After an overnight flight to London, four hours getting lost at Heathrow, a delayed trip to Marseille and a nearly missed late-night ride share, I have arrived in Aix-en-Provence.
Travel lowlight: A rude long haul, premium economy seat partner who immediately took off his shoes and stuck his bare foot in my space.
Travel highlight: Successfully communicating en francais (partially and tres rudimentary!) with three people while trying to navigate Marseille to Aix.
I slept fitfully, drank a cafe on my balcony overlooking the garden, enjoyed breakfast in the lobby and then set out for a stroll.
At 9 a.m. Aix is just beginning to awaken. Delivery drivers share narrow streets with pedestrians pulling their carts to the city’s many open air markets. On the Cours Mirabeau — a major street lined with clothing, jewelry, soap and tablecloth stalls — it seems everything costs 10 euros. Why did I worry about what to pack?
A demain!
