Marseille’s Best Views? Only Available After 10,000 Steps
(7 minute read)
The Calanques near Marseille aren’t just postcard-worthy—they’re pilgrimage-worthy. But getting there? That’s where the real story begins.
Nestled along the rugged coastline of the Mediterranean, the Calanques near Marseille are an explorer’s dream and a photographer's paradise. Picture this: a series of limestone cliffs towering above crystalline waters, their jagged edges forming deep, narrow inlets that cut into the land like nature’s carefully carved sculptures. The natural beauty of these calanques (which means “inlets” in French) is both humbling and awe-inspiring. Yet, as any seasoned traveler will tell you, reaching the serene seclusion of these coastal gems is no easy feat.
If you think your GPS is going to do all the work, think again. The experience of navigating your way down to a calanque is as much about the journey as it is about the destination. And it’s a journey that’ll test your endurance, challenge your patience, and reward you with the kind of views that don’t need a camera to feel unforgettable. Here’s a glimpse of what that adventure might look like.
The Enigmatic Start: Finding the Trailhead
Unlike more popular destinations where the path is neatly marked, getting to the calanques requires a bit of a treasure hunt. You'll likely start your journey at one of the calanque access points, like Calanque de Sormiou, Calanque de Morgiou, or Calanque d’En-Vau. But don’t be fooled by the well-meaning maps or your confident “I’ve got this” attitude. The real adventure begins when you try to find the actual trailhead.
Before you even set off, though, make sure to check if access is open—especially during summer weekends or busy holidays. Some calanques, like Sormiou, require advance reservations to limit crowding and protect the fragile environment. It’s an easy thing to miss and an annoying way to get turned around before the hike even starts.
Your first mistake will probably be thinking, “I’ll just follow the road signs.” This, my friend, will take you on a scenic drive that, while lovely, may not get you any closer to your goal. You’ll find yourself driving along winding coastal roads, watching as the horizon morphs into endless sea and sky, but the further you go, the more it feels like you’re just circling the problem.
Pro tip: ask a local. No, not the café waiter who insists they know the way with an air of casual indifference, but the seasoned hiker or fisherman you might spot resting after a long day. They’re the ones who will point you toward the correct, often narrow, and unmarked trail that will take you to your destination. If you're lucky, you might even get a "bon courage" or a wink of encouragement.
The Steep Descent: A Stairway to (Slightly Sweaty) Heaven
Once you've found your way to the correct starting point, the real fun begins. The descent to a calanque is a physically demanding exercise. Forget any illusions you had about a pleasant stroll—this is a path designed by nature herself to test both your fitness and resolve.
The first thing you’ll notice is the change in terrain. From the solid, dry ground to the craggy rocks and loose gravel beneath your feet, it’s as if the earth itself is testing your ability to keep your footing. At times, you’ll be leaning into the hill with your hands to steady yourself, as though the mountain is playing a mischievous game of tag. The path undulates like a serpentine line, with no consistent rhythm. Some stretches are gentle, others steep enough to make you question your life choices.
There are moments when you’ll have to scale large boulders or jump from rock to rock like a clumsy frog trying to avoid being dinner for a hawk. And if you’re lucky, you'll get a sneak peek at the coastal view that unfurls before you—blue waters peeking through gaps in the trees, a promise of the beauty that awaits below. But don’t get too distracted. If you find yourself marveling too much at the view, you might trip over a loose stone and fall flat on your face. Trust me, I know.
The Surreal View: That Moment You Realize You’ve Earned It
After what feels like an eternity of knee-busting drops, sharp inclines, and many prayers to the hiking gods, you’ll eventually round a bend and find yourself looking out over the calanque. The sensation is nothing short of breathtaking. Below, the water is an impossibly rich shade of blue, its clarity making it appear almost too pristine to be real. The jagged cliffs, steep and dramatic, rise from the sea as though the land is pushing upward to meet the sky. And all around you, the scent of saltwater mingles with the earthy smell of pine and sagebrush, filling your lungs and giving you the sudden, overwhelming sensation of having earned every inch of your sweat-soaked trek.
It’s a moment that you can’t really prepare for. All the grumbling you did about the descent, the slight panic over whether your legs would actually make it back up, the doubts about your fitness level—suddenly, none of it matters. You’ve arrived. This is what it’s all about.
Some brave souls will immediately plunge into the cool waters for a swim, while others might choose to bask in the sun on the smooth rocks, taking in the quiet isolation that surrounds the calanque. It’s as though time stands still. You can hear the soft lapping of the water against the rocks and the occasional distant call of a seabird. The sense of tranquility is palpable, an oasis of peace that seems worlds away from the chaos of Marseille itself.
But there’s a catch. As beautiful as it is, this secluded paradise isn’t exactly the place to relax and daydream about your next meal. There’s a small but important reminder that nature, in all its splendor, is never quite as welcoming as it seems.
The Return Journey: What Goes Down Must Come Up
So, after a few hours of basking in the glory of the calanque and perhaps partaking in a few solemn moments of reflection (possibly accompanied by a snack or a bottle of water), it’s time to begin the ascent. Now, here’s the kicker: what goes down, must come up. And for all those gorgeous slopes you’ve descended, you now have to climb them back up. The realization hits you just as you take your first step on the way back: your legs are a little less thrilled about the idea of scaling that mountain again—and if you didn’t save enough water, they’re about to file a formal complaint. There are no fountains on the trail, no secret cafés tucked into the cliffs, so what you brought with you is all you’ve got.
But don’t be discouraged—there’s a certain rhythm to it. Take it slow, breathe deeply, and appreciate the view. What might feel like an agonizing uphill battle is also an opportunity to experience the landscape in a new light. The setting sun, the changing angle of the cliffs, and the shifting colors of the water all become a backdrop to your effort. Sure, it’s tough, but it’s also rewarding in a way that’s hard to put into words.
And let’s be real here for a moment: if you’re still standing and moving, then you’re winning. Because in the end, isn’t that what the journey is all about? Embracing the challenge, overcoming it, and being rewarded with a view that makes you want to stand atop a mountain and yell, “I did it!” (Though, please refrain from actual yelling. Both nature and the French appreciate your quiet celebration).
The Post-Trail Euphoria: An Ice Cold Reward
Upon your return to the trailhead, you’ll likely experience a wave of relief, accomplishment, and—let’s be honest—exhaustion. Your legs may feel like jelly, your shoulders might ache from the weight of your backpack, and you may find that the simple act of sitting down is a luxury you’ve never known before.
But here’s the beauty of it all: you did it. You experienced one of the most stunning natural landscapes in the world, and now you can reward yourself with a well-earned rest. Perhaps there’s a nearby café with a chilled glass of rosé or a bowl of bouillabaisse calling your name. Either way, the journey down to the calanque will have left its mark on you, reminding you of both your strength and your ability to find beauty in the most unexpected places.
You’ll come back sunburned, sore, and maybe questioning your life choices. And somehow, you’ll already be planning when to do it again.
Have you hiked to one of the calanques—or are you planning to? Share your experience (or your questions) in the comments. We’d love to hear how the trail treated you.
