Thoughts on Marseille

After much buildup from my grandfather, I expected Marseille to be even better than Paris, maybe even exceeding Barcelona because of its location upon the Mediterranean Sea and franco-phone people, which sounds like paradise to me. My grandfather was a part of the Brazilian Navy in the 1950's and 1960's, and his fleet would frequently harbor Marseille, often to gather supplies. In fact, most of the articles needed for my grandparents wedding were purchased there, interestingly enough. Anyway, I was truly excited to venture to this new town and explore the beauty of Southern France. I recall at one time even wishing to live there one day; something about any beach mesmerizes me. Little had I known my previous ideas of Marseille were a bit distorted.

Much has changed in 60 years. What I envisioned was a beautiful port in one section, perhaps a small canal leading to the heart of the harbor, with one long continuum of thick sand that formed an entire stretch of beach. I should have searched Google Earth before making assumptions. What I saw was a giant port and tiny areas they called beaches, some manmade perhaps 100m in length. The locals are rather loudmouthed and a bit cheesy (of course, I won't generalize the population based on several noticed behaviors). Some of the men genuinely creeped me out as they stared ruthlessly and made obnoxious catcalls to female passersby. I suppose I expected the city to have a somewhat Parisian vibe yet on the beach. Imprecisely.

The Saturday of adventures was concluded with a bus ride hotel-bound, a rather unpleasant one. I recognized that everyone on the bus was a melting pot of races, ethnicities, and social class. When is it not on public transportation? I didn't think much of it until everyone seemed to have a problem with another, shouting, cussing, and making a scene just to announce the discomfort of the packed-like-sardines bus. I am almost positive there was a fight in the back of the bus too. Something about this scene replays in my head and makes me ponder if the lack of respect is due to the heavy clash of cultures or perhaps if the Marseillais are genuinely like this. Nonetheless, I felt as if I was in an entirely different country. Even the lower class population of Rio de Janeiro would never behave like this in an equally overcrowded bus.

Despite the slightly negative behavior I encountered upon the beaches and bus, I still consider Marseille a breath-taking city with many attractions to see. I would return upon these circumstances to prove these ideas wrong or maybe even fortify them. I do wish, however, to be able to see the marvelous city my grandfather had the opportunity to appreciate; one can dream. Les calanques me manquent!