Up uncharacteristically early to accompany Miss T to the airport in Marseille. We board the 8:10 shuttle bus and arrive at the airport 25 minutes later. Checked in, there’s a group sibling hug,
and off she goes. The boys and I head to the blue line in the next terminal and come out of the subway at the pretty waterfront in the old port, by any definition a major tourist area.
The boys have acquiesced to accompanying me on one of those hop-on, hop-off tour buses to circle the city before we discover par pied, and I am happy. We board the top and plug in to hear our narration in English:
It’s rather windy and brisk at times, but we get a good overview of the history of Marseille, and the boys each get a good little catnap! As we go by the area with the two excellent restaurants recommended by the fun women at the train station,
I pout a little because both are closed on Mondays (as are so many restaurants and shops here and in Aix). Pass a beautiful byzantine church and I notice some very creative graffiti. Not Banksy, but not bad:
Our bus tour ends and we trek back to the site of the Virgin megastore to see if they have the new Umphrey’s McGee CD in for you-know-who, but not. Then around the corner to lunch in a little brasserie that is pretty mediocre, and time to walk around the downtown area. We head back to the waterfront to gaze out at the sea for a bit, then down into the subway and catch a train back home.
Relax in the apartment for a while, then decide to head out for a nice dinner for Michael’s last night in Aix. Go to a hip, well-written up place, but no room at the inn. As I mentioned before, most restaurants are closed on Sundays and Mondays, so not a surprise. We walk over to Cours Mirabeau, where I recall two names from our recommended list. We check one out, can’t really find the other, so head back to the first. As we wind back, we are pleasantly surprised by the hip vibe and sophisticated clientele and are pleased when there is a table open for us. The food was great, starting with the amuse bouche (palate teaser sent over by the chef – a pureed cold soup of courreges with a rocket sorbet in the middle – YUM!) through Matthew’s cured Gabo ham on homemade foccacia, which came with melon balls and pearls of strawberries in a champagne bath, and Michael’s artfully arranged entrecôte with herbs and truffles mashed potatoes. Just what we wanted! A great end to the day and the kind of place we’d been wanting to experience.