Cliffs, waters, jumps!

This thing called nature is beautiful. Next time, I’ll bring a diving mask, but I need to come in the morning when there are schools of fish.

These schools of fish are brilliant! I think they are dancing or I don’t even know what their motivation might be. They circulate within a relatively small radius. The German group swimming in the water doesn’t even see them, only I do, from above, from the hammock stretched between the two trees. This is already the second spot where I’ve hung the hammock at nine o’clock; otherwise, the cove is almost deserted. The first spot was the mountaintop just a ten-minute climb above us; I spent the night there, hidden by bushes, but I had breakfast on the big-top rock, which could boldly be called a panoramic terrace.

It was supposed to rain a little and the morning was going to be heavily overcast. (It’s twenty-eight degrees at dawn, so a little rain is not a cold, but a refreshing shower.) That’s why I slept in a raincoat, unnecessarily.

The sparsely cloudy morning sky is even more beautiful than the dazzling summer sun. The white patches give such depth to the blue sky as some painters dream of throughout their lives.

So, at nine o’clock, I observe the second school of fish, who play by jumping out of the water together, then I go and jump in among them.

Why is it called Pine Cove? Because pine trees root among the limestone. Cove? Deep enough for only nature to reach. This is one of the most beautiful beaches in Cassis.

The good thing about the morning was that no one disturbed the fish – or me. I also encountered a group of purple-colored fish resembling wrasses, and many other fish; some even bumped into my legs.

Around eleven, people started to arrive, including those eight-year-old boys who quickly found spots where they could jump from five meters. Because just jumping in is not safe from everywhere, as the rocky, stony coastline continues underwater, so it’s easy to get stuck on an underwater rock from meters away. So the boys set the challenge; after which I did two things until three in the afternoon: the other was dozing in the fresh air.

At three, I had to start heading back because the public transport journey is long. So it’s no wonder that I rested twice for twenty minutes on the way back. During the second break, I decide to time it: I’ll take the last bus to Marseille, where I’ll catch the last train.

In the harbor of Cassis, I first took a long walk. Just because it feels great to stroll around on a romantic postcard.

Seeing the prices, I decided to get my snack at the Spar supermarket instead. It’s some kind of Caesar salad – consumed on the bench above the central beach.

I thought about trying out this small pebble, slowly deepening (family-friendly) beach as well, but the jumps in Pine Cove raised my excitement level, so a normal beach doesn’t excite me now. And I was already tired.

After the snack, another walk, during which I got another cookbook and didn’t get a coffee tray (because they didn’t accept cards), I had ice cream, then found the bus stop – along with another fifty people. Luckily, I got on at the terminal, because three stops later, the bus couldn’t take on any more passengers.

At eight in the evening, at the train station, I realize that I’m hungry and won’t find food later anywhere. There’s no cheap option here. If it’s expensive, at least let it be delicious! Here they make divine avocado burgers, with lattice fries, fresh orange juice; all for eighteen euros.

The train leaves in forty minutes, at Saint Martin Crau station – I hope – I’ll pick up the scooter and it hasn’t been stolen. Maybe by midnight, I’ll get to bed – alone.

Cassis, Marseille, 2024. 09. 02, Monday.