I had initially searched for a way around Marseille, longing for the fresh air and picturesque views of nature I was moved by on the buses between Cassis and Aix-en-Provence. However, the practicality and convenience of the train soon emerged as lucrative, which is how I came to be seated opposite a loquacious Marseillais with steady self-assurance.
Introducing himself by way of offering an interesting observation in French, I replied "Je n'est parle pas Francaise" with kindness and curiosity, prompting him to switch seamlessly to English. Working as an English teacher had provided plenty of opportunities to perfect his second language. I forgave him the vaguely unkempt appearance because he seemed well-travelled. It turns out you can get away with having scruffy blond hair if you have charisma.
The people in Paris were too tense, he admitted, after we paused for a moment to consider the cultural significance of his birthplace. Marseille represented a more relaxed lifestyle, warmth and sunshine, and the beautiful Provencal geography had an abundance of charming rural retreats on offer. Indeed, one of these was the current destination - work set aside for the year, and unstructured free time on the horizon, he had attuned to his surroundings anew.
The Frenchman stood up to appreciate the view from the other side of the carriage, leaning confidently against the luggage rack until it gave way a bit, almost toppling him over. With a witty remark about the facilities not being up to scratch, he resumed the pleasurable viewing, spirits very much intact. I recognised complaining about external circumstances to be a French custom, not indicative of one's real interior state.
Back in his seat, I thought he might be being co-conspirational in confiding, "Everyone's afraid of something," with a twinkle in the eyes. Unfortunately he had something else in mind: "You know, that mask [you're wearing] won't protect you against the coronavirus. Its particles are so small, they just float straight through. It may protect you from some other germs, but as a shield against that affliction it's quite ineffective." Disappointed at this disinformation, but wanting to continue the conversation, I indicated I was protecting myself in general. He considered this, and revealed he trusted in God to protect him from harm.
We started to talk about climate change, and I felt the need to voice my despair that humans were bringing each other to the point of extinction. Thankfully he was aware of the threat and described a nearby river, whose water levels had been found to be receding. Not having reconciled my urge to travel by plane and my desire to protect the environment, preachiness was not mine to impart. I couldn't refrain from the sort of gloom one might experience when based in a city which might soon experience a shortage of fresh water, though.
The conversation moved on to science fiction, something I know little about, but have noticed many of my friends swear by. His eyes lit up as he recalled 'A Fall of Moondust' by Isaac Asimov, a book I read in high school, that had captured my imagination at the time.
Reflecting upon my presence on the train as a solo woman traveller, the Marseillais said: "You must be brave to travel around the country by yourself." Pleased to be appreciated for my globetrotting ways, I nevertheless started to downplay the compliment by saying it wasn't my first time in France as a solo woman traveller. This was when another passenger slid into view, asking him for help. Locating her seat took about ten minutes, after which my time on the train was up, and while a part of me wanted to discover what Arles held in store, another part wished I could have stayed in the conversation a little longer. I bid my travel companion farewell, and made my way through the aisle.
As far as transient encounters go, I was pleased to have connected with a local. One of many (internal) migrants navigating the Provencal port city's lifestyle, he was mercurial, sophisticated and savvy. I may not be enraptured enough with France's Second City to move there, but I can see how it would draw people in, and this means I am keen to learn more about Marseillais creativity. Here's hoping it will make an appearance in my future, soon.
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