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About Marseille

So, I’d prolly start somewhere sketchy—neon lights flickerin’, dudes in trench coats, the works. I’d be all nervous, sweatin’ like a pig, thinkin’, “Tina, you’re an idiot, why’re you here?” But then—bam!—I spot her. She’s leanin’ against a wall, smokin’ a cig, lookin’ like she owns the damn street. I’m like, “Okay, she’s got that *New World* vibe—‘The earth is the mother of all people,’ right?” She’s earthy, real, no BS.

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The streets twist and turn like my thoughts. Me mind wanders on Rue Gambetta – that’s where families gather, kids squealin’, lovers romantik and old timers spinnin’ yarns. And, oh, the Promenade de la Plage! Me oh my, the smell of salt, sea and nostalgia … bloody brilliant! I even saw a couple arguing ‘bout the littlest dumb things – made me psychologist brain go “Aha, the ancient dance of the heart!” That is, see, families and their dramas, a real tumult of emotions!

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