Toulon comes to mind as a festival of cheers, with familiar and unfamiliar faces roaming the streets. Soldiers in endless ranks, their footsteps monotonous, aiming for the port. Everyone wants to be part of the holy war that brings glory to a nation whose honor has been tarnished and humiliated. Everyone wants to eliminate the pirate horde that enslaves Christians. Everyone dreams of eradicating the myth of the savage Turks in the Mediterranean. But what is Toulon like today? Will I hear the echo of the cheers and follow the footsteps of the soldiers? Or have people turned to their daily concerns and forgotten all their past dreams? Surely this is what happened. Hasn't the city that terrified everyone ended and passed from the Turks to the Romans? This is what happened, and what I will think about when I cross the Mediterranean to see it with its different face, two years after my absence and three years after its occupation.