Walking the Magdalene Trail Through Provence
- Jo Moore
- Feb 2
- 8 min read
Five Days from Marseille to Saint-Maximin-la-Sainte-Baume
Walking the Magdalene Trail through Provence is a journey that unfolds slowly, step by step, from the Mediterranean shoreline into the deep forests and limestone heights of the Sainte-Baume. Following the Provençal tradition that Mary Magdalene arrived by boat near Marseille (Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer) and spent her final years in the forested massif protected by Druids, this five-day walk traces a powerful arc — from city streets to wild calanques, from sun-bleached ridges to sacred caves, and finally to the basilica that guards her relics in Saint-Maximin.
While the whole trail reveals a 222-km trail in 10 stages unveiling major Christian sites and monuments, this itinerary covers just over 100 kilometres (including a visit around the caves) and is demanding in places, particularly where it crosses the Massif des Calanques and the Massif de la Sainte-Baume. What makes it unforgettable is not just the physical challenge, but the constant contrast: sea and stone, rock and forest, light and shade, solitude and village life, the everyday and the sacred. With every step, the sacred always comes back to mind.
Day 1 — Marseille Centre to Marseille-la-Barasse (22 kilometres)
From city streets to the edge of wilderness
The walk begins in the heart of Marseille, France’s oldest city and a place of constant movement. Leaving the bustle of the Vieux-Port or the narrow streets of Le Panier, the trail initially heads south to the coast and then north-east through residential districts, parks and quiet back streets. This first day is not about dramatic scenery but about transition — physically and mentally — as the city slowly loosens its grip.
As you move away from the centre, urban noise fades and patches of green appear: small hills, pine trees, and glimpses of limestone rising in the distance. Footpaths gradually replace pavements, and the air takes on the dry, herbal scent of Provence. The terrain is mostly gentle, a mix of tarmac, compacted dirt paths and occasional gravel tracks, making it an accessible start to the journey.
By the time you reach Marseille-la-Barasse, the character of the walk has already changed. This former village, now a quiet suburb at the city’s edge, sits at the gateway to the Massif des Calanques. Limestone walls rise above you, and the sense of entering a wilder landscape is unmistakable. It’s a fitting place to pause — the city behind you, the mountains ahead.
Day 2 — Marseille-la-Barasse to Gémenos (28 kilometres)
Crossing the Massif des Calanques
Day two is one of the most striking and physically demanding sections of the entire walk. Leaving Marseille-la-Barasse, the route climbs quickly away from the last suburban streets and into the rugged limestone hills east of Marseille. Although these hills are often loosely associated with the Calanques because of their shared geology, this stage does not follow the famous coastal inlets. Instead, it crosses the inland limestone barrier that separates Marseille from the Provençal interior — wild, dry, and physically demanding in its own right.
The terrain here is unmistakably Mediterranean and largely unforgiving. Narrow footpaths wind upward over pale limestone, scattered with loose stones and eroded rock. Vegetation is sparse and low to the ground: thyme, rosemary, juniper and hardy shrubs clinging to cracks in the stone. Shade is limited, and the sun reflects strongly off the rock, making this one of the hottest and most exposed days of the walk in warm weather. I went in January and it was wonderfully dry and gently sun-kissed.
As height is gained, the landscape opens out. From higher points along the ridges, there are expansive views back toward Marseille and occasionally the Mediterranean, the city gradually dissolving into haze below. Ahead, the land rolls inward toward greener foothills, signalling the approach of the Sainte-Baume massif. This contrast — between exposed, mineral terrain and the promise of forest ahead — defines the character of the day.
Despite the absence of dramatic sea cliffs, this section feels remote and elemental. Eerily quite even. Old shepherd paths, dry stone walls and occasional waymarkers hint at centuries of passage through these hills. The walking is slow and deliberate, requiring attention underfoot, but the sense of crossing a natural threshold is strong.
As the day progresses, the path begins to descend. Pine trees appear, soils deepen, and the harsh limestone gives way to a softer, greener landscape. Gémenos emerges at the foot of the Sainte-Baume, a lively Provençal town with water, shade and cafés — a welcome contrast after a long, sun-exposed crossing. It marks both the end of a demanding day and the transition from bare limestone hills into the deep forests that define the next stage of the pilgrimage.
Day 3 — Gémenos to the Hostellerie, Plan d’Aups (19 kilometres)
Across the Massif de la Sainte-Baume
Leaving Gémenos, the route turns decisively toward the rising wall of the Massif de la Sainte-Baume. The path begins gently enough as it trundles alongside a small stream, but soon commits to a sustained climb up the side of the rocky massif, winding steadily through forested slopes. This is a day defined by ascent — not abrupt, but constant, requiring patience and a measured pace. It's hard to decide whether today or yesterday was the toughest trail to tackle.
The climb takes place under some tree cover and a lot of garrigue. The lower slopes are wooded, with oak and pine offering intermittent shade, while higher up the forest thickens and the character changes. The path narrows, steepens in places, and becomes more uneven underfoot, with exposed roots, embedded stones and sections of eroded trail. Limestone outcrops appear between trees, a reminder of the solid rock beneath the forest floor.
As altitude is gained, the feeling of climbing a mountain flank becomes unmistakable. Occasional breaks in the trees offer glimpses back toward the plains below and, on clear days, distant views toward Marseille. The air cools noticeably, and the forest takes on a deeper, more enclosed atmosphere, quiet and almost solemn.
