Goodbye Marseille

Above - If only everyday could be like this... in Marseille it is!

Above - can you see the moon? It's les Calanques at Luminy.

Above - Cat and Rachel at Vieux Port.

Above - Reformés on la Canebière.

Above - my last time at Vieux Port on the Saturday evening.

The 15th July would be my last day in Marseille. It was something that was decided long ago when I booked my ticket home. I booked the ticket in January when June seemed so so far away; when leaving seemed so surreal. Even though the contract on my apartment ran until the end of June I would be leaving on the 15th because I had planned to go to Germany to teach English. When the Germany opportunity came along in December I thought it would be worth sacrificing 2 weeks in Marseille (the last 2 weeks of the contact on my apartment) for 3 weeks in Germany. But when the time came to leave I wasn’t so sure. My mammoth packing task began after I’d been out for a meal with Angéline on the Thursday lunchtime. We went to Patacrêpe as it had been my birthday the weekend before. The weather was beautiful, it was hot and sunny – a day of shorts, sun cream and sunglasses. In the afternoon Angéline came chez moi for a cup of tea and I began packing. It wasn’t a happy job. It signalled the beginning of the end. On Thursday evening I met up with Cat and Rachel for one last drink at Vieux Port. We went for a walk around the port snapping photos of everywhere all lit up. I said a final goodbye to Cat as she was going to Paris for the weekend and so I would be gone by the time she got back. I then headed home. On the Friday we went with Angéline to l’Estaque and then for a meal at Chez Noel. In the afternoon we went walking in les Calanques at Luminy. On Saturday I went chez Maëlle one last time and then we went to Café Simon for lunch. In the afternoon we were going to do la Corniche but the bus was full, very full. We didn’t fancy standing so we went home and I finished packing. In the evening the landlord came round to inspect the apartment, and inspect he did, believe me! And then it was a case of finishing packing and going to bed. It had, by this time, got to the point where my life in Marseille was packed neatly into suitcases. I knew I was having to leave and I just wanted to get on with it. Even though I was still there it had, in so many ways, already ended. It was no longer the same, everything had been dismantled and packed away. It really was time to go. I went to Vieux Port to give Rachel her trainers back. We sat with the view of the port and drank our final French coffee together. Walking back home from Vieux Port I became the tourist I’d spent so much of the year despising – taking photos. I walked, for the last time, la rue de la République and through le Passage de Lorette not knowing when I’d be back again. And yes, that is a ‘when’ and not an ‘if’.