Crossing the Dotted Line

Yeah we crossed the national boundaries into France. Immediately the bread got better the yogurt more fruity, and we had more choices in cheese, While it is wonderful to be back in France, I already miss not being understood. Everyone is very helpful and most people speak English “juzt ah little”. The winds were still pretty strong and we got some perfect days of sailing in with strong winds that pushed our sailboat faster than if we were under motor. We went back to Cap d’ Agde, stayed on the islands right across from Marseille at Isle du Frioul for a couple of days before sailing into Marseille. I always love the port in Marseille. It is a huge rectangle that the heart of the city beats around its stone quay. Large iron rings have been anchored into the solid stone moorings that have been tying up ships since the clippers ruled the seas. I can feel centuries pass before me of a time where ships brought cargo from around the world to this center of commerce. You can almost hear the creak of the old wooden ships and the sailors spending their satchels of money from being out to sea for months on end. Times have changed and now a couple of upscale yacht clubs manage the port finding spots for travelers stepping off their mega yachts equipped with every imaginable convenience. Most of the buildings surrounding the harbor are relatively new due to the hard bombing the city took first by the Germans to capture the city and then the Allied forces to liberate it during World War II. In between the newer structures you will see a matron building that has seen centuries come and go.