The Streets of Marseille

I don’t know the man in the photograph; I didn’t speak to him or get his name. I just felt like it had a story to tell. The buildings are aged and covered in the marks of time and experience. The white-haired man slowly worked his way up the stone street toward the unknown… at least for me.

Where do you think he’s going? Where do you think he’s been?

Read about my other experiences in the European Capital of Culture.