It still feels like Christmas day as the dawn painted the sky with hues of gold striking through cumulus clouds, on my journey to Marseille. I'd say it's one of the best consolations there is in taking a 5 AM flight which entails spending the night at the airport. I was practically down to the last leg of my 2-week Christmas sojourn which meant I had to face reality once again. Nevertheless, it felt good to finally step onto the French soil. Much as I never wanted to admit, I missed France quite a bit, my familiar breakfast routine, especially.
Fresh out of the airport, I found myself wandering through the sleepy streets of Le Panier styled in ancient cobblestones, a sight I could never get tired of. Marseille's fusion of timeless charm and modern flair immediately revealed itself in the architecture that greeted me at every turn. I decided to spend the first hour in freestyle and let curiosity guide me in exploring around, given the beauty there is everywhere I look. As pinoys would say, bahala muna si Batman. I went inside a few open boutiques and artisan shops until I came across a café that which called for some French breakfast. I ended up having a piece of flaky croissant and another boulangerie item, its name I forgot. I stayed there for an extended while and took things lightly a la French way of not giving a fuck. I figured it was the best thing to do after chronically lacking some decent sleep in the past few weeks.
Curiosity not serving me well anymore in effectively navigating around that maze of a place, I seek Google Maps’ eternal guidance to save time and energy from then on. For my next destination, I went to visit LaVieille Charité, but fate had other plans. I was greeted by disappointing news. It was closed leaving me with no choice but to settle for a gaze at the massive stone structure and adore the intricate carvings that adorned its very exterior. For a while, I sat on a nearby bench, soaked under the morning sun, and marveled at the architectural masterpiece just a few meters away from me. Checking Google for what could I have been missing, I settled on painting artwork images and historical artifacts in my head and imagined the countless people who had sought refuge within these walls throughout centuries. After a few minutes, there were more disappointed faces, also victimized by the wrong opening hour details in Google maps. I found relief in knowing I was not alone with this grief.
Losing that tinge of disappointment from my failed visit to La Vieille Charité, I was feeling hopeful when I made my way to the nearby Cathédrale La Major. But as I approached the towering cathedral, my heart sank once more, faced with the same situation. Undeterred, still I couldn't help but admire the church's grandeur. Its twin Byzantine-style domes stood proudly against the sky, their intricate patterns and glistening tiles were a testament to the architectural mastery that went into its construction. The imposing façade beckoned with its sculptures and imposing entrance, hinting at the spiritual splendor hidden within its walls. I looked for a good spot in the vicinity, a nice bench overlooking the Mediterranean Sea, and watched the gentle breeze that carried the distant sounds of seagulls, while the waves crashed against the shore.
I left Le Panier once and for all, to seek a change of scenery and move on from the closure heartbreak My feet brought me toward the mystical Vieux-Port. The bustling harbor was the center of maritime activity for centuries serving as the gateway to the Mediterranean, fostering trade and cultural exchange throughout the ages. It was the birthplace of Marseille itself; its energy reflected the city's enduring spirit, the promenade still high in Christmas mode. The Christmas bazaar was still up, carols from buskers still dominating the air, and vast number of people making the most out of the holiday season. While I heard several messy comments about the place from a lot of friends who once had been here, I thought otherwise. Marseille had been nothing but a pleasant surprise, so far.
I decided to continue by walking further to Abbaye Saint Victor. This ancient priory on a hill overlooking the city offered spiritual serenity and architectural splendor. This time, there was a little bit of a challenge. The abbey's surroundings were bustling with activities adding an unexpected layer of liveliness to the historical ambiance: children joyfully kicking footballs, laughter echoing off the ancient walls, group of ladies practicing yoga. Up there was a tranquility amidst the city's noise and energy Nature also played its part, with seagulls (the timeless inhabitants of Marseille's waterfront) soaring through the air, their cries mingling with the sounds of the city. They gracefully dipped and dived, seemingly unperturbed by the human spectacle unfolding below. Their freedom and joy mirrored the spirit of the Mediterranean that embraced Marseille.
Penultimately, my path led me to the crown jewel of Marseille's architectural marvel that is Notre Dame Basilique. Its grandeur took my breath away quite literally, having to climb those endless stairs just to reach it. In my defense, I nearly had zero sleep prior to this. Its soaring spires reached towards the heavens and its fa̤ade spoke of the skill and dedication of the craftsmen who had brought this masterpiece to life. Inside, sunlight filtered through stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors upon the pews and marble floors. Every inch of the church exuded magnificence Рthe arches, vaulted ceilings, and delicate rose windows Рproof of the architectural genius that had shaped this sacred space.
Lastly, I visited Place Castellane and Fontaine
Estrangin providing a dose of French atmosphere and picturesque surroundings. With
my heart full of cherished memories and a deep appreciation for the wonders of
Marseille, I decided to conclude my day with an early dinner. Afterwards,
I made my way to the bus station and patiently waited for my ride back to Lyon to mark the end of yet another well-spent holiday season.
