Day 15 -- Nice to Marseille

Thursday, 21 September 2023

I got up really early to get to the train station in time for a 7:30 a.m. train.

When I saw this kiosk in the Nice train station it made me think of the old Saturday Night Live skit about the First National Bank of Change.

How do we make a profit? Volume!

The train from Nice was delayed by about 25 minutes. While waiting, I answered some questions that a couple of Welsh guys -- well, the older guy was Welsh and his son was Canadian, but they were both wearing Welsh gear -- had about the departure board and the track numbering. Just two weeks ago I was almost paralyzed with anxiety when dealing with public transportation, and here I am now, pretending I know what I'm doing. 😀 I could be a tour guide. (Well ... if I liked people.)

The train from Nice to Marseille was largely uneventful, except at one of the intermediate stops. An older French couple got on at Cannes and found a party of three already sitting in the couple's assigned seats. This was about four rows in front of me. The seated party spoke no French and the French couple spoke no English. Although the train had already begun moving, there were more people stuck behind the couple waiting to get to their own seats. I watched and listened as they were each unable to figure out what the others were saying. After a few minutes of that, I left my seat, walked up to the English-speaking folks, and said "He's asking you which train car your tickets are for. This is car eight." Turns out they were supposed to be in car two. 😏 I could be an usher. (Well ... if I liked people.)

Got to Marseille too early to check in to my hotel. I got a burrito from a hole-in-the-wall place for lunch. It was really good. And I managed about 90% of the transaction in French.

Still too early to check in, so I walked to the Rugby Village down at the Old Port. Oops, they don't allow backpacks in the Rugby Village. So I hung around the port and took a few photos.

A narrow street near the port

 

The Old Port in Marseille

Architecture: Palais de la Bourse

I had now killed about enough time to head to the hotel, and there was a Metro stop right there at the Old Port. In fact, I had been leaning up against its entry stairs when I searched for the best way from the port to the hotel. How convenient! But that station was closed due to some sort of technical problem. Oops. I walked to the nearest open station, which ended up being the train station that I had initially arrived at. Then it was an easy Metro ride to about two blocks from the hotel. 

Then to the Stade de Marseille for the France v. Namibia match. (Full match writeup elsewhere, sooner or later.) The subway ride there was the most squished I've ever been in a subway. I had five different people pressed tight against me the entire way. It's not much of an exaggeration to say that if I had lifted my feet of the floor I would have stayed upright. 

The ride back from the match was not quite as crowded. And then when I got to the Saint Charles station and transferred to a different line for the last leg to the hotel, I had a car all to myself.

An empty subway car all to myself

The Saint Charles station had escalators with transparent sidewalls You could see the wheels at the end and see them turning. It made it easy to tell whether an escalator was going up or down from a distance. I've seen this on quite a few escalators here in France, but this is the first one I took a photo of. (Maybe they have them like this in the US, but I don't recall seeing it before,)

Visible escalator wheels

 ...doug