Vallon des Auffes and a Little More

I left off this morning’s post with a bouillabaisse lunch at a restaurant close to Vieux Port in Marseille. By the time I finished, it was close to 2:00.

As it had been when I quickly ducked into the restaurant, where I didn’t have any duck, it was still pouring when I was getting ready to leave. I checked my weather app. It told me that the rain should stop within an hour.

My planned anchor activity for the afternoon was a visit to a neighbourhood, Vallon des Auffes, more than half an hour away. And, being a neighbourhood, rather than, say, a museum or a paperclip factor, that would be outdoors too.

I didn’t relish spending up to an hour in the rain.

I’d been saving a museum for a possible rainy day activity. But the forecast for tomorrow is for rain most of the day. Although the amount keeps dropping every time I look at the forecast. So I might not need my rainy day option at all. Nevertheless, I wanted to save it for tomorrow in case.

The restaurant was only a few blocks from my hotel. So I decided to go back to my room and wait out the showers.

I wasn’t there much more than half an hour when I looked out my window and saw that it had stopped raining. Not only that, but there was a small blue patch in the sky. And the forecast didn’t call for any more rain for the rest of the day.

Allons-y! To Vallon des Auffes!

Vallon des Auffes

The walk to Vallon des Auffes was, for the most part, beside la mer.

Oh, no! “La Mer” is playing on a continuous loop in my head again. This time it’s a Muzak version.

Along the way, I got some great views of la mer the sea and a large arch monument that commemorates the First World War.

In truth, I quite like the song “La Mer.” (And I like la mer.) But, at least when it comes to the song, you can indeed have too much of a good thing. Make it stop!

Vallon des Auffes is a neighbourhood that wraps around a small cove. The street to it from Vieux Port, near my hotel, rises probably the equivalent of a couple of storeys above sea level by the time it reaches Vallon des Auffes.

A beautiful arched stone bridge carries the road over the cove near where it meets la mer. (AWWKKK!)

The cove of Vallon des Auffes is smaller than it looked in the picture provided by my walking tour app, which rated Vallon des Auffes as a must-see.

But despite its diminutive size, it oozes charm. It should probably have that looked at. I’m not a doctor, but I think oozing charm is the primary symptom of one serious disease or another.

Because of its vibrant character, I agree with the “must-see” rating of Vallon des Auffes.

The picture my walking tour app provided must have been taken from the bridge. I saw it from that vantage point, too. It’s lovely from up there, but I wanted to get up close and personal with Vallon des Auffes. So I descended the stairs to immerse myself in it.

Immerse myself in the character of the neighbourhood, you understand. Not immerse myself in the cove per se.

The small cove is surrounded by a narrow road. Behind that are very colourful low-rise buildings.

My walking tour app, GPSmyCity, told me that, “This quaint valley houses around fifty fishermen’s cabins and small traditional fishing boats, including the iconic pointu boats.”

The buildings looked like more than cabins to me. The ones adjacent to the road around the cove were at least two storeys tall. And some were three or four storeys. But despite being more than what I’d call cabins, they were still very quaint and, as I said, colourful.

Some of the buildings had restaurants or bars on their ground floors.

As to the boats, I wouldn’t know a pointu boat from a dory, dinghy, or yacht. But more than a few of the boats looked more like pleasure craft than fishing boats. Those didn’t have much of a working area for fishing.

Then again, a fishing net was stretched out beside the road around the cove. So I guess some fishers do operate out of Vallon des Auffes. Unless, of course, they put the net out there for show.

Or perhaps it’s all a front. Maybe Vallon des Auffes is an elaborate cover for a particularly nefarious crypto Ponzi scheme. Probably not. But you never know.

Perhaps some of the fishing boats were out, you know, fishing when I was there. I’m told that’s what fishing boats are often used for, which is how they got the name “fishing boat.”

However, if some of the fishing boats were out fishing, I don’t know what they do when they come back. All of the docking spots around the cove looked occupied, with one side filled with boats double-parked. Maybe they have valet parking. Probably not.

A road comes down to the cove at the back end of it. But it heads away from my hotel. The next place I wanted to visit is a little bit off a direct route back to my hotel. After that, I wanted to take in a sight that is a little farther on the way back to my hotel. I chose those destinations while still at Vallon des Auffes by asking my walking tour app to show me nearby attractions.

So I left Vallon des Auffes the way I came, climbing up some stairs to the road over the bridge.

Palais du Pharo

Palais du Pharo was commissioned in 1852 as a seaside palace by Prince Louis-Napoleon, who became Napoleon III soon after that. It’s a grand-looking building that’s beautiful to see from the outside, but your average tourist can’t go in. These days, it’s used as a conference and cultural venue.

While it’s pleasant to look at the palace’s exterior, the real reason to go is for the park beside it.

Palais du Pharo is up considerably above sea level. Because it was designed as a seaside palace, it, not surprisingly, is by the sea. The park provides some great views out to the sea, and an incredible view down the length of Vieux Port to the city behind it.

At the other end of Vieux Port, Marseille spreads out up a hill. From the Palais du Pharo vantage point, the city looks like a much larger version of a quaint old European hill town, but one that climbs up the hill, rather than just sitting at the top.

Unfortunately, the picture I took doesn’t come anywhere close to doing the view justice. I probably should have zoomed in somewhat. You can barely make out the city beyond Vieux Port. Sorry about that. You’ll just have to come and visit it for yourself.

Heading over to Palais du Pharo is well worth the visit just for the view. But the building is grand to look at, too.

Not Citadelle de Marseille

Here’s another place where I’m not quite sure what I should call it. My walking tour app refers to it as Fort St. Nicholas. But the signs that Marseille has placed on its streets pointing to it say

Citadelle de Marseille
(Fort St. Nicholas)

A sign by the Citadelle/Fort explains in both French and English that the Citadelle is the high point of Fort St. Nicholas, and that’s where the public can go. According to my walking tour app, the fort was completed in 1664. It’s since been restored, and a portion of it is still used by the military as an officers’ mess. I wonder, do officers have to make their own mess, or can they get lower-level enlisted people to mess things up for them?

The fort is up a hill and is supposed to provide more great views of the city. (“Supposed to” is foreshadowing.)

I climbed up to the top of the hill to the entrance to the Citadelle/Fort and was greeted by another big sign in French and English. This sign told me that, currently, you can visit the Citadelle de Marseille only on a guided tour.

There was a ticket office beside the sign. I went in. I asked about the tour. The guy at the counter was very friendly, but he told me that the last tour of the day had already finished. (It was about 4:45.) He said that they run the tours only on weekends at this time of year. Today is Saturday, but they’ve cancelled the tours for tomorrow because of the lousy weather forecast for then. I leave Marseille on Monday. So, I won’t be seeing the Citadelle de Marseille this trip.

After that, I walked back to my hotel, stopping to sit for a while on a bench facing Vieux Port, where I contemplated my failure at the fort, but also my good fortune of it not being a Toronto winter.