Shall it be Montpelier or Nice or Marseilles?

We awoke early in Barcelona, a theme of the trip to be sure, so that we could catch the early train to Nice. We took the metro to Barcelonetta Station, wheeling our bags and hefting our backpacks the whole way. Upon arrival at the station, we were able to more-or-less follow the directions I had obtained the day before to reach the Estation França which happened to be up at street level and a couple of blocks around the corner.

When I went up to the ticket counter, I found out that all the trains were full to Nice, but that we could possibly go to Montpelier. I thought, "What the heck... Montpelier is still France," so we bought tickets that far and waited to get on board.

The train was very relaxing after a week of bustling around Spain. Jeanette found some very tasty sandwiches for breakfast at a concessions stand and we settled in with some extra chocolate and fruit we had purchased the night before along Las Ramblas.

The scenery gradually changed as we approached the French border, growing more and more lush. We arrived at Montpelier at about 1:00 PM. We went to the ticket counter to attempt to purchase tickets to Nice. When I went up, I had heard the cashier speaking with the gentleman before me in English, but I decided to try my French for the first real time in about 12 years. After about 5 or 10 minutes of conversation, I realized that neither of us had switched to English! Thank you, Mrs. Horton!

We secured tickets to Marseilles, my alternate to Nice because I had read that it was very pretty, but it turned out that the trains to Nice were completely booked. In fact, she also told me that the trains from Marseilles to Bologna were completely sold out on Monday when we needed to get there! Hmmm.

With a couple of hours to kill and not much we could do about the train situation, we left the station to look for lunch an found a small bar that also hosted a hot sandwich shop and a pastry counter. How terrible!

Jeanette sat down at the counter looked like a deer in the headlights when the bartender asked her in French what she would like. I quickly ordered two red wines and asked if we could eat there. He informed me that I just had to go outside to the sandwich counter and get what I wanted. Jeanette just said 'Go for it,' so I went and bought her a cheese filled hot panini and myself a lamb pita that was served in a paper bag and covered with fries. Both sandwiches more than satisfied our hunger and convinced us that France could be a culinary delight.

After lunch, we bought some pastries -- beignets filled with creme and chocolate and a millefeuille (or Napoleon outside of La France) -- and proceeded to gently fight over them when we got back to the train station. They were delicious. I want more!

The next train was colorful and purple, but that didn't stop Jeanette from spilling wine on me! What can you do? We eventually arrived in Marseilles an hour or two before dusk and decided to check on the tickets to Bologna given our past experience. It turns out that they reserve different seats to be sold at different stations and we were able to get tickets for Monday with no problem. The great thing was that the whole cross Europe trip on the train only cost us about 150€ each.

We were able to easily find the way on the metro to the Vieux Port (Old Port), which turned out to be a beautiful harbor massed with about 10,000 communist marchers. The train station exit was right in the middle of the rally. I'm sure we're on some CIA photos somewhere now!

The port had a tourist office right near us, so we walked in and obtained some hotel info. We poked around and decided relatively quickly on the Hotel Tonic, which is right on the corner of the port. At 87€/night, it was less than pristine, but in a good location. It turned out later that had we walked in a street or two, we could have probably saved 30€/night, but sometimes it's better to get settled in and explore than to dicker over money.

We walked out to look for dinner and made our way several blocks deep into town in a fairly residential neighborhood. The city had a similar feel to the cavernous streets of Barcelona, but the buildings seemed slightly less imposing, the streets were more grid-like, and some of the colors on the buildings were a bit softer with a variety of blues and purples. Peering into a trendy home furnishings shop, I noticed some people shopping although night was coming on. I thought we could go in and ask them where we might eat. The ended up being very helpful, with the husband switching to English nearly immediately, perhaps to practice. He called a friend on his cell phone and the three, the husband, the wife, and the friend, chatted about where to send us. The wife (who had very nice hand writing) ended up drawing us a map nearly back to our hotel and the Rue Sainte where she said there were several good restaurants. I believe she pointed us to one in particular called L'Absynthe. They also told us that the local specialty is bouillabaisse, but alas, I did not end up trying in on that trip.

We thanked them very much and followed their directions back to Rue Sainte, just a couple streets back from the port. We walked by several restaurants, including L'Absynthe and couldn't decide if they were empty for lack of patrons or bad food. At about 7:45, we paused in front of a cute place called Chez Loo and were about to move on because it, too, was empty when a woman walking with her children said simply "C'est bon!" I responded "Vraiment?" and she smiled, nodded, and said "Oui" emphatically and moved on. Our choice was made.

Entering the restaurant, we were approached by a pleasant woman who asked what we would like? I asked her, in French, why the restaurant was empty and she said that all but two small tables were reserved! That sounded promising to us!

We sat down and began chatting with Valerie in both English and French. Her grandmother had been born in Washington, D.C. and she had spent a little time in the states, including an apparently memorable visit to San Francisco. (What visit to SF is not memorable?) She helped us choose a nice bottle of wine and a cheese plate for starters that was served with small, tasty rustic buns. I tried a sea bass millefeuille with a butter sauce. Jeanette ordered monk fish over rice, with an orange and vanilla sauce. Both dishes were subtly flavored with nice textures and pretty presentations. The leaves in the millefeuille were delicate, crispy pastry -- a nice blend with the light fish and the tasty sauce.

For dessert, we shared Le "fameux" fondant chocolat, a round brownie-like cake filled with warm, gooey chocolate, and topped with a small drop of merengue. The crispy merengue, spongy cake, and wet chocolate deserved the label "fameux."

Along the evening, the restaurant had indeed filled up with a mixture of middle-aged couples and first-date kids. We loved the food, enjoyed the conversation with Val, but eventually called it an evening.