Marseilles

The stay in Marseilles was only for a night. Frankly, one wouldn’t need anymore time than that. This city of over a million is dirtier than LA and has a funny smell. Graffiti lines every wall and street for as far as the eye can see. There are no real landmarks to speak of or sights to see. It is a major port town; that’s about all it’s got going for it.

We stopped in for the night, and had problems finding our hostile. A simple left instead of a right at the onset made a 20 minute escapade out of 5 minute stroll from the train station. The accommodation was decent. Our only goal for that night was to find a pub. Having found a Brazilian bar, a drowning of doldrums began. Needless to say the stumble back was marked by interpreting the hieroglyphic graffiti and urinating on the already urinated street.

The next day, at the store, I bought a baguette and a roll of cheese for the trip to Nice. On the train, we broke into the baguette and unfurled the cheese, which let out a hefty odor. We eventually had to shelve the cheese till Marseilles for fear that we would attract unwanted attention from fellow train riders or the conductor.

Although I slept most of the way, I did get a few glimpses of France’s Mediterranean coastline. There is so much beauty in this part of France. As we entered the French Riviera, I knew we were in for an experience. We passed through Cannes, which, coincidentally, was holding its international film festival. Returning and finding the festival would become a goal once we reached Nice. But until then, I slept.