Now that we moved to the south of France

Now that we moved to the south of France, our nearest big city is Marseille, which is the oldest city in the country. Marseille does not have a good reputation in France. In fact, when we told friends in Paris we were moving here, the universal response was, "Euh, why?" But that's because Parisians are bougie as hell. This neighborhood is called Cours Julien and it's known for its street art. It's giving East LA, it's giving Portland. We're on the hunt for something we cannot get in our small town, which is iced coffee. God bless these French hipsters and their brunch. No matter where you go in France, the main pastime is people watching, and for me that means people sketching. I didn't really get a before, and here's me trying to paint through my camera lens, but I love how this page turned out. You can see the woman with the colorful scarf right there. I always found the fashion in Paris a little bit boring, so shopping in Marseille is way more my speed. I mean, look at this sloth jumper. But considering that I got laid off from my job last week, it's gonna be window shopping only for me for a while. We wandered over to an art gallery slash English language bookstore. The selection was limited, but I like the organizational system. There's a strong sense of community pride in Marseille. The Marseillais are warm and weird. "Ça c'est Marseille bébé," they'll tell you with a shrug. Still looking for beach reads, we stopped in Les Arcenaulx, a really cool bookstore that has this sign that I love that says, "Marseillaises who read are dangerous." They've got shelves and shelves of vintage books and even some in English. I picked up a copy of Romance in Marseille by Claude McKay, a Harlem Renaissance book so transgressive it wasn't published until 2020. And Adam bought this big magazine about Marseillais street food. Satisfied with our purchases, we wandered over to the Old Port to get a whiff of that Mediterranean breeze and take a walk along the sea wall. August is a quiet month, since it's when most French people take vacations. Another thing we can't get in our small town is good beers, so we grabbed a couple pints and sat outside to enjoy the view of the basilica. They call it La Bonne Mère, or the Good Mother, and I thought it was the perfect thing to finish off my art journal page for the day. Parisians may be appalled that I moved to the south, but when I tell Marseillais people that I moved here from Paris, they say, "Bienvenue à Marseille bébé, you're never gonna want to leave."