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About Marseille

Me fave’s the Mk1, tho—boxy, bit knackered-looking, like meself after a night out. Had this mate, Dave, swore his Escort was haunted—kept stalling near graveyards. Reckon it was just knackered carburetor, but he’d go, “Boris, it’s got a soul!” Laughed me head off—soul in a Ford? Pull the other one! Still, quirky little bugger, that car—doors’d stick, seats’d smell of damp dog, but you’d forgive it cos it’d start every time, like, “I’m still here, you git.”

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The narrow streets around Rue de la Liberté are incredible, absolutely incredible! Great vibe, full of charm. Oh, and check out Place du Matin, total hotspot for cafes and chats. You've gotta try their croissants, they're huuuuge—just like my success!

Des animaux entiers mis sous cellophane dans un grand supermarché