By Erik Skye

15 Jul 2011

Mots du jour: rue (street), savon (soap), forte (strong)

Went running through Marseille. Made it to white rocky outcrops that surround the city. Attempted to climb a summit. Realized that if I fell, I was in as sorry a shape as if I were in remote Alaska. I’d die and rot where I lay. Nobody would find me either. Decided not to risk it. Left with only 50 vertical feet to go. Too much to lose.

I walked with Dalia through a quiet part of Marseille called The Panier. The streets were narrow, the crowds missing. Shops sold quality products, like Savons de Marseille. They film a well-loved French TV show here. It’s clean and quaint. We walked along The Vieux Port too. It’s different by day. More interesting. There’s a vibe. The place is alive.

Off to catch a train to Bordeaux. It’s time to see Dimitri.

Thanks for everything Dalia. See you again soon. 

Its midnight, and car 14 of Train 4766 is empty, except for me. I’m being rocked back and forth, but stare at nothing instead of sleeping. Sometimes the lights go out and then come back on; like in a movie. I just think, and listen, and rock. This is my time now.

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