Lunch in Marseille
We left Calvi on a bus for Bastia on October 6th so we could catch a plane to Marseille. It was a scenic bus ride along curvy mountain roads - the blue Mediterranean, mist-covered hills, fertile fields, charming villages, etc., etc. After maybe the fiftieth curve, I almost wished I had some of that Dramamine I didn't need on the Atlantic. But dang if it wasn't stuffed in a suitcase in the basement of the coach. Fortunately, the scenery was so pretty neither of us got woozy. High-five us! 🙌
Then, we were in Marseille again with just enough time to snag lunch before hopping the train to Lyon. We ditched our suitcases as a luggage locker - and here's where I will admit to asking Anthropic's Claude for advice (thanks to pal Rebecca's analog suggestion): Claude steered us to a highly-rated little Tunisian restaurant that was remarkably crowded, hot, and jolly. The food was dee-licious!
After we scarfed our tajin and couscous, we hoofed it up a hill back to the train station, but not before I could snag a few quick pix of a cool mural and a giant arch along the way, and then we ran smack into The Authorities.
Evidently, since much of the city were either at lunch, les Po-Po out-numbered the civilians on the streets. Dressed in head-to-toe black armor, they basically loitered amongst themselves, just causally chatting, some armed (guns?!), near about a dozen whatever paddy-wagons are called these days parked along the curb. Steve wouldn't let me take photos of them. 😑 So we kept our heads down and hustled to our train. And, hours later, we learned what we'd narrowly missed. Ah, yet there's more to share on that topic, but it'll have to wait.
In the meantime, there was a blissful lull that involved four days in Lyon.
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