#writingparty | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

life-in-techni-colour-blog1 · 6 years ago

Text

Marseille, August 2019

After the life-changing experience I had in Marseille in July, same year, my heart was craving to go back to that city and expand the universe of episodes I have lived. I had the feeling, well, I still do, that Marseille has become a kind of sanctuary for me.

Is it the Mediterranean sea? Is it that I love bathing at la Plage du Prado?

Is it the chance to stare at beautiful sunsets every evening?

Is it the fact, that Marseille is the city in France with the most of sunny days during the year?

Is it that the sun kisses my skin and I feel that it injects me with interminable cosmic energy?

Or is it the language? That language that I started learning as a teenager and somehow never managed to speak fluently.

Or the Mediterranean culture? Is it the fact, that still in Europe, the “way of living” is similar to that in my country?

Or even the fact that I find Marseille highly erotic? That people show their bodies in a self-confident manner, expressing sensuality and sultriness?

Is it the sexy local accent?

Is it the sun tanning that makes the locals look similar to ancient Greek heroes?

Is it that I love seeing so many cultures sharing the same physical space, so well-integrated and functioning altogether in a chaotic, but charming environment?

Is it that people are loud, emotional, and like gesticulating and using their hands whilst talking?

Or that families watch the sunset at the beach, whilst kiddos play around?

Or the music that is played at the city centre every evening?

Or a combination of all of them?

I feel home in this sanctuary. I belong. I feel alive. My heart beats fast.

I have lust for life.

I most accept that it took me some days to decide if I really wanted to go back “so soon”. I guess I was afraid that my previous experience was just too good, that my expectation would be difficult to be met.

It was all met, in new ways.

I arrived. I left the airplane. I picked up my baggage. I went out of the terminal station.

As soon as the warm humid breeze touched my skin, I screamed loudly: “I am back Marseille, I am back for good”. I thanked life, I thanked the universe.

On the way from the airport to the city, listening the music that the bus driver had on, a question came to my head: how many people are able to do what I was just doing? How many people in this world have the possibility to take a flight, book a hotel, and just escape to their sanctuary?

Does everyone has a sanctuary? Is a sanctuary necessary at all?

How many people can decide where to go?

I felt blessed. And responsible.

I am free. I can decide. I have the means to chose and to execute.

How many people cannot do that? Can’t they, or they simply do not want to?

What to do with this blessing? Enjoy it on my own?

Or is there any way in which I could share it with the world? If so, how?

Besides being in my sanctuary, Marseille gives me new life lessons, some of them have become one-in-a-lifetime experiences.

And this second visit was not an exception.

Firstly. I had my first “date in French”. A real date.

Greg (Grégory, his fullname) had beautiful green eyes. His lips were thin and suggestive.

He had the characteristic sun tanning of a real Marseillais. He was indeed a local guy, born and raised in Marseille, with that wicked local accent.

The date was planned rather sporadically.

It was a Sunday, as I was on my way to the beach. La Plage du Prado is a rather common spot to go on a Sunday for bathing. Not the best beach in the city, nor my recommendation, but quite convenient as it is easily reached and you have all required amenities.

He called me. I did not pick up as I was on the bus. Well, that was the excuse. In reality, I was not picking any of his calls because I was terrified of speaking in French with him. I had the idea that my French would not be good enough for a conversation, and even worse, that I would make that noticeable to the other passengers on the bus.

Yes, even now that I am more awaken, such banalities and lack of confidence-moments appear in my life. Not so often anymore, but still present from time to time…

I knew that it would not bring me much to keep postponing the call, and based on the fact that I really wanted to get to know him, I called him back once I reached my destination.

I told him where I was and that I was planning to spend some at the beach and he offered himself to come over for few hours.

I accepted.

I felt so happy at the moment.

Opposite to what you might be thinking, I was not happy because I was about to meet a very good looking guy, but because I was brave enough to overcome my fear of speaking more than a couple of sentences in French. It was such a rewarding feeling.

After about one hour, he arrived with a bunch of things for a proper picnic.

He was, as already mentioned, charming. We talked about himself, myself, my interest for Marseille and my plans to visit more regularly the city.

We spend about three hours together and he needed to leave.

Regrettably, there was not a kind of funk between us, so we lost contact after that picnic.

What was the learning out of this experience?

Well, I made myself vulnerable, accepting that my French might not be fluent and error-free, and as a reward I had a picnic next to Mediterranean see. Me! Alejandro! That guy who many times felt not good enough.

Isn’t life a beautiful box of surprises, once you give it a try?

The second new learning that I had during that week involves a sex-shop.

The reasoning for me visiting the sex-shop is not relevant and therefore, not to be disclosed.

What I can tell you, in case you, yourself, have never entered to one: there is nothing special about them. I even fooled around with the employee who supported with my purchasing, who made some recommendations as well.

To be really honest, I was not afraid of the sex shop itself.

I was terrified of “what people would think of me” when entering and when leaving the shop. As this shop is located on a major avenue of the city, and I went there around 18 hrs on a regular working day, you can imagine that the probability of people seeing someone entering or leaving the shop was rather high.

Learning? A very basic one. No ones gives a fuck about what I do. If I enter or leave or stay for decades in a shop.

As I went it, I came out. No one really cared about it.

Isn’t is crazy all the ideas that I still have in my head? Terrified for what people would say?!

