I haven't been on Eurostar before, so I was quite excited on Friday, embarking at Ashford International. I was due to travel all the way down to Marseille, changing only at Lille. It all went well, we were underneath the sea sooner than I expected, and I fought off the slight feeling of claustrophobia thinking of all that water above me.
It was slightly complicated at Lille, as all the announcements were in French. I sort of expected that there would be English translations, but once off Eurostar, I was truly on foreign ground. I soon learnt that 'retard' meant delayed. There was a helpful man in the information booth who translated all the announcements for me, and assured me I was indeed at the right station. The ticket had confused me, as it said I needed to change stations.
Once on the train I settled in to enjoy the landscape flashing past the windows. After a while, I started to become alarmed at quite significant snow on pine trees, in the foothills of what I thought might be the Alps. For a short time, I was seriously worried I had managed to get on the wrong train and was heading north. What was weird was that within the space of about half an hour, gleaming sunshine returned.
There is a special quality to the light in the south of France, I can see why artists gravitate towards this part of the world. Everything looks sparklier.
Thirty minutes after arriving at the French Club, I was assisting with two classes. It was a bit of a whirlwind, as I hardly had time to unpack my bag. Sunday was a day off, so I took the opportunity to go back to Marseille on the bus and explore.
I fell in love with the place. The old port is wonderful to explore, with Fort St Jean being an example of modern architecture fused with ancient architecture. The place was designed so you could walk for miles, up staircases, along terraces, high up with contrasting views at every turn, or low down along the water's edge, where you could listen to the waves lapping up against the stone. There were newly planted gardens and benches scattered around, and exhibits in some of the rooms off the walkways. One amazing exhibition was of puppets from many years ago, all displayed imaginatively to their best advantage.
After taking in some coffee outside a cafe further along the port, I decided I really needed to climb the huge hill to see Notre Dame de la Garde. An imposing cathedral overlooking the city. I spurned the mini tourist train (8 Euros), the open topped bus (18 Euros) and had just missed the regular bus (50c), so walked. It was quite exhausting, but worth it for the views. The cathedral was also beautifully decorated with lots of gold leaf. There were strings hanging from the ceiling with model boats dangling down, and many sea scape paintings around the walls. After such a long hike, the best bit was actually the tea room, where I managed enough French to order hot chocolate and an eclair. The waitresses were very friendly, and later on, burst into song.
Marseille station was fun too, they had a piano rigged up for anyone to play, so people were chatting and taking turns. I'm not one to miss the opportunity for a bash of the old ivories (or plastics in this case), and it made waiting for the bus back quite jolly.
All in all a great day out.
It was slightly complicated at Lille, as all the announcements were in French. I sort of expected that there would be English translations, but once off Eurostar, I was truly on foreign ground. I soon learnt that 'retard' meant delayed. There was a helpful man in the information booth who translated all the announcements for me, and assured me I was indeed at the right station. The ticket had confused me, as it said I needed to change stations.
Once on the train I settled in to enjoy the landscape flashing past the windows. After a while, I started to become alarmed at quite significant snow on pine trees, in the foothills of what I thought might be the Alps. For a short time, I was seriously worried I had managed to get on the wrong train and was heading north. What was weird was that within the space of about half an hour, gleaming sunshine returned.
There is a special quality to the light in the south of France, I can see why artists gravitate towards this part of the world. Everything looks sparklier.
Thirty minutes after arriving at the French Club, I was assisting with two classes. It was a bit of a whirlwind, as I hardly had time to unpack my bag. Sunday was a day off, so I took the opportunity to go back to Marseille on the bus and explore.
I fell in love with the place. The old port is wonderful to explore, with Fort St Jean being an example of modern architecture fused with ancient architecture. The place was designed so you could walk for miles, up staircases, along terraces, high up with contrasting views at every turn, or low down along the water's edge, where you could listen to the waves lapping up against the stone. There were newly planted gardens and benches scattered around, and exhibits in some of the rooms off the walkways. One amazing exhibition was of puppets from many years ago, all displayed imaginatively to their best advantage.
After taking in some coffee outside a cafe further along the port, I decided I really needed to climb the huge hill to see Notre Dame de la Garde. An imposing cathedral overlooking the city. I spurned the mini tourist train (8 Euros), the open topped bus (18 Euros) and had just missed the regular bus (50c), so walked. It was quite exhausting, but worth it for the views. The cathedral was also beautifully decorated with lots of gold leaf. There were strings hanging from the ceiling with model boats dangling down, and many sea scape paintings around the walls. After such a long hike, the best bit was actually the tea room, where I managed enough French to order hot chocolate and an eclair. The waitresses were very friendly, and later on, burst into song.
Marseille station was fun too, they had a piano rigged up for anyone to play, so people were chatting and taking turns. I'm not one to miss the opportunity for a bash of the old ivories (or plastics in this case), and it made waiting for the bus back quite jolly.
All in all a great day out.
View from Fort St Jean
Cathedral ceiling with dangling boats
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