Morning Train to Marseille

Mango coat
Mango jeans
Sezane handbag
Mango sneakers (similar)
RayBan sunglasses
Mejuri earrings (similar)
Location: Rue du Timon – Marseille, France

Marseille, October 12, 2021

Dear friends,

This morning, we left the apartment in the dark, so early that the metro wasn’t running yet. We shared the bench at the bus stop with two people for whom it was still the night before – they were on their way home from a party and hadn’t been to bed. We’d had a full night of sleep, but its hard to feel truly alert at 5 am under any circumstances. Once upon a time not so long ago, you could arrive at the train station two minutes prior to departure. Sprinting to your car just in time for the train to pull away was not unsual. COVID protocols now dictate much earlier arrival and I, who suffers an irrational fear of missed trains, do, too. So we’re bleary-eyed and disoriented when we arrive at Gare de Lyon to catch the morning train to Marseille.

Marseille. The city that plays a starring role in my favourite book, The Count of Monte Cristo. We’ve talked about this trip for years. The glittering port of the restauration probably sounds much lovelier in literary terms than it was in reality, but either way, the glory of the southern city is notably faded now. It has a reputation for crime, dirt and poverty, particularly among returning North American tourists (who, let’s face it, often fail to do their research.) But for me, it will always be home to Edmond Dantes, the romantic hero of my early adolescence. I want to see it, to give new perspective and substance to the old story I know so well.

So I sleep through a very early morning train ride. This trip was hastily, impulsive but excitedly, planned. Just days after we booked flights to Paris for a trip we weren’t convinced we’d actually be able to take, I got an email from SNCF, the national rail company in France. I’ve been on their subscribers list since we lived in Paris in 2012, if not longer, so this is a weekly occurrence and not normally an event of any particular note. But the email came days after France introduced their vaccine pass, and someone at the SNCF offices was clearly panicked that no one would ride the train once a vaccine pass became a boarding requirement. They advertised fall trips at deeper discounts than I’d ever seen – even back in 2012, when we took summer train trips for 15 euros each direction.

When I actually logged on to the SNCF website, the discounts seemed too good to be true. There’s always been some reason we haven’t gone to Marseille – a long train ride, the high price of tickets… the list goes on. This year, there were no obstacles in the way. SNCF set the return fare at 19 euros per person for the high-speed train journey, meaning we would be in Marseille in just over three hours where it would take seven hours to drive the same distance. I booked almost without thinking.

Leading up to this trip to France, we went back and forth in our thinking. Some days we were sure we’d be able to get on the plane with no problem, while other days, the news convinced us that travel would be cancelled again before our departure date. That we’re here still feels unreal sometimes. The morning train ride is, admittedly, not terribly pleasant. This is a budget trip, which means the seats are stiff, their fabric old and a bit grimy. There is no dining car, not even a coffee machine on board. And I don’t dare to try the bathroom, whose odor permeates the three rows of seats closest to it. But it’s happening. That’s what matters.

We pull into Gare Saint-Jean, a mostly open air station under the southern sun, just after 9 am. It isn’t pristine like Paris, but it’s still beautiful. After all the years of waiting, especially the last two, we’re just happy to be here. Even as we drag our rolling suitcases downhill over centuries old cobblestones littered with garbage, a route that makes me wonder if Marseille’s reputation might not have some basis in reality, towards our hotel near the port, that’s the feeling that overwhelms me – gratitude. That we’ve made it this far, that we had the privilege to get up early to catch the morning train and now, to feel a bit lost in an unfamiliar city. It was worth waiting for… but I hope we never have to wait so long again.

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