Marseille, France | Testing the Waters on the Edge of Danger
When I read The Count of Monte Cristo as a young person, I could never forget Marseille. Unfortunately, Marseille now has a reputation as Europe’s top hotbed for theft. I’d never dared to visit during previous trips to France. This time, since I was staying not far from Marseille, I couldn’t resist testing the waters on the edge of danger—twice. The first trip was a hike in the fjords to see the “jellyfish sea” (those crystal-clear, turquoise waters that shimmer like translucent jelly) and Le Corbusier’s Unité d’Habitation. The trail wound through rugged limestone cliffs, with the Mediterranean glittering below; every step felt like a reward, even as locals had warned us to keep our bags close.😘 By the time we reached the iconic brutalist apartment building, its concrete facade standing stark against the coastal greenery, I understood why it’s a UNESCO site—there’s a raw, unapologetic beauty to its design, much like Marseille itself.😒 The second trip was to the harbor. We took the “up the mountain, down to the sea” little train, a rickety old railcar that chugs along the coast. Halfway through, the sky opened up, and rain poured down in sheets. The driver didn’t bat an eye—he kept going, and we were soaked to the bone, our shoes squelching with every step. But just as quickly as it started, the rain stopped, and the sun burst through the clouds. We spread our jackets on a park bench to dry, letting the warm Provençal sun seep into our skin, then headed to the Old Port, where police patrols added a faint sense of security. We settled into a waterfront café for a bowl of bouillabaisse—rich, fragrant, and steaming—to warm us up from the inside out. One of the lessons learned from traveling in Europe: always pack a windbreaker. 😍 Rain brings a chill, even in sun-drenched southern France. While waiting in line for the little train, we met a expat living in Germany. We got to talking about Marseille’s safety concerns, and she laughed, saying she’d hidden her watch, earrings, and anything that looked valuable. ❤️ We’d done the same—only carrying a canvas bag, trying to blend in, to avoid drawing attention. The Old Port has its rough edges: a pungent smell lingers in the air now and then, a mix of fish, diesel, and something unnameable. The crowds are a mishmash—tourists with cameras, locals in work boots, street vendors shouting in Provençal French. 😒 Some side alleys are run-down, with peeling paint and graffiti tagging every wall. But for all that, Marseille is still staggeringly beautiful. It’s a city of contrasts: the golden glow of Notre-Dame de la Garde against a gritty streetscape, the crystal waters of the Calanques lapping at rocky shores steps from bustling markets. Its charm is unpolished, even a little wild—and that’s exactly what makes it unforgettable. This trip was worth every moment of hesitation.😍 #MarseilleTravel #CalanquesNationalPark #VieuxPortMarseille
