Provence and Occitanie: Day 2, Part 1
- lendroitheureux
- Apr 19
- 9 min read
Updated: Apr 20
Marseille
Bus Rides, Ex-Votos, A Really Old Abbey and an Arc
I’ve driven a public city bus in the past and I still drive a large passenger vehicle for a living. So when I am in a foreign city, especially one with a landscape, geography, and crowds unlike the places where I have driven professionally, I like to check out how the train, tram, and bus operators operate. I am not a transportation wonk (it’s just my job, not my passion), but I find it interesting to check out how other pros go.
The 60 bus from Vieux Port in Marseille goes right up the hill to the imposing, important, and impressive Notre Dame de la Garde. Sure, one can take the mini tourist train or call a taxi or ride-share, but why? For 2 euros you can catch a bus, relax, look out the window as you pass through the busy streets and wind your way up the hills in the neighborhoods south of Vieux Port and to La Bonne Mere.
The driver on this particular bus #60 was as pro as they get. It was mid-morning and there was hustle and bustle with plenty of pedestrians, bicycles, motor bikes, and cars about. The driver maneuvered his rig through the crowds and around each tight turn like a ballet dancer performing on stage at the Marseille Opera House. Nary a curb hit, no honking, no slow downs, every stop made on time. It was a performance for the ages.
The bus was crowded. Yet clean and quiet. People were minding their own business; no yelling to each other about the trials and tribulations of modern life, listening to music too loudly on their phones without earbuds, passed out across two seats, or doing fentanyl. It was quite a contrast to the public transport I'm used to.
The view from Notre Dame de la Garde is spectacular and has been written about, photographed, blogged on, and video-recorded ad-infinitum. Obviously, we really took in this view and basked in its glory, but what really remains in my mind is the panoramic view of the city and the surrounding hills from the rear of the building in the parking lot where the bus deposited us. Being able to see the Orange Velodrome (where Olympique Marseille plays) and all the vast, sprawling city that is Massilia was simply dandy!
Inside the church itself, in the main sanctuary and chapels, one is in for a treat. The colorful red and white alternating marble gives the large nave an almost over-stimulating candy cane color. The amount of ex-votos hanging throughout is sheer splendor. Ex-votos are offerings to the patron of a church or chapel that are most often in the form of a painting but can really be anything. Usually they are giving thanks for divine intervention in some kind of tragedy, illness, or catastrophe, or asking for aid from the patron. The art is almost precisely what one would think of when referring to “folk art.” The paintings are small and with the kind of illustration that would be seen in a newspaper, broadside, or pamphlet of eras past. They are very literal in the depiction of events and always show the patron hovering overhead, watching down from the heavens. In Notre Dame de la Garde besides the paintings there are strands of rope suspended from the ceiling holding various models of ships and aviation crafts, which really piqued my fancy. I simply love that kind of hyper-local specificity in art and architecture. Behind the altar, on the domed apse is a circular painting of a one-masted Phocaean boat with curved figurehead. The sail is in the Marseille colors of white and light blue and there is a large “M” in the sun/star in the sky and a lighthouse beacon on an overlooking hillside. It’s all quite cohesive, quaint, folksy, profound, and packed with symbolism. I could have spent many, many hours there practicing symbology while gazing at all the images, objects, and colors, but there were many more things to do and see that day. One day I shall return to La Bonne Mere!
After our time at Notre Dame de la Garde, we walked. And walked. And walked. ALL the way down to the sea we walked. The next destination was Vallon des Auffes, a cute little inlet full of fishing and personal craft moored very close together and tightly surrounded by a few eating and drinking establishments and houses. We decided to take the twisty, windy, narrow path down the hill from the church and then meander the streets to the little cove. The neighborhood between Notre Dame and Vallon des Auffes is just a neighborhood; seemingly affluent, definitely not touristy, but still interesting to walk through while experiencing a slice of Marseille off the tourist-beaten path.
We made it to a commercial street and made some purchases. First we went into one of the omni-present, green-cross-out-front pharmacies that one sees all over France. A crown on one of my teeth popped off literally one hour before our flight two days earlier (and I swallowed it!!!) and while it was not bothering me, we figured I should get some antiseptic mouthwash and picks for the affected area. After navigating the shopping and transaction in flawless French (HA!) we crossed the street to a patisserie for two salmon sandwiches. One of my favorite things in France is not only the number of patisseries but also that they have stacks of pre-made sandwiches in their display cases. They almost always have a cheese and tomato option, ham (jambon), chicken (poulet), and salmon (saumon). Easy to eat, fresh bread, and great for on-the-go walking tourists. Remember, eating while walking around in France can be seen as rude, so mind your Ps and Qs and be polite and discreet. Or find a place to sit and relax. Which we soon did. We also popped into a market for a couple apples and bottle of sparkling water. The plastic bottle of San Pellegrino would be quickly emptied by my thirsty gullet and would then spend the remainder of our two-week vacation as my refillable water bottle. One of the “tells” that the French have to spot American tourists is the large water bottles/mugs/jugs that they always seem to be lugging around. I opt for a different option. Very sneaky.
