So...last left off in Barcelona. We had done laundry that morning and we're planning to have a slower day of walking around, running a few errands....maybe a little shopping...and that's exactly what we did. We are very comfortable in our little section of Barcelona and wander wherever and see what we like. We ride the subway no problem. Went out for dinner and then was on Las Ramblas at night, which is totally different than during the day...but fun. Never felt leary of the crowd or the city, Barcelona is very touristy. However, we did wander too far south for a bit, and just as the guide book had said...it got into the junky and protestute section, so we wandered back. No harm done, chalk it up to experience.
Sunday morning was rainy. We were up and out fairly early to catch a 8:45 train to Marseille France. Got on our beloved subway, headed up the steps to the street...dead stop. No idea where we're supposed to go, and we've got 20 minutes to spare. Two American girls are also standing on the street looking a little lost. We had asked at our hotel where to go, and had a basic idea, but only from a subway persepctive. Once on the street in an area of the city we hadn't been to before, not the foggiest idea. Thankfully train in English is pretty close to Train in Spanish and the nice non-English speaking man that I accosted on the street pointed us in the right direction. We would have found it, another block would have shown that we were close, but had to go down and around to get to it. So, no harm done, get to the train station. American girls are from Iowa and California, but studying in Switzerland...and had taken the weekend in Barcelona. Our train was assigned seating, they were in a different car....so bye bye to the girl.
So, trains in Europe. There are lots of them, they go everywhere, are used as a commuter system by the locals, and are cheap and fairly fast. There is also security, rare tickets checks, and sometimes some questionable characters. We, being train rookies, find our car and seats and sit exactly where we should. Then otice that dude in front of us has definately gone with the European no shower rule, and I'm not smelling that for 2.5 hours...so we move. No one cares. This was an older train and tonnes of room, put your legs up on the seats facing you, spread out...no problemo. Another item to know, there is very little announcement ha the train is leaving. You are supposed to know when your train is, and if you're not on it....then too bad for you. There is an announcement, basically as it is ready to pull out. No conductor or anything you would expect...it just leaves.
Train to Marseille, uneventful. Read up on France, napped. Oh, but then I tried to get lunch. We had 2nd class tickets, which really only means that you can exchange them if you need to. First class are fancy, I guess...I didn't see those cars. Anyway, there is a lunch car, which is just a counter where you can get sandwiches, chips, pop and packaged cookies, that kind of thing. I go back to get us a sandwhich and drink. Now, Casey has been doing most of the ordering. He's much better with language than I am, even language he doesn't really know. Spanish has been pretty good, though because there are so many tourists in Barcelona, they are quick to switch to English when they hear the firt word from us. Anyway, Mr. Lunch Car was not very impressed that I didn't have any Spanish. Even the other guy, who did not have English as his first language, gave him a hard time for being such a rude dude to me. Whatever. So I get two sandwhichs, those kind that come pre packaged. Europeans take their food very seriously, so rather than just give me the two sandwhiches, he takes them to the back, removes from packaging and grills them up. Yum Mr. Rude, thanks. Grilled ham and swiss sandwhiches for lunch on the train...delightful.
Marseille France. This time we're ready. We have the address of our hotel, we've read the whole section on Marseille in our Provence and the French Riviera book. We know how to watch for pickpockets, and Casey is pretty comfortable with his French, as limited as it might be. Arrive...dumb founded again. We might have been fine if the hotel wasn't on a very small street, therefore not listed on any of the big maps. You know how they list the major streets and draw the little ones, but don't list all the names...that's where our hotel was. I can't remember how I found it...online somewhere...link from a link...not sure. So we're stuck again in a city we have not the slightest idea where to go. We'd love to take transit, if we knew where. So hail a cab. He knows where, will take us for 15€...great. We discovered later that we are supposed to be scammed at least once in every city we visit. This was Marseille. Once we had our bearings of the area later, we saw that he had driven in circles to make the trip seem longer, but really we were a 10 minute walk from the Train Station. Live and learn. Hotel is decent, nothing amazing...thank you Travelocity.
So, as always, head out to get the lay of the land. France looks like Spain...old and stone. But, as should be expected, Marseille is especially old looking...as it is the oldest city in France. It's also particularily run down, and has a different feel to it. There is a large population of African and Arabic people, so we are feeling a little out of our element, and a little intimidated. Especially when we get off track in our wandering and are the only white people on the street and starting to get looks. Head back to the more tourist area, which are small as Marseille does not attract tourists like some of the other places.
Find a lovely big church, shocking...and head in to check it out. Very nice, big, insence smelling...they all are, took lots of pics. (I really will post pics soon) And out to a cafe. We're starving, the grilled cheese is long gone. Into a grandma run cafe for pastries and hot choc. Grandma and daughter have no English, not even 'hi'. But teenage son who works the till is very excited to practise his English, Casey is just as excited to start using his French. He's been practising to himself on the train. Running phrases and questions to see if he can get us through 4 days in France. His dad would be proud, he ordered, said we didn't want to sit outside because it was too windy, talked a bit to the teenage boy, paid the bill. We will survive in France.
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