Marseille: Jane's French connection

---

After a leisurely breakfast, we said our farewells to Tim and Eva and left reluctantly, but with the prospect of meeting friends in Marseiiles.

After we passed the oil terminal and red cement works of Fos, the landscape became scrub-like. On either side of the road, there seemed to be nothing but stunted trees and tough grass. But Marseille itself is full of colour and vitality. We approached by the coast road, descending past the dispersing Sunday sunbathers, wrapping towels at their waists, packing their cars. In boatyards, yachts were stacked in steel racks. A cruise ship, a vast floating hotel block, barged its way out to sea. We drove alongside the concrete ferry terminal, through the old port, bustling with cars and pedestrians. The GPS led us through the one-way system till we saw Olivier in the street and he guided us to a parking space.

This was the first time in five years or so that Jane and Marion had seen each other, and there was lots of happy catching up to do. Olivier served a welcome pastis and we ate a relaxed supper on the balcony, among green plants and with the cries of seagulls above us.

---