Reaching the upper edge of the massif marks a clear transition. The path levels out and a short transition is made between trail markers to emerge onto the Sainte-Baume plateau, where the landscape opens up and the walking eases. Here, the route crosses the top of the massif rather than continuing upward. The terrain becomes more horizontal, following limestone tracks and gentler paths beneath tall beech and chestnut trees and scrub.
This plateau feels remote and timeless. The forest was ancient, shaded and cool, with soft light filtering through leaves and a sense of distance from the world below. But after the sustained effort of the morning's climb, the change in gradient on entering the massif this afternoon is both physical relief and emotional shift, inviting slower steps and quieter thoughts.
The day ends at the Hostellerie in Plan d’Aups, set on the plateau at the heart of the Sainte-Baume. The Hostellerie de la Sainte-Baume sits in a clearing surrounded by trees, long serving as a place of rest for pilgrims before the sacred sites above. With most of the climbing behind you, the atmosphere encourages stillness and recovery — a pause between ascent and the deeply symbolic journey of the following day.
Day 4 — The Caves and Church (6 kilometres) and the Hostellerie to Nans-les-Pins (6.5 kilometres)
The Cave of Eggs and the Church
This is the spiritual heart of the journey.
From the back of the Hostellerie, the trail follows a historic pilgrim path back into the forest and up a very steep and unmarked trail. The Cave of Eggs (Grotte aux Œufs) is one of the first sacred sites encountered. Tucked into the rocky wall of the massif, it carries centuries of legend and devotion. The terrain all around here is rocky and uneven, with stone steps and narrow ledges requiring care. The entrance is very steep and slippery and so a rope tied around a tree near the entrance is a good idea. In winter, water runs through the cave.
Continuing eastward along a narrow trail cut into the hillside, you reach the Grotte de Sainte-Marie-Madeleine, set dramatically into the limestone face of the mountain. The final approach involves steep steps and exposed rock, but the effort is rewarded with a powerful sense of stillness. Inside the grotto, the air is cool and heavy with history and palpable reverence. Candles flicker against stone walls, and voices instinctively drop to whispers.
Directly above the grotto on the top of the massif stands the Chapelle of Saint-Pilon, a small sanctuary overlooking the forest canopy below. From here, the views stretch across the plains of Provence, offering a rare sense of height and perspective.
After lingering at these sacred sites, the route turns downward toward Nans-les-Pins.
Initially, the trail follows the Chemin des Roys, once used by kings, popes and nobles travelling to venerate Mary Magdalene. The Chemin des Roys culminates just below the grotto to the south and starts in the woods south of Nans-les-Pins. The path is largely level at first and then descends quite rapidly through rocky wooded terrain that gradually opens up into meadows and farmland. The shift from sacred forest to village life is gradual and soothing. There is a local trail called Les Sources de'Huveaune which starts here at Nans-les-Pins and weaves in harmony with the Magdalene walk back between the two massifs to find itself emptying into the sea at Marseille.
Nans-les-Pins is a quiet and largely untouched Provençal town surrounded by fields and woodland — an ideal place to rest after a day that is as emotionally rich as it is physically demanding.
Day 5 — Nans-les-Pins to Saint-Maximin-la-Sainte-Baume (21 kilometres)
A gentle final approach
The final day is a somewhat softer conclusion to the journey than the two days hiking up the two massifs. Leaving Nans-les-Pins, the path initially follows rural tracks, small roads and open countryside revealing olive groves, vineyards and cultivated fields. The track then turn steeply upward into dense forest, before levelling out as it turns east and then heads north before dropping dramatically down a stream-cum-stone pathway into the village of Rougiers.
As you leave the village and begin to follow the canal de Provence, the walking becomes easier underfoot. The terrain rolls gently, offering time to reflect on the days behind you. Saint-Maximin gradually comes into view on the final descent of the trip. Entering the town feels almost ceremonial — streets widen, cafés appear, and the sense of arrival grows with every step.
The walk ends at the Basilica of Sainte-Marie-Madeleine, one of the largest Gothic churches in southern France. Inside, the crypt houses the relics traditionally attributed to Mary Magdalene (purportedly including her skull), completing the narrative that began on the shores of Marseille five days earlier.
Saint-Maximin is both a pilgrimage destination and a living Provençal town. Sitting in the square with a coffee or glass of wine, it’s hard not to feel a deep satisfaction — not just at finishing the walk, but at having traced a route that binds landscape (especially as the trail loosely starts and ends with the Huveaune), legend and lived experience so seamlessly.
Final Reflections on Walking the Magdalene Trail through Provence
Walking the Magdalene Trail from Marseille to Saint-Maximin-la-Sainte-Baume is a journey of contrasts: city and wilderness, exposure and shelter, effort and stillness. The Massif des Calanques tests the body; the Sainte-Baume forest quiets the mind; the sacred sites invite deep reflection whether or not you walk with faith.
Over five days, the trail reveals Provence at its most elemental — limestone and pine, light and shadow — and reminds you that some landscapes are not just seen, but felt. This is a walk that lingers long after the boots are off.
I have written this piece as a blog post to entice people to get up and walk - to get up and hike - their way across some amazing landscape and experience the reverence and inner peace that keep coming back to mind, body and soul, time and time again, with every step taken over these sacred lands. What sense of sacred, you may ask? That, I believe, is personal and for each of us to experience uniquely as individuals and most often at key turning points in our lives.
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