It’s been nearly two years since our last trip to Marseille, a sun-drenched jewel on France’s southern coast that left an indelible mark on our memories. That summer of 2023, we set out to explore the city’s vibrant beaches and winding old town, arriving and departing through the bustling hub of Marseille St. Charles train station.
As I sit down to write this, the sights, sounds, and scents of that journey come flooding back—postcards from a city that effortlessly blends grit, charm, and Mediterranean allure.
Our adventure began at Marseille St. Charles, a grand station perched atop a hill, its wide steps offering a sweeping view of the city sprawling toward the sea. The station itself was a whirlwind of activity—travelers hauling suitcases, the hum of announcements in French, and the faint aroma of espresso from the nearby cafés. Stepping off the train, we felt the warm summer air wrap around us, a promise of the days ahead. From there, we descended into the heart of Marseille, eager to uncover its treasures.
The beaches were our first stop. Marseille’s coastline is a patchwork of rocky coves and sandy stretches, each with its own personality. We spent lazy afternoons at Plage des Catalans, a local favorite just a short walk from the city center. The water was a brilliant turquoise, cool against the heat of the Provençal sun, and we watched as families picnicked and kids splashed in the shallows. The sea was the star of the show, its waves whispering stories of the Mediterranean’s ancient past.
But Marseille is more than its beaches—it’s a city with soul, and nowhere did we feel that more than in the Old Town, Le Panier. Wandering its narrow, colorful streets felt like stepping into a living postcard. Laundry hung from balconies, the scent of garlic and herbs drifted from open windows, and weathered walls bore the patina of centuries. We ducked into tiny bistros for bouillabaisse, the city’s famed fish stew, served with crusty bread and a dollop of rouille. Each bite was a taste of Marseille’s maritime heart. The neighborhood’s history whispered through its squares—once a rough-and-tumble quarter for immigrants, now a maze of art galleries, boutiques, and murals splashed across peeling plaster.
One afternoon, we climbed up to Notre-Dame de la Garde, the basilica that crowns Marseille’s highest hill. The trek was steep, but the reward was a panorama that stretched from the port’s cranes to the Frioul Islands shimmering in the distance. The golden statue of the Virgin Mary atop the church glinted in the sunlight, a beacon for sailors and a symbol of the city’s resilience. Down below, the Vieux Port buzzed with life—fishermen unloading their catch, vendors hawking olives and lavender soap, and the clink of pastis glasses at waterside cafés.
As our trip drew to a close, we found ourselves back at Marseille St. Charles, suitcases a little heavier with souvenirs—handmade soaps, a bottle of rosé, and a stack of postcards we’d picked up along the way. The station’s grand clock ticked on, indifferent to our reluctance to leave. Boarding the train, we stole one last glance at the city through the window, its rooftops glowing in the late summer light.
That was Marseille in the summer of 2023—a place of raw beauty, where the sea meets the streets, and every corner tells a story. Looking back, it feels like a dream we’re itching to revisit. Maybe it’s time to book another ticket.