From our plane window the Marseille coast resembled Big Sur with cliff and rock formations strewn out into the ocean and waves crashing hard against honey colored stone, but the water here was less Pacific-dark-blue and more Jamaica-clear-blue. Very beautiful…. from the air.
We only stayed in Marseille long enough to meet our friend Jen who was joining us from another flight, rent a car and leave. They call Naples Rome’s dirty little brother, and we had heard that Marseille was Paris’ dirty little sister.
Provence was our destination and lavender fields were our siren. My wife Alex had seen pictures of the velvety seas of lavender that bloom in Provence once a year, and the photographer and aesthete in her just couldn’t resist.