The Exotic Coast of Marseille

Running Head: TRAVEL ESSAY

TRAVEL ESSAY

Travel Essay

The Exotic Coast of Marseille

On a discreet edge of the mountain as I was overlooking the Morgiou village, I thought I had got the ideal spot to bivouac. However, events quickly went downhill from thereon. It began with the occasional sounds of rummaging in the bushes above me. This occurred every moment I was quiet, purposely prolonging movement. When night came in, the outlook of what could be sneaking out there in the dusk started to cloud my mind. Before was a beautiful mountainous view overlooking a small village started to feel more like a hunting place, although I was the ground’s prey. Now being unable to bear the anticipation further, I rose and turned my torch on. I couldn’t believe my eye. There were dazzling eyes in the thickets right above me, watching me. Let me stop for a minute and elaborate on how I found myself in this situation.

The Wild Coast

This explorer fell in love with the wild coast.

Image at https://www.marseille-tourisme.com/en/discover-marseille/highlights/nature/if-castle-and-frioul-islands/

Exhausted from using the public transport systems across Western Europe, I decided that it was time for me to encounter the in-betweens of destinations. Throughout most of our history as humans, individuals have been traveling to different destinations on foot, so physically going to the areas they ventured to. Today, people take transportation for granted-we close their eyes, play music, and voila! We have reached our destination. There is no offense in doing this. Current means of transportation have been incredibly convenient. However, I wanted to experience the arrival to places on foot.

The Massif des Calanques

My adventure on foot enabled me to discover the Massif des Calanques in Southern France. It is a symbolic stretch of mountainous coast. This rugged and wild landscape extends between the second-largest city in France, Marseille and Cassis, the fishing town. This region is also the only European national park to be peri-urban, marine, and terrestrial at the same time. Being a haven for those looking for epic hikes and beaches, this Mediterranean wonder is one of France’s most beautiful places. In the national park’s heart lies a colossal limestone cliff, scored with deep valleys. These rocks cropped up several years ago, probably in the Crisis of Messinian Salinity. To encounter how humans moved before the public transport invention, my plan was to trek to Cassis from Marseille through the Calanques National Park.

Towards the end of June, an ex-military veteran who happened to be my Airbnb host whizzed me down to the beginning of the trail on his motorcycle. Nevertheless, I was more afraid of his driving than the hike itself. Despite a few miscalculations and errors, the initial night went as planned. I alighted at the Callelongue port at about four o’clock in the evening. The port is usually called “le bout du monde,” which means the end of the world. Beyond the port of Callelongue marks the entrance of the national park where the wilderness starts, therefore the end of civilization or the world. While I was a mile away to the East of Marseille, I spent the night on the Calanque de la Mounine’s shore. The shore is a tiny enchanting inlet known for its starfish, scorpionfish, and sea urchins. An ancient semaphore that seemed abandoned overlooks this narrow cove. While listening to the waves rocking forward and backward, I saw a resemblance of the national park’s remarkable biodiversity.

This psychedelic yellow-silver ragwort was developing out of the rocks’ crack. The place had wild yet strangely beautiful plants. When dusk came in, the smallest sounds of the wilderness magnified. The amazing ocean crawled towards my direction, wave after wave, but never reach me. Small plants shivered in the breeze of the wild. The buzzing insects in the wild desired to take a bite of my fresh blood. My environment felt infinite, although I attempted to fit in. In the end, I drifted off to lay down on my bed but was woken several times by park guards in speed boats and parking helicopters. It is illegal to bivouac in the Calanques, however knowing that most wild camping is usually illegal, I confirmed this, knowing I would leave no trace. Fortunately, because of the rock’s shape, the boats could not see me; however, the helicopter stayed a risk.

The French Village

I enjoyed watching the French Village from the Mountain top.

