We are sitting having complimentary breakfast on the roofdeck of the Sofitel overlooking the Vieux Porte de Marseille and bitching.
The sun glints off the morning swells and the aluminum masts of the sailboats, which bob like a vast paddling of sleeping ducks along the quay. Below us lies the Palais de Pharo, and, just across the narrow harbor mouth, Fort St. Jean, past which a ferry is lazily steaming out to the Chateau d’If, the island prison from “The Count of Monte Cristo.”
New York Times
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