Marseille has always had a reputation.
Depending
on who you ask, it’s gritty, chaotic, edgy, fascinating, dangerous,
vibrant, authentic—or all of those things at once. It is a city that
seems to divide opinion like few others in France.
After
spending a day rediscovering Marseille last week, I found myself
wondering whether much of its reputation is simply decades out of date.
It
had been several years since my last visit. I travelled there last week
on a work trip with a friend, expecting to enjoy the city as I always
had, but I wasn’t expecting to be genuinely surprised by just how much
it has evolved.
As a gay man from Canada who has spent much of his life in the
Cote d’Azur, I’m often conscious of how welcoming a destination feels. Marseille
has long had a visible LGBTQ+ community, and while every large city has
areas where common sense should always prevail, I once again found the
city to feel open, diverse and refreshingly comfortable to explore.
From the moment we arrived, Marseille reminded me why it has captivated visitors for over 2,600 years.
Founded around 600 BC by Greek sailors from Phocaea in
present-day Türkiye, Marseille—then known as Massalia—is considered the
oldest city in France. Long before Paris became the political heart of
the country, Marseille was already one of the Mediterranean’s great
trading ports, welcoming merchants, explorers and immigrants from every
corner of Europe, North Africa and the Middle East. That remarkable
diversity remains one of the city’s defining characteristics today and
has helped shape a city where different cultures, religions and
communities have lived side by side for centuries.
Walking through the streets between meetings, I couldn’t help but notice the energy everywhere.
Marseille has the grandeur and architectural confidence of Paris
in many places, but with something the French capital can never offer:
the constant presence of the Mediterranean. The salty sea breeze follows
you through the streets, reminding you that this city has always looked
outward to the world.
Most of our time was spent around the famous Vieux-Port, where
fishing boats still sit alongside luxury yachts and bustling cafés.
We wandered through the revitalized waterfront, explored the
cruise terminal district, admired the impressive redevelopment around
Les Docks, and of course made time to visit the spectacular Mucem—one of
France’s most striking museums.
Opened in 2013 when Marseille was named European Capital of
Culture, the Mucem transformed part of the city’s waterfront and helped
signal a new chapter in Marseille’s story.
While my friend attended a meeting, I decided to head north of
the port into neighbourhoods that some visitors might hesitate to
explore.
I’ve always believed that the true character of a city reveals itself away from the postcard views.
Rather than finding an intimidating environment, I found lively
streets filled with local businesses, families chatting outside cafés,
neighbourhood markets and a genuine sense of community. It felt
authentic rather than manufactured.
Years ago, some
of Marseille’s best nightlife—including several LGBTQ+-friendly
venues—could be found in these parts of the city, and I remember many
unforgettable evenings discovering places that rarely appeared in
guidebooks. Returning brought back those memories while also showing how
much the surrounding neighbourhoods have continued to change.
Once we reunited, we spent the rest of the day covering as much ground as possible.
By the end of the day we had walked more than 30,000 steps, and honestly, I could have kept going.
Every neighbourhood seemed to offer something different.
Historic churches stood beside bold contemporary architecture. Narrow
streets opened onto grand boulevards. Traditional Provençal cafés shared
the sidewalks with restaurants serving cuisine influenced by
generations of immigration from Italy, Armenia, Algeria, Tunisia,
Lebanon and beyond. Few cities in Europe wear their multicultural
identity as proudly as Marseille.
That diversity is also reflected in its LGBTQ+
community. While Marseille has never tried to market itself in quite
the same way as nearby Nice, it has a long-established gay scene,
welcoming bars, community organizations and annual Pride celebrations.
It feels less like a destination built for tourists and more like a city
where LGBTQ+ life is simply part of the everyday fabric. And I must add
that the people are beautiful and confident in who they are and their
style. They were nothing less than inspiring. Shopping was another pleasant surprise.
It seemed that every street revealed another collection of
boutiques, independent retailers, markets or major brands. Whether
you’re searching for luxury fashion, local artisan products, antiques,
books or everyday essentials, Marseille appears to have it all.
One of the biggest changes I noticed, however, was simply how much cleaner the city felt.
Marseille hasn’t lost its urban edge, nor should it. Street
art, colourful murals and layers of graffiti remain part of its visual
identity, reflecting decades of artistic expression and social history.
But overall, many areas felt noticeably better maintained than I
remembered. Public spaces looked refreshed, infrastructure had improved,
and the city projected a renewed sense of confidence.
Even driving felt easier than expected.
Despite
visiting during the height of the summer tourist season, traffic flowed
remarkably well. We had anticipated long delays but encountered only a
few minutes of congestion leaving during rush hour.
The local tourism
office also deserves recognition. Visitor information stands throughout
the city were busy helping travellers navigate attractions,
transportation and events, creating a welcoming first impression for
newcomers.
Our meals were another reminder of why southern France is so beloved.
Breakfast
and lunch were both excellent, featuring fresh ingredients, generous
portions and attentive service. Prices felt reasonable for a major
French city, especially considering the quality. Marseille’s food scene
has always reflected its position as a Mediterranean crossroads, where
Provençal traditions blend naturally with flavours from across the sea.
Getting there from the French Riviera was surprisingly straightforward.
We
left Beaulieu-sur-Mer early in the morning and reached Marseille in
about two and a half hours by car. The drive itself is part of the
experience, with landscapes gradually transforming from lush green hills
to dramatic limestone cliffs and the pale white stone that defines
Provence around Marseille.
For those travelling by
train from Nice takes roughly three hours and is equally rewarding,
offering one of the most scenic railway journeys in France as the
Mediterranean coastline unfolds outside your window.
Perhaps what impressed me most wasn’t any single attraction.
It was the feeling.
Marseille
has a confidence that can’t be manufactured. It doesn’t try to be
polished in the same way as some other French cities. Instead, it
embraces its complexity, its diversity and its imperfections. That
authenticity is exactly what makes it so compelling.
As
LGBTQ+ travellers, we often find ourselves researching destinations
more carefully than many others. During this visit, we walked through
busy commercial districts, residential neighbourhoods, the waterfront
and areas that some people had warned us about. We met friendly locals,
enjoyed excellent service wherever we stopped, and throughout the day
never once felt uncomfortable because of who we were. That was our
experience, and it left a lasting impression.
Like
every major city, Marseille faces real challenges. No urban centre is
without them. Common travel awareness is always wise, just as it is in
Paris, London, Barcelona or Rome. But reducing France’s second-largest
city to outdated stereotypes does it a tremendous disservice.
Over
the course of an entire day spent almost entirely on foot through a
wide variety of neighbourhoods, we encountered welcoming people,
efficient public transportation, beautiful architecture, fascinating
history and a city that continues to reinvent itself while remaining
true to its roots.
Marseille isn’t a place you simply visit.
It’s a city you experience.
As we drove back toward the French Riviera that evening, one thing had become clear.
One day simply wasn’t enough.
The next visit won’t be for work.
It will be for an entire weekend, because Marseille still has countless stories waiting to be discovered.
And
for LGBTQ+ travellers looking beyond the obvious destinations,
Marseille may well become one of France’s most rewarding surprises.