Image at https://www.lelongweekend.com/best-marseille-beaches/

When the noise from the helicopters and speed boats faded away, the wild’s beautiful stillness reoccurred. I became lonely, once more and my memory of the next day became unforgettable. The trail markings guided me towards the oceanfront scrubland previous to the Queyrons and Marseilleveyre’s creeks, appearing like the Wild West. After that, I moved beyond the Cortiou, L’Escu, and Podesta’s winding cliffs, which felt like a tropical rainforest at times below the trees. The relatively flat terrain and cool morning air enabled me to cover a large distance quickly; however, approaching Sormiou at midday, the sun became uncomfortably hot and harsh, and shade became less. While traversing a steep climb, I could not bear the intensity of the heat from the sun. Trekking in the Massif des Calanques is greatly advised against during the summer seasons because of the risk of wildfire occurrences. It was unfortunately too late to turn back, which brought a lot of regretful thoughts.

I had already covered many miles through trekking before a realization came to me. If I continued going with the trail, there would have been no place to fill up water, and I was already running on an empty bottle. The prospect of this was far too harmful to try; therefore, I detoured towards the tiny Morgiou port village, where I hoped to wild camp nearby and seek drinking water before the next day. The walk was torturously hot and hard; however, with evening just coming up, the mountains began to open up, and the village emerged from above. The view was beautiful, but I was too tired to appreciate it fully. Feeling defeated and ill, I wanted nothing more than my home’s comforts. At that time, I would have probably quit if I had an easy way to do so, but I had no way out. Therefore, I sucked it up and played tough. I told myself that I would make it to Cassis and lay down in a comfortable and nice bed the following day. That thought kept me going through the wilderness.

Mother Nature

Mother Nature gave the cliffs a pink and warm glow of wonder. As night approaches, dusk replaced the beautiful glow of the cliff. That is when the rummaging sounds in the bushes above me cropped out. Eventually gaining the courage to confront the unwelcoming presence of the eerie, I turned my headlight on. I was shocked by what I saw. There were dazzling bright eyes in the thickets, watching me. I packed away my items as fast as I could and rushed down the mountain in the dark, slipping almost twice on the mountain’s loose rocks. Although probably it was just a fox or a rabbit, the idea of being stalked by a wild boar brought a deep alarm to me. These nocturnal hunters are the Massif des Calanques’ apex predators. I thought to myself how I had become a coward as I sneaked through the French village during the night. I was too naive to endure the harsh realities of the natural world.

I decided to sleep in the open just on the rocks above the French village port. Watching the stars above me was a beautiful experience. It was so quiet outside that I could even hear beer bottles being opened on several occasions through the cracking sounds. Within the shadows, I was able to hear the villagers chattering inside their houses. These humane sounds brought me comfort compared to the wildlife’s amplification, especially the beautiful French language. On the other side of the port, across the water, cigarette sparks showed figures in the dark, but no one was aware of my presence out there. There was something exceptional about this encounter; however, I can still not put those feelings into words.

Amazing Fishing Experience!

The next morning, fishers were loading up their boats. I recall that next to Morgiou was the Cosquer Cave. This cavern is situated under the water and had prehistoric rock art engravings. Despite the previous dread of the night, I had an amazing feeling since I had slept in a region surrounded by so much history. I kept on walking, keeping that in mind, remembering that soon I would be back to civilization. Traversing the steep mountains, a wild rabbit sprinted across the trail in the distance – this made me remember something I had read in the past. I read how eastward from Sugiton lies the Calanques’ wildest part. The higher I climbed towards Mont Puget, the highest peak of the mountain range, the fewer hikers I noticed. Hardship increased, beauty intensified, the weight of my luggage made all the difference. In this place, vegetation was less and spaced far between each other; however, the wildlife was everywhere amidst the granite and rocks.

With no motivation left, I chose a song that guided me through my hardships. I chose the song will expectations that it will inspire me to be fearless and strong, but instead, a slow romantic Tom Waits’ song titled “Take It with Me” emerged. Following the song’s bittersweet piano introduction at the start, Tom starts to sing, “The phone is off the hook,” and “no one knows where we are.” I started to imagine that he was referring to him and me as we journey together in spirit. I followed the song while bearing this lonely mountain footpath’s consequences. When I paused to see these majestic cliffs and miraculous limestone developments, I picked up a tiny rock from under my feet. Whatever occurred from there on, accompanied by this mountain range’s little fragment, I will live to remember the strange coast of Marseille.