Come travel with Me to Marseille.

BY CATHERINE YESAYAN

My flight landed in Marseille at 10:30 in the morning. I was coming from Yerevan via a two-hour overlay in Athens.

I collected my heavy luggage from the carousel. Then I trudged to the information desk. I wanted to know which option would be better—either to take a shuttle or to take a taxi to Marseille. The smiling young attendant at the desk told me that the shuttle bus would be my best bet.

The bus was going to drop us at the train station at Marseille, (Gare de Saint Charles) where a week ago a crazy guy had stabbed and killed two women. That was scary. But my host at the airbnb had assured me that there was no reason to be scared because it was an isolated incident.

Before heading to the shuttle bus, I grabbed a sandwich from Burger King then hauled my two heavy suitcases to the short distance to the bus station. I paid only $10 for the bus. I made a mental note to myself, ”Next time I will pack very light…”

The shuttle drove none-stop to Saint Charles station, from there I took a taxi to my room which I had booked through the airbnb site. The taxi driver, contrary to my assumption, was helpful and didn’t rob me. He stopped at an ATM, so I could take out some money. the fare for the taxi came to 12 Euro, I tipped him a few extra Euros and he thanked and helped me with my luggage.

A few months earlier when I had decided to visit Marseille, a well traveled friend discouraged me from going there. She said, “I didn’t enjoy Marseille at all. The city was dirty, unsafe and full of ethnic Arabs.” I’m glad I didn’t listen to her.

My first impression from the airport and then from Charles’ train station and then from the taxi driver, was very good. Everything looked clean and the people were sociable and ready to help. Both at the airport and the station there were guards with automatic fire arms. That seemed little creepy but in the mean time their presence made me to feel safe.

I arrived at my room around one in the afternoon. My host welcomed me.
I was very tired, because I had not slept the night before and I had only dozed off on the plane. So I passed out on my bed.

At around 5pm after I got rested a bit, I went walking to the “Vieux Port” or the old port. It’s one of the oldest harbors/ports in the world. My host assured me the violent crime that Marseille is known for often happens in the neighborhoods outside of the touristic areas. She also said to be aware of pickpockets and the gypsies which are roaming all over Europe.

As my host had mentioned, the sunset at the port was magnificent. I was able to capture a few marvelous pictures of the sunset along side of the port. Then I had a simple dinner at a cafe and very satisfied returned home.

This little escapade set the tone for me to love the city and the people whom I found to be extremely friendly and helpful. In the sense of cleanliness, it was no different than any other big city around the world or maybe even cleaner.

Walking by the sidewalks, on my way to the Old Port I passed a few homes that they had pretty arrangements of plants in pots outside of their windows and on the sidewalks too. I had never seen a similar set up anywhere.

While I was strolling at the Old Port, there I saw a guy, wearing a special city uniform, walking around with a stick and garbage cans on a cart. He was picking up trash that was laying around on the sides. I took a picture of him.

A woman saw me taking the snapshot and asked, “why did you take a picture? don’t you have people in your country who pick up trash?” I said, “As a matter of fact, no we don’t have.”

***

My purpose of coming to Marseille was to meet the Armenian community whose presence in Marseille goes back to the 15th century when Armenian merchants settled their. The current population, however, is mainly the result of immigration from the late 19th and early 20th century, from Turkey.

Although, the majority of immigrants arrived in Marseille following the genocide, a second wave came during the Soviet Union years. The most recent generation of Armenians who arrived in Marseille are from Armenia who left the country to find better living situations in France.

I had put aside the following day to explore the Armenian community in Marseille where about 100,000 Armenians reside. First on my agenda was to see the park or the square that the city of Marseille had dedicated it to an Armenian Revolutionary character Soghomon Tehlirian, who is considered a national hero by Armenians.

Tehlirian was the guy who assassinated Talaat Pasha, the main architect of the Armenian Genocide in Berlin on March 15 1921. In a two day trial, Tehlirian was found not guilty by the German court, and was freed.

The next morning my host walked with me to the nearest metro station (Noaille) and told me how to buy a ticket and what direction to take to go to the park. After getting my ticket I took the escalators downstairs. There I saw a shoe repair kiosk. I stopped to ask if I was on the right direction.

I said in French, “Sorry to bother you. Can you tell me how to get to this address.â€