Railway station

The day of the protests against the government raising the age for retirement. The city was momentarily held captive to thousands of revelers carrying banners, balloons, flags, loud sound systems and generally having what appeared to be a very good time in the streets of Marseille. I am told that the right to strike and to protest is deeply embedded in the hearts of the french psyche, today certainly felt like that as we approached the city flanked by protesters and police barricades.

These guys had the added effect of smoke thanks to a fireman in their midst carrying distress flares. A street like this one (Avenue de la Republique) is normally a battleground of cars and trucks, so the march was as much a reclaiming of the pedestrian city and a reminder that the machines that facilitate us also control and restrict us.

Finally arriving up on the hill of the railway station then, was a beautiful unrestricted view given a surreal edge by the absence of striking workers. The giant steps overlooking the city, nestled into this big dry valley, were largely my own, shared only with a few tourists and a small possie of local young guys ready to exchange illicit substances for cash.

The areas surrounding railway stations have a special kind of energy, highly charged and uncertain of ownership. It's not only that there are so many people pass through these spaces (since you could say the same of a commercial mall or street) it's the way they connect with the rest of the city. A railway station connects like a major artery to other transient spaces, so it becomes defined by passing through it rather than the place itself. How many alleyways or closed alcoves have I visited recently that carry the pungent aroma of urine? They are marked by the people who pass through them as belonging to nobody, assuring that they are never a destination but rather a place to get through as fast as you can.

The Marseille central station has a peculiarity though in that it has this beautiful view, in any other situation it would mark a place to sit and reflect, or to locate a significant monument. In fact there are two large statues either side of these steps that I am told (retrospectively) represent the colonies of France and their productive abundance (interesting I guess that this is where you can go to buy drugs from jumpy looking guys with flashy tracksuits).

You can just see one of the statues here on the right.

The first time I came to europe as a 20year old in the late 1980s, almost every railway station felt very intimidating. Perhaps it was accentuated by being a bit naive, but I would always rush through a railway station, pack on my back, as fast as I could. They have almost all changed now through the encroachment of commerce, it's hard to find a railway station anymore without a Macdonalds or several bookstores and a mobile phone shop. They have brought with them a sense of purpose and certainty of action. But they have also brought security guards, cleaners and and a sharp definition between what is private and public space.

The late afternoon sun brought with it some office workers on their way home or at least on their way to being on their way home. Here's someone I had a great chat to, we shared conversation and perspectives on the places around us, she'd spent all day staring at a computer screen so there was a sudden shift of focus to be lying on the ground. So many of us (me included of course) spend so much of our time transmitting information to or from the computer screen, it's a welcome change to be altered by scale for a moment, to put your hand, your face or your eyes through the screen and discover what is on the other side.

And this is Lena, she rolled around, she drew pictures, she chatted, she showed off her dance moves. I enjoyed her company. This picture was taken just before she threw her chin onto the hard ground and was rewarded with a sore-looking red graze.

A day of overviews. The tree lined boulevards of Marseille at my doorstep. The fine things are right here.

Aubagne

Aubagne (about 30km from Marseille) is surrounded by heaving rock faces. The streets of the old town are like mountain tracks walled by houses and shops, there is a familiarity to the place, perhaps like something out of a cartoon version of a medieval city. Somewhere in the centre of town, it flattens out again and there is a square (more like a triangle) cluttered with cafe tables, awnings, advertising signs and plant boxes. In amongst there somewhere is me, in a small house, catching the attention of passers by.

The weekend was wet and the wind whipping autumn leaves around like confetti so I consider my Aubagne visitors to be the most hard core in town.

The weather seemed to induce an arts and craft vibe as it turned out and more than a few pictures came my way. Pictured below are two sisters who made sure I wouldn't forget Aubagne, they are just two of four sisters and a brother who all stopped by and it was really interesting how each of them had a different view on the town they lived in. It made me realise how as kids we are so close with our siblings even when fundamentally we may be very different people. As adults we are more selective about spending time with friends who are more aligned with our own values. Later this same evening I went into Marseille to see a performance at a place called Montevideo, a really great venue but especially good because I felt a comfort in finding a scene that was close to my own values. As a kid you're not able to jump in a car and find your own cultural group.

These two wore the same clothes and spent a lot of time together but in other ways they are miles apart, yet they were so good with one another in the way they listened and challenged one another.

There are all sorts of ways of seeing, you just have to alter your perspective a little.

And finally here are some of the best pictures of the day, only one from Romeo who proliferated a true deluge of images on every scientific and poetic subject possible (pictured below is a butterfly) but especially good at writing his name in CAPITALS. I would not be at all surprised if he will develop a special talent for large scale painting on public walls and fences.