Marseille's moment: France's 'ugly duckling' city has become a Mediterranean swan

Stand at the top of the steps that cascade down from the doors of Notre Dame de la Garde, and you will notice that the view is splendid in all directions.
Above, the grand gold statue of the Virgin and Child that adorns what is one of France’s greatest basilicas shines in the sunlight. Behind, the entrance to the church reveals a chapel of lavish decoration, where the faithful pause to pray. And ahead, the Mediterranean gleams as it ebbs to the horizon.
But it is the view of what is below that most intrigues me. Gazing down the hill, I can see the city laid out in microcosm: a tapestry of houses; a patch of beach; the Vieux Port, where tall yachts rest their sails; a crowd of people strolling alongside this wide harbour.

Glowing reputation: Marseille¿s old port shines out against the backdrop of the city¿s splendid cathedral

It does not, in any sense, look like an ugly duckling. But that – in terms of French cities – is the reputation that Marseille ‘enjoys’. It is the maritime workhorse labouring on the leisurely sands of the Gallic south coast amid the dancing queens of Cannes, Nice and Saint-Tropez. It is France’s third largest metropolis and its second most populous; the sizeable capital of the Provence-Alpes-Côte d’Azur region. And yet it is rarely considered an equal of Paris or gastronomic Lyon.

 

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But 2013 is Marseille’s moment to alter perceptions – as one of the European Capitals of Culture. For once, this unfussy port is donning colourful attire.
In June, the Musee des Civilisations de l’Europe et de la Mediterranée (MuCEM) – a major new institution that will chart the historic flow of humanity along this coveted stretch of shore – will open, built into Fort Saint-Jean, the city’s 17th century guardian.

Height of style: A worker walks on the roof of the Museum of Civilizations from Europe and the Mediterranean (MuCEM)

It will join the Musee Regards de Provence, which launched in March, as another dish for the 2013 banquet – a gallery of Provencal art that displays the region’s fabled landscape through artists such as Paul Guigou and Auguste Chabaud.
Marseille is changing. That much is clear when I climb another of its hills into the port-side district of Le Panier. Halfway up, the Hotel Dieu is a sign of the times. A colossal 18th century hospital, and an oddly stately structure that once catered to the city’s medical needs, it opens later this month as a five-star InterContinental hotel, complete with spa, cocktail bar and pool.
I do not have to look hard to find the older version of Marseille. Though now increasingly gentrified, Le Panier was the 18th century city’s most deprived quarter. This fading association is still visible in the tight maze of streets, homes piled on top of each other.
At the district’s heart is the Centre de la Vieille Charite – a glorious three-tiered stone complex, with a lovely courtyard chapel, that began life as a 17th century poorhouse. Now it stages temporary art exhibitions, a potent symbol of a city that has endured difficult times, yet can still surprise you with flashes of beauty.

But then, Marseille’s capacity to surprise is deep-rooted. Few people know that it is France’s oldest city, founded around 600BC by Greek settlers, who gave it the name ‘Massalia’ (this ancient birth-tale is told at the Musee d’Histoire de Marseille).
It is also arguably France’s most diverse city, its character shaped by centuries of immigration from North Africa. When I stroll through the Noailles district, east of the Vieux Port, I am half convinced I have drifted into Tangier or Tunis. The shops on Rue d’Aubagne vibrate with the sounds and smells of the souk; dried fruits, dates and spices stacked high on the cluttered shelves.
Then there is Marseille’s notorious rebellious streak. Fort Saint-Jean, completed in 1660, was originally built not to protect the port, but so that Louis XIV could train his cannons on its mutinous citizens. It is entirely appropriate that France’s national anthem – a ditty composed amid the rabble-rousing fervour of the French Revolution – should be called ‘La Marseillaise’, because it was so lustily adopted by residents of a place that never much cared for the king. I discover more on this at the Memorial de la Marseillaise museum.

Island exile: The prison of Chateau D'If is Marseilles' Alcatraz

But this is not to say that Marseille is anything but fabulously French, and ideal for a weekend away. Notre Dame de la Garde is a more photogenic church than its near-namesake in Paris, and the Cathedrale de Sainte-Marie-Majeure – almost overlooked on the quayside – is just as striking. You can find enticing shops on every corner – Place Aux Huiles in Le Panier specialises in Provencal olive oils; Savonnerie Marseillaise de la Licorne, on the harbour, is where to find perfumed soaps.
There are tempting local restaurants dotted on Place Notre Dame du Mont, and upmarket options on the lip of the Vieux Port. When I grab an outdoor seat at iconic eatery Le Miramar, I sample a bowl of the city’s culinary signature, the thick fish stew bouillabaisse – as the sun falls beyond the tethered sail-boats.
It is a lovely snapshot of the city. The next morning takes me on a 15-minute ferry ride, out through the marina, to the dark outpost of Chateau D’If, in the bay. Here is Marseille’s Alcatraz, a former fortress and jail where political prisoners were held between the 17th and 19th centuries. Alexandre Dumas had his fictional protagonist incarcerated here in The Count Of Monte Cristo.
From the battlements, the noise of everyday existence in the streets is audible, but the city is tantalising out of reach – torture for anyone locked in the cells. Re-boarding the ferry, I am almost relieved to return safely to a place that has become 2013’s rebel with a cause.