South of France - Part II

From the train station I look over the city. The streets descend in structured rows leading to vieux port.

Walking the streets I imagine how it would be to live here every day. Waking from deep sleep in a large cool room with tall ceilings. Opening the window and shutters - greeting the light and sounds of the street. Yawning and rubbing my eyes as I relax into the old chair with my bare feet casually stretched out along the terrace railing above the crowds that walk below.

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Walking up the hill towards Notre Dame de la Garde I see old men playing bowls in a small enclosed courtyard. A popular game here with the old men, but also across all generations.


Sitting I watch as a man wraps one of the metal balls in a cotton hankie he pulls from his back pocket. Pinching each end of the hankie he shakes it back and forth polishing the ball until it shines. Readying himself he flips the ball underarm towards the small target - hoping it will come to a rest close by.

Once the game is over the men collect their balls. Some bend and pick them up by hand, while others have a string with a magnet attached. Dangling it above they lower until magnet and ball click, then lift the married two to their hand with elegance and ease.

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Arriving at Notre Dame de la Garde I find a constant stream of tourists flowing through. Climbing the stairs I enter. Inside the crowd calls to one another, yells, cries, shouts, moans, clicks cameras and bump into benches while transfixed on the roof. Beautiful as the church is I leave the main chamber disappointed by the lack of 'holy atmosphere'.




Walking down the hill I stumble upon another church by chance, this one off the tourist route. Stepping inside, it's cool, the walls smell - but not in an unpleasant way, and the room is dimly lit. Sitting I enjoy a moment alone with my thoughts before rising. The room is completely still as I admire its beauty and simplicity.