Friday, February 18, 2011
The train to Marseille was pretty deserted
The best thing is the breakfast, he said. "C'est copieux, c'est bon et c'est beaucoup moins cher que ce qu'on vend dans les gares." He was a nice guy and took a real pride in his job - describing the orange juice fully and telling me even what country the fair-trade hot chocolate came from. I didn't really care that much, sadly, and promptly forgot. It was good though.
We hurtled through the scraggiest parts of Toulouse (la ville rose = dirty old red brick) and then through the gorgeous Languedoc with it's scrubby landscape and scary dark, sudden hills. I strained to see Carcassonne but I was probably asleep when we passed it. It's always exciting to see the Mediterranean and my first sight of Marseille was pretty amazing, too. It's VERY BIG.