While the cityís Greek and Roman history canít be escaped, even if interspersed with buildings by Corbusier and Zaha Hadid, we couldnít help but notice the shadows cast across the city by two of our more contemporary favorites, Zinedine Zidane, who was born there, and Rimbaud, who died there. Between the two of them, itís as if the city has been imbued by both grace and brutality. And with that in mind, the beauty of Marseille begins to emerge more fully. Youíll see it yourself in slouchy glares, daring you to take a ride on the back of a motorbike. Youíll notice it in wine-stained pouts that beg to be French kissed. If Paris is a princess, than Marseille is a punk, rough around the edges, endlessly beautiful, and forever young.