Morning Style Mongers. Totes struggling to keep up any sort of posts. Is the dilemma between living life and writing bout it. Bit like taking pictures of everywhere we go. Why? How bout just living. Still compelled to do so. And to post them. Porquoi? Still, I/we have other compulsions too.
Marseille douze step program.
I’m leaving Marseille. I was compelled to come here on my own for various reasons. Now its time to leave. I really like it here. Its a really rather different city to much of France. A troubled city I am told. Dont wear your gold, I was told. Mind how you go. Mind has been the big thing for me here. No time to go on ’bout that though, but its what have been trying to ouvre. Marseille does have a menace. An edge. For sure.
Elements of Marseille remind me of a the seaside town our family always holidayed, St.Ives. On other levels it differs, strongly. Both have a religious building upon a hill to the right of the harbour. St.Ives is a tiny chapel. Marseilles is a palace/castle Notre Dame. It has a gold statue of The Lady herself on the top. It’s a mental place, worth the many steps I ran each morning, as I do in St.Ives. Both take your breath away in the climb up.
Another church makes for my digs in Marseille. A mad b’n’b in the crypt area of a church dating to 1060, largely destroyed due to it housing pro-monachy/church meetings later in their history. My window looks out from under Christ armpit. Another breath taking view, espesh’ after all those centuries.
Room with a view: Christ’s pit, the cross from behind.
Am sat writing dans le jardin out the back having breakfast with birds, in and out of cages and church bells over head. I live in one of two rooms that back onto a converted nunnery. Have kept my eyes open for other residents, a clue as two who they might be, but alas am nun the wiser. I loved staying here. In the Old Port. Le Panier area. Amongst the old buidlings, steps and graf’, is this imposing church tower, which I can see from across the port while heaving for oxygen under Marys statue. Hidden is a hippy, free garden to plot. It gets the sun. Must have been nice for the nuns, though not sure would catch too much through their habits.
Nuns Garden. Working hard on me column .
<more word stuff needed>
Some told me that Louis Vuitton in Marseille give their brands bags out inside another non-branded bag so customers dont get robbed. True? No idea, but when French people not from Marseille talk bout it you can see they’re scared.
Nearly finished. My bnb/church from 1060. Pull ya finger out, non?
Though alone, I have spiritual and cultural guide here. Marko, my tall pal from the E5 endz is a native Marseille man dem (will look up correct term later). He has guided me to good bits. These include Toinou. Very much the fruit de la mer equivelant of the Mangal in Dalston. No frills, avec metal fittings, tables and bar, like the deck of a trawler. It is a Marseille institution. You point/order the bits of seafood you want, choose your sauces and sit down and wait. They don’t have electronic flashing beepers discs in the mangal yet that go off from your table when you stuff is ready, though. Tables have a built on bracket for you beeper to rest, or for your platta of Oysters/Lobster/Moules to sit upon.Tout, tout tres bein. Dont have in St.Ives either. Saw a couple of Stoney clad, not so young, Marseille Herberts down there too. Copied what one of them had. Also went for clams with pesto. Were all double good.
Toinou. Google it and go.
Keeping going up the that hill from the Port, and I like best the Notre dame area. Beautiful old architechture, but not a rich gaff. Run down, but still with majestic buildings, old steps and fountains, melded with trappings of the now. Graffiti & L’Herbers everywhere. Arabic market stalls, mobile phone repair shops, fabric sales and burger/pizze slice cafes.
Its largely Arabic. Its poor-ish. Cours Julian is the areas that was most alive out of where I visited. Getting towards old Hackney in its mix of bars and restuant frequented by a mix of people. Its good. Not like St.Ives. Found this place after been there a day and a half already, would have gone back in the night, but was heading posh gaff Rhul for Boulabaisse, in far dressier gear, Guccis and gold bits. Could have gone back after, but not looking to prove such stuff right now, either way, so didnt.
L’Herbets de la Notre Dame dans le Marseille Tuxedo
The Marseille Tuxedo*- effectively double Adidas track suit flex, top and bottom is prevalent and looks great. As documented by the Tall Man, (le clique). Adidas reigns supreme there. Its the uber brand for the M’ folk. Will be addressing when back to UK. Is Marko’s department, so not gonna bang on bout it. Go visit le Mans site. Allez!
<cultural question to l’Herbets: Why hang about side burger/pizza slice bars drinking coffee when there are amazing coffee gaffs right by better coffee. Or fish gaffs? eh? dont get it. NB.This happens in St.Ives too>
What else? loads.. will be going back, for sure. whether am still taping out this old tosh on here, who knows. But if I am, will write bout it.
<talk about Boulabaisse fish stew and ting- too too tres bon>
<loads more, but must go out and live. Vivre la vie, soit libre>
“Let everything happen to you
both beauty and terror
just keep going
no feeling is final”
Rainer Rilke, German poet.
Yeah, yeah Rainer, totes, but all apres de petit dejeuner?
La mode, en garde.