in less than a day), but I was also curious about Marseille. The only part of France that I'd seen was Versailles and Paris, which are... you know. Nice. (I also went to Nice.)

Marseille is different. I've heard people describe Baltimore fondly as "gritty", and I think Marseille can be described in the same way.

Here is everything I knew about Marseille before I went there:

1. It is the site of a major fort and has a history of housing army recruits. That is where the name of the French national anthem ("la Marseillaise") comes from.

2. It is famous for bouillabaisse, a tomatoey-seafood stew that is one of my favorite foods ever.

I suppose I should warn you now: because I was by myself and feeling really artsy and introspective, I took a lot of photos. The majority of this post is just going to be photos. On the plus side, this means that you don't have to read whatever inane ramblings I will come up with to compare the south of France to the filming location for The Wire.

I know what a clichéd thing this is to say, but Marseille is a place of major contradictions. (YES, I know. Bangladesh. Japan. Basically everywhere I've been, I say this. Doesn't make it any less true for Marseille.)

As I've already explained, Marseille is about as Frenchy as it gets. You know, French flags flying everywhere, and a ton of war memorials. A ton.

  

This particular memorial was on a hill nestled in a fortress standing over the entire city. I really liked it because the writing on the memorial is very poetic and appropriately dramatic: 

"A NOS MORTS

Qui sur terre, sur mer, dans l'air,

Ont accru la gloire de la France aux jours heureux

Sauvé son honneur aux jours sombres

Sans jamais desesperer de son destin."

If it's not obvious already, I can't speak French, but the rough translation is:

"To our dead

Who, on land, on sea, in the air,

Added to the glory of France on happy days

Saved her honor on somber days

Without ever giving up hope for her destiny."

OK, as I was saying, Marseille is pretty French. You know, croissants, baguettes, wine, cigarettes, the Foreign Legion. But it's also home to a lot of immigrants, especially from North Africa. People who still remember some geography from 9th grade will remember that the south of France is basically right across from Africa.

As a result, there are probably more immigrants living in Marseille than ethnically French people. I wondered about the conflict this must cause, especially with France's legal grappling with the hijab. I'm not sure what happened to that law, but if it's still in effect, nobody gives a shit in Marseilles. Every third person was wearing hijab. Of course, they were all fabulous (in France you have to be fabulous).

So I wandered around Marseille and found several little beaches that were basically deserted. That worked out great for me because I was in kind of a "leave me alone" mood. I think it was probably too cold for most people to be at the beach, but it was definitely warm enough for me. The weather was gorgeous.

I also saw this awesome hotel/café that said "Pasteur Institute" on it. It has Louis Pasteur's name on it, AND it is pink. I WILL stay here if I ever go to Marseille again. It's also right next to the beach.

Walking around, I also stumbled on a book market. Like, just a whole bunch of books, set up in a random square. There were a lot of very old, very beautiful books. I was too poor to even look at most of them, but that didn't stop me from taking pictures.

I also found some pretty cool-looking buildings in the "nicer" area of Marseille. This was the more touristy area by what is called the "Old Port". It's also where I had my bouillabaisse. It wasn't what I was expecting (the sauce was yellow and not tomato-red) but it was still delicious. I couldn't finish it.

"Why, Maria," you ask. "Is that a ramekin full of cheese with a clove of garlic?" Why yes, yes it is.

Obviously incomplete without the obligatory glass of wine.

Just walking around the old port:

So you walk around the port, and you decide you've got a feel for Marseille. You know, it's a kind of crusty old port town, people like their fish stew (not any of this fancy BS that the rest of France seems to love), and a Roma woman with gold teeth might lead you into a corner and demand you give her 50 euros to cure your stomach ailments. (Yes, that happened.)

But then you walk to the other side of the city, away from the port, and you see this:

"Laverie/Repassage" is (I think) either a laundromat or dry-cleaning. Repassage is ironing.

 

I took this picture in a place called "Quartier des Createurs" (The Creators' Quarter). It fit right in with everything else in the area, but can you imagine the apoplectic fits people would have if this happened in Geneva?

 

 

This one just made me chortle: "Atom." I also saw a lot of cherry blossoms which reminded me of Japan.

Again, the Quartier des Createurs. Everything was covered in spray-paint. It kind of reminded me of Willy Street, a nice little nostalgic throw-back, until some dude came up to me, told me I was pretty and asked to use my camera to take a picture of me. Riiiight. I told him I prefer to be alone and I don't like pictures of me. He didn't understand. I smiled and walked away.

 

 

WARNING DANGER WILL ROBINSON DANGER. There are swears in the picture below. Don't look at it if you are, you know, annoyingly picky about not swearing.

OK, so there is the Quartier des Createurs, which basically amounts to the ghetto (I was getting looks like "what is that rich tourist doing here?"). Go a little further north and what do you find? That's right, a cathedral.

OK, then go still further north and you happen upon the train station, which is basically a testament to French colonialism.

 

I really liked the whole atmosphere of the station. You had all these palm trees giving shade to some of the statues. I don't know, it was very Casablanca.

I thought, at the end, Marseille is a very multicultural city, just like Geneva. But in Geneva, I feel like people sort of take their culture and put it in a little box, very nice and neat, to be easily digested by others. In Marseille this is not the case. In order to be heard above the din of everyone else, people are wearing, eating, talking, walking their culture as loud and obviously as possible. It's cool to see but obviously a big change from Switzerland.

And below are just some of the more random photos that I took that don't quite fit in with the rest of the post.

Here is an adorable dog waiting for its owner outside a café. He cocked his head at me, as if to say, "Do you know when he is coming back? I'm bored."

I also saw this tree that had swallowed a road sign. You can kind of see the pole in the tree trunk.

It looks like an angry eye to me, which I like.

Also, here is a random carousel in the middle of the street.

OK, Baltimore has the Chesapeake and the docks. Marseille has the Mediterranean. Walking along the south of town, I saw the most gorgeous blue water and sharp rocks. The road that curves along the south coast of Marseille is called John F. Kennedy Drive. What was really absurd to me was that so many businesses along this road were also named after the road. "Kennedy Café." "John Kennedy Coiffure."

 

In this photo, right in the middle, you can see that there is a cathedral on a hill. I tried and tried to find my way to this place and failed. I guess this gives me a reason to come back to Marseille.

All in all? Marseille is a city that can't be summed up easily, or maybe even at all. If you're looking for gorgeous beaches, sure, they are there. Classic French architecture? Yep. If you want to eat shwarma and have a steam bath in a hammam, they have that too. I find it very difficult to say anything more about Marseille. It was good, it was beautiful, chaotic (for Europe) and also pretty dirty. I liked it.