They did not even know me. They will probably not see me again. And I was still terrified.

Alejandro: so much for you still to learn.

Now we get a bit more serious.

Third learning during that week: I am blessed.

So, on the second weekend in Marseille, before departing back to Frankfurt, I decided to spend one day in the natural park Les Calanques. Go to your favourite web browser now and type “Les Calanques”. You will be stunned by the beautiful sceneries of this park.

Calanques are narrow inlets that are developed in limestone that are found along the Mediterranean coast. Because of fluvial erosion, these Calanques take the shape of valleys, which converge mostly into the sea. You will see some pictures attached to this post.

What do I like from them the most? The contrast between their colour and the intense blue of the sea.

So that Saturday morning I took the bus and arrive to one (very) small town called Les Goudes. Even if Les Goudes is a picturesque and cosy place, I saw most of it in less than one hour. As it was barely midday, I decided to walk on the coast with direction to the Calanques.

After few minutes I knew that I had made a very good decision.

My eyes saw a perfect colour-balance between beige and blue: on one site the massive Calanques in their beautiful beige colour and just next to it, a green-blue sea. Both fighting for physical space, and at the same time, embracing together in a perfect synergy.

I kept walking. As the time was passing by, more and more people were arriving. All of them astonished by the beautiful scenery. All of us making pictures, which will never be able to replace reality.

Even if I look at those pictures now, they cannot equal the still vivid images in my head.

Because it is not only about the colours, but the sound of wind (le mistral), the environmental humidity, the sun, the heat…

I spent quite some time making pictures and walking along the rocky coastline, until I felt hungry.

I was lucky that I had food in my bag, same that I bought that same morning in the only store I found in Les Goudes. Amongst those articles: a slice of pizza (I will elaborate more about my experience with pizza in Marseille in upcoming posts), a bottle of water, a bottle of orange juice and some cookies (Navettes à l’anis) that I still had in my bag.

I started looking for a place where to seat down and eat calmly. That was apparently not possible at the coastline, as it was already full with tourists (I do not consider myself a tourist in Marseille anymore) and families eating already (that just made me think of Greg and our picnic).

My eyes went then to the mountains themselves. Almost everyone was on the coast, but few were climbing to the mountains. I spotted at least three places that were perfect to seat down and have some lunch. So I decided to move there.

After few minutes I was about 300m above the sea level and from there, I had a beautiful scenery in front of my eyes. I could even see part of the city (Marseille).

I ate. Not only the food and beverages were feeding my body, but my soul was at the same time catered by what I was just discerning.

I felt a funk of happiness moving through my body. Was it the very first time that I had a love-attack? Yes, they exist, just as the panic-attacks do.

I ate, I observed, I felt happy.

When I finished, I decided to move further to the mountains. I sang, I spoke to myself, I made pictures.

After about 30 minutes walking to the top of the mountain, I found a valley, around 800m above level sea, I guess. Maybe a bit more.

From that valley I could see other Calanque in front of me, few houses at its bottom, gently placed next to the green-blue sea. Behind me only rocks and Les Goudes still in sight, although from the distance, the houses look pretty tiny.

To my right the blue sea. To my left three massive mountains.

I though of researching for their name whilst writing these lines, but I consider their names quite irrelevant, so no naming them for now.

In the background, I could hear the Cigales. The sound came from all directions. Even if the wind was strong and loud enough, that characteristic sound from the Cigales was louder.

So, I was there, on a Saturday afternoon, standing in front of three massive mountains. I looked at them, whilst listening to the Cigales.

My whole life cross my head as movie whilst standing there. That movie last at least 10 minutes. In that time I just stared at those three peeks.

I though of my way up. I though of everyone who helped me reaching the very best of me. I thought of the sacrifices my family made, especially my mom. I thought that she would have been astound as well, in case she would have got the chance to see those mountains herself.

She rarely left our town. She never left our country. She was never on the sea. She never got to walk barefoot on the sand.

I thought of my brother. Of the time we spent together as kids and the time we did not spent, as I left Mexico.

What would have happened if I have stayed in Mexico?

Would I have spent more time with him?

Would we love each other more just by being closer physically?

I thought of the friends that have shared the road with me. I thought of those that have been years with me, and those who appeared and disappeared because their mission in my life was over.

I thought of my dreams as a kid, as a teenager.

Of the man I have become.

I thought of Gustavo. I thought of Mark. I though of the people I have unintentionally hurt on my way up.

Moreover, I though of how blessed I am.

Blessed because of what the life has given me, sometimes even without requesting for it.

I cried tears of joy.

The fourth learning of that week is related to music.

By mere coincidence, I downloaded the latest album of the French singer Zazie. The album is called Essenciel and I can just recommend it to you. One of the few albums that I can hear from the very first track until the last one.

The first song of the album is called <Speed>. This song verbalises some of the characteristics of our contemporary society: a) living to work, b) spending our life in the own cages we have created for our ourselves, c) waiting for the day to end, imagining of a better future and pursuing happiness based on accomplishments, d) thinking that we are “too old” to do certain things, e) living in automatic mode…

Listen it for yourself and let the magic happens.

This song gives me hope.

It gives me hope that I am not the only one awakening.

It makes me feel energised and pushes me towards my complete realisation.

The song of my summer – so far.

Allez hop!

2 notes · View notes