Why You Should Trade Cannes Polar Cover for Marseille's Dirty Glamor | Independent

Why You Should Trade Cannes Polar Cover for Marseille's Dirty Glamor | Independent

Everywhere in the world you look, another city in France - the title it bears lightly, and what few people seem to know applies to it anyway - is where there are blatant juxtapositions.

Loustic corner is located in the & nbsp; a café that is as cool as my cascade infused lemonade. It is located in a dense-looking band connection. & Nbsp;

We dive straight into the crowded, swampy streets of Noailles, attacked by junk, spice colors and sharp smells, from the aerial, cave-like openings of the 19th-century Maison Empereur, France's oldest pharmacy supplier. & nbsp;

And a second down the road, where tense locals watch over when armed police purposefully gather, our guide stops to show the abandoned building, which will soon open as a bougie's four-star hotel. & Nbsp;

The city's elegant urban sprawl is a couple of hours west of the coast of Cannes, which now welcomes the film industry's big and rewards for its annual film festival & nbsp; But Marseille is a world far from the last glitz burned by celebrities.

To begin with, the place carries its inequality on the sleeve. Head to the 19th-century Basilica of Notre Dame de la Garde, located at 149 m, the highest natural point in the city. 360-degree views tell a story supported by our guide.

No excuses or excuses - locals are refreshingly sincere about Marseille's problems. But while many neighborhoods undergo the so-called bo-bo revolution (bourgeois bohemian, French equivalent of gentrification), new trendy outposts seem to be sitting comfortably next to their less Insta-friendly counterparts. It makes no sense that anyone in Marseille's diversity wants to trade a cookie cutter with hipster town; for the soul of the city is in its filthy melange.

Nowhere is diversity clearer than in Marseille food. The city celebrates the year 2019, when the year of gastronomy is designated, as eating very hard and the offering reflects the eclectic cultural heritage of the inhabitants. North African snacks, pastries and shelled cranberries with fatty olives and whole fish in the chaotic daily Marche des Capucins. The traditional French bouillabais is abundant - one of the best is served at Chez Fonfon, where the fish-plated plates are chopped into rich stew bowls with croutons greased with the region's famous skateboard (thick, saffron-infused mayonnaise). Michelin starred food can be found on the same old harbor square as Burger King: the tasteless ranks of its lesser "bo-bo" neighbor, Une Tablet, sign the head chef's garlic aioli, scattered with black focus and scattered with a rainbow. summer fruits. & nbsp;

Panisse - the chunky chickpea chips that are Marseille's answer to street food - make the pasta the perfect apero-sauce-season-or-hate-liquorice and anise-flavored liqueur. We dive into a shop selling artisanal bottles, where we have to meet another beautiful controversy: the owner tells us in fluent French that he is too busy talking, and a moment later the samples force us into our hands and explain the history of compassion & nbsp; despite himself. & nbsp;

Contradictions continue & nbsp; In the Panier district, where money from the 2013 European Capital of Culture in Marseille has transformed the seaside environment by the Breton striped cathedral of La Major. The true follower is the Museum of Euro-Mediterranean Civilizations (MuCem), designed by local architect Rudy Ricciotti as both a public challenger and an exhibition space. Walking along a gently sloping ramp that follows the outside of the glass cube, the sun pushes our footprint through the intricate, intricate iron grid of the building. Random images of each other evoke the waves of the sea around us - MuCem is a bitter bang on the water. Look down and you'll see that delicate Mediterranean blue sparkle in front of you.

Slowly, effortlessly, fashion is replaced completely by something else, as the road disappears from the shaded roof terrace and becomes a winding wall with a glimpse of the old courtyard below. The smells of fennel and curry plant struck me as we passed the herb garden, which is a cozy-looking public recliner hidden in green. This is the real Eden - turn your head anyway and there is an ugly double lane. In fact, Marseille can be just a fun example of the cool: beautiful-ugly.

Its embodiment is Cite & nbsp; Radieuse, an Unesco-listed brutalist icon designed by Le Corbusier in the 1940s. Colored windows surround the windows around the structure of industrial gray concrete; sharp urinated old lifts rumble to the top floor, where the stunning futuristic rooftop terrace offers panoramic views of the city and sea, leaving me dizzy. & nbsp;

If it was somewhere else, they would have figured it out financially - sending out influencers to resist the quirky architecture and paying for a nasal overnight stay in a three-star hotel, which now takes a lot. building. Instead, it is marked by a French non-initiative that sees rooms pay a reasonable £ 152 a night and it doesn't seem to care if you come or not. Take a selfie, don't do it. Cof is bof.

Part of the charm of Marseille is how easy it is to change its distinctive brand - grit-glam - to regular glam. Jump off the bus from the main station and you'll be in Aix-en-Provence in 30 minutes. It is an almost fantasy version of French pride that combines cobblestone streets, pastel shutters, French balconies and a surprising number of lively bars thanks to its large student population. & nbsp;

It is a wine country and has many vineyards where the famous pale salmon roses under the hot spring sun can be rosed. We move to Chateau La Coste, where our tasting is preceded by a tour of the area to spot some of the real estate's 26 contemporary works of art, such as Frank Gehry, Tracey Emin and Renzo Piano. Art, nature, booze, food - it combines everything I love during my French vacation.

But it's back in Marseille, where I find it hardest to whine. In this city defined by the proximity of the water, I have decided to do diving. On the man-made beach south of downtown Plage du Prado, I ignore the whirlwinds whistling around me and head straight for the other world. For the British, it is refreshing, but warm enough and I watch people drifting around, seeing families, dog walkers, young people meeting after work, all rubbing in this common room. A chic middle-aged French woman is wrapped in thick layers and scarves against the wind; a group of girls slipped into smaller bikinis for the amount of sunshine. & nbsp;

Les Bords de Mer, a member of the world's smallest luxury hotels, reopened this year directly on the beach. & Nbsp; Each room has ocean views, off the beaten path, chic design and access to a rooftop pool and patio. Double from 165 kr, room only. & Nbsp; slh.com

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