Vallon des Auffes is really neat. As I said, it’s a petit cove with a bunch of small, personal pleasure and fishing craft tied up. It's soaked in “sea-farer” essence with colorful dwellings stacked up on the hillsides encircling the cove like a school of brilliantly hued fish. The Corniche Kennedy, the closest thing Marseille has to a “highway” in this part of town, that spans the entire south coast along the sea, is above, crossing the Vallon des Auffes via a beautiful brick arched bridge. Climbing some stairs, we popped out near the Monument aux Morts de l’armee d’Orient et des Terres Lointaines, a large granite arch dedicated to those killed in World War I. Virtually every city and village in France has a monument to the local people lost in WWI, some small and humble, other large, grand, and portal-like, overlooking the sea as if to transport the dead to another, better world; like this one. We chose to sit and have our salmon sandwiches and apple here. It was really nice. We could see the Frioul Islands and sailboats, the wind not overwhelming. It was perfect.
After nos mangeons, we walk. We headed toward the Vieux Port along Corniche Kennedy and saw some people fishing from high atop the bluff, watched sailboats sailing, swimmers going at it in the Mediterranean, people playing beach volleyball (It was March 7. MASSILIA!) where a cad old fellow leaning on a railing, over dressed in a winter coat, drinking canned beer was obviously ogling the bikini ladies on the sand. We kept going to Palais du Pharo and walked around the garden there. Palais du Pharo is directly across the mouth of the port from Fort St. Jean and Mucem (see Provence and Occitanie: Day 1), and the view from Jardin Pharo is just as perfect as it is from the other side.
After leaving Pharo, we walked down the sidewalk on the same side of the street to Square Manouchian, a small garden that also serves as a monument for Missak Manouchian. Manouchian was an Armenian whose parents were killed in the Armenian genocide in the mid-1910s. Manouchain was a factory worker in Paris. Manouchian was a Communist. Manouchian fought against the Nazis and his crew killed many fascists. Manouchian was murdered by the Nazis. His story is important. The peaceful garden in Marseille, overlooking the water dedicated to him (and his comrades), is testament to his importance to a free people (not just in France). Manouchian is interred and honored in The Pantheon in Paris, as he should be.
From there we walked to Fort St. Nicolas, a star-shaped beast on the south side of the port’s mouth. The fort was under renovation so only parts of the outside were accessible, but that was ok. The view was great; overlooking the Vieux Port, across the water to Fort Saint Jean, and even up the hill toward Notre Dame de la Garde, one cannot go wrong stopping into Fort Saint Nicolas, especially with no entrance fee. Apart from the 2-euro bus ticket, food and drink, and the oral care supplies purchased at la pharmacie, we spent zero money on our tour this day. On urban forays, if one is willing (and able) to do a lot of walking and a modicum of planning, one can fill an entire itinerary with solely free activities. Not always. Some must-see places charge small entrance fees, and that’s ok. But often you can do it on the super cheap or free. All of the churches we have visited in our travels have been free of charge, and the sheer amount of art, architecture, and level of ambiance inside old, medieval, and ancient structures provides a curious traveler with hours of deeply intense endeavors.
Speaking of old churches, our next stop was Abbaye Saint-Victor. Tucked low into the hillside just east of Fort St. Nicolas and south of the Vieux Port, the Abbaye St. Victor dates back to the Roman era. Yes, it pre-dates what the West has referred to as the “medieval” period or “the middle ages.” This place is old A.F. and it feels like it. It’s dark and cold, just how I like my churches. I wasn’t even certain we would be able to enter, as there were no people around, no one coming and going, and nothing to announce what this fantastic old structure tucked into the hillside neighborhood was (Note the picture from Fort St. Nicolas toward Notre Dame de la Garde. You can see Abbaye Saint-Victor, unassuming, low on the hillside, amongst the rest of the more modern buildings). I pulled the door. It opened. We walked in. It was dark. And very cool. Old stone structures have that built-in, natural A.C. about them. We were the only visitors to the Abbaye and the person sitting at a desk near the door popped up to scamper off and turn on a few lights. Often, in these churches there will be a person just sitting, some scowling, others just blank-faced (but none smiling, grinning, or welcoming) behind a desk or at some sort of kiosk. I suppose they are ostensibly looking after things, as there are certainly valuable items and very old relics that should not be touched, messed with, or (god forbid) stolen. Sometimes they are near a small gift shop or some kind of donation bin, bucket, or barrel. I don’t remember seeing a donation bin inside the Abbaye. In fact, there really wasn’t much adornment inside this church compared to others we have encountered in Europe, but the obligatory saint reliquaries were on display (which I always appreciate), and a small but wonderful statue of St. Jean d’Arc (St. Joan is everywhere in France) was perched in a corner. A couple really cool sarcophagi spiced things, and there were some paintings and other statues scattered about. Yet, the reason that Abbaye Saint-Victor stands out for me is its age, the way the neighborhood has seamlessly grown around it and simply incorporated it into its environment. As I said, it’s cold inside. You can feel, smell, and see the old. In the crypt area the bits of extant art and ancient masonry convey just how old this place is and what it has meant to this old city. As we slowly walked around and took in the meaning of the Abbaye, a few other visitors arrived but it didn’t get too crowded. I would recommend Abbaye Saint-Victor as a definite must-see in Marseille. And, once again, no charge to enter and get a sense of ancient history. (To be continued.)
Stay tuned for, and tune in to, Part 2 of Day 2 in Marseille, as we continue our long walk through the city and discover an oil plaza, see an arc, and dine on bouillabaisse.