After just one full day in Paris, I took the train down to Marseille (I’d be back in Paris for the latter part of my France trip). I’ve been to Marseille a number of times, but there is, refreshingly, always something new to discover.
Like the nice man who struck up a conversation with me as I ate sweet, smushed wild strawberries while sitting on a ledge across from a café a ways down from the train station.
Like this giraffe.
Like this church with Joan of Arc rising in front of it.
Like these whimsical umbrellas.
Like this shopping street (yes, I deliberately timed my vacation to coincide with the biannual soldes).
Like this view that reminded me of San Francisco.
And a rediscovery of Le Vieux Port.
And an exploration of its environs.
And an intriguing alley.
And a huge inflatable duck to ponder while perching myself on a cement block and waiting for my friend to pick me up. Trying to discreetly peer at every male driver with sunglasses to see if he was my ride. Hint: One cannot both be discreet and peer at the same time.
Another discovery: My friend’s son, the kid I once bent down to to faire la bise, is now taller than me. His daughter, thankfully, had not lost the excitement she had for things like sitting next to me at dinner.