A casual castle hangout in Marseille

As a backpacker, I felt part of a family of sorts: a peripatetic family. I would meet someone in one city and then run into them in another. We were all hopscotching along, making our own route, but sometimes our squares would overlap.

International Youth hostels provided a common space to meet other travellers, or have surprise repeat encounters. Our first youth hostel was a castle, the 19th century Chateau du Bois-Luzy in Marseille. The three storey stone building was at the top of a hill, a large picnic area offered great city views and the grand foyer had ornately patterned marble floor.

At the hostel, we met Phil, an American who just landed in Marseille and was hoping to find a job to stay a while. There was another Canadian, Caren, who could not believe she was nearing the end of her journey having travelled for months in China and Northern Europe. And a Hungarian, Tom, who had lived through the revolution. History books are no substitute for talking to someone who lived through the transition from communism, with such pride in his country declaring he would never live anywhere else.

As for the city sites, we visited the Basilique Notre Dame, the pebbly beach and the Vieux Port according to my journal.

Did I mention the hostel was in a castle?

Of all the sites, this left the greatest impression on me.

Even more than the setting itself, I marvelled at how you can talk to people from around the world in these settings. These comfortable “family” gatherings would repeat themselves, but the castle in Marseille was my first. I even wrote in my journal I was a little sad to leave. But I suppose we would all be heading our own ways, if not today, then soon.

And besides, the goodbye may not be for long. Our wandering paths might cross again.

This is one entry from my 1992 European backpacking trip with my friend Sarah. If you want to start at the beginning, please check out The journey starts in Nice.