marseille card from side

WHOOOOSH! As we detrained in Marseille, we were almost swept off our feet by a piercingly cold, dusty, savage wind that howled out of Siberia, across the Alps, along the Rhone Valley and down our necks.Boxes, barrels, crates, garage, and newspapers sailed through the air and banged up against houses. The incessant wind tore away roof tiles, blew down chimneys, and ripped shutters off their hinges. The sea in the Old Port was sloshing and foaming, as hundred-foot-high walls of spume writhed across the harbor.”

Thus spake spake Julia of the infamous Mistral, the evil frigid wind of Provence which, believe me, is truly fierce, especially as it catches you off guard in mid-summer!

So our little 3×5 card is a whirlwind of foil, blue and silver, with a surging ocean, port and pitted townscape. Abstract, yes, and hard to decipher but as Julia says: “This was our first true mistral, the notorious windstorm, and it was so exhilarating it was hard to think straight. It was as if we were under bombardment.”

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