I have been coming to the South of France, and in particular, Marseille, for about 15 years.

In truth, Marseille would not have been my first choice of French towns to have a second home in. That said, it has grown on me. France’s second city is not really the city of the opening scene of the 1971 Academy Award Best Picture, The French Connection. Yes, Notre Dame de la Garde continues to command the cityscape, but the Vallon Des Auffes, the tiny port of the opening pull-back shot, is now full of restos and bars popular with adults and young adults alike. The restaurant Fon Fon is still there, but take a pass.

Marseille has, I believe, more of a reputation of an entry or exit point, place to pass through on the way to the Provence of Peter Mayle. But as the late Anthony Bourdain said in an episode of Parts Unknown on Marseille, “I could retire here”.

Within a 20 minute walk or waddle (for it is far too slow to be called a run) from our home, we have at least five boulangeries that I regularly visit, two wood burning pizza trucks, the sea with both public and private beaches, three trailheads within a national park, and roads of Stage 5 of the 2013 Tour de France and Stage 20 (Time Trial) of the 2017 TDF.

There is also the Mazargues Commonwealth War Cemetery, the last resting spot to a number of Canadians, including Staff Sargent Soloman Biblowitz, who died on September 12, 1944 at the age of 27. Sargent Biblowitz was a member of the Canadian Special Services Battalion and was fighting with the US Army. He received a US Silver Star and there is a lake named after him in the Northwest Territories. I visit his grave at least once a year and I once placed a piece of Canada, a rock from the Canadian Shield, on his gravestone. Lest we forget.

In addition to cycling, both road and trail, Marseille offers hiking, climbing, open water swimming, sailing, wind surfing and kite boarding thanks to the local wind, the Mistral. There is boating, diving, snorkeling and sea kayaking. Marseille is the home of an annual triathlon, a weekend of Grand Fondos, Les Bosses de Provence (sponsored by my new cycling Club, La Pomme (more on that later)), a marathon and other road races.

 

And two hours away by car at 1600 metres is Vars, with skiing in the winter and of course the namesake Col de Vars, another perennial TDF stage.

It is truly a playground for the out of doors>. And for those, like my wife, it has its own vibe too. It has its rough side for sure. It is and always has been an important port and a gateway to North Africa. That comes with its own charm. There are wonderful restos with spectacular views of city and sea. There are neat shopping areas, local markets with foods and clothes and flowers and it is great access to other close communities such as Bandol and Cassis. The closest vineyard is about 15 km away from our house.

And then there is the weather. This is the South of France. Yes, the mistral can drive you crazy, but it is November and I am sitting outside in shorts and a t-shirt.

There is a rhythm to life here, other than when it comes to driving, which is just fast. There is a famous French song written and performed by a much loved Marseilles singer, Michel Sardou, called Aujourd’hui Peut-Etre that is about the need to cut a tree that may fall on the house of the owner any minute. The words sum up Marseille:

Maybe today, or else tomorrow.

This darned sun is making me lazy.

Bah, I’ll cut it in a couple of days.

And if I can’t cut it myself,

I’ll ask my good friend Tonin.

He might as well cut it himself.

It’s not that we are lazypokes in these parts,

Only it’s so hot in our South

Maybe I’ll write some more today, but maybe not. There will always be another day in the South of France.