Some stories sound so improbable that even the most steadfast optimists furrow their brows for a moment. Exactly such a story is currently happening in the small port of Cassis, on the French Mediterranean coast. There, where sailboats usually sway, tourists drink pastis and the coves seem painted under the sun, suddenly everything revolves around millions.
More precisely: almost 49 million euros.
At the center of the event is a modest tobacco shop with the typical southern French name “La Civette du Port”. A shop like so many others — cigarettes, magazines, lottery tickets, a brief chat at the counter. But in less than a week this place has become a kind of pilgrimage site for those seeking luck.
On April 21st, a Euromillions ticket was validated there that awarded a French winner a share of more than 48 million euros. That alone would normally be enough for headlines all over France. The Euromillions jackpot is, after all, one of the toughest lotteries in Europe. The odds of winning the grand prize are astronomical — approximately as realistic as a spontaneous snowstorm in the middle of summer in Marseille.
And then it happened again.
A few days later, the Française des Jeux announced another millionaire prize at the same store. This time it was “only” one million euros — won with the complementary game “My Million,” which is automatically associated with every EuroMillions bet. A couple from the region received this windfall completely unexpectedly.
The most curious thing: the winner had dreamed several times before about winning the lottery. Her friends laughed at first. She herself started playing regularly afterwards, not fanatically, but under the motto: “Why not?” In the end, it was not her personal number combination that decided the win, but the automatically generated code for the complementary game.
That’s life sometimes.
Now almost everyone in Cassis is talking about it. Groups of people repeatedly form in front of the small store. Tourists photograph the entrance door, locals buy lottery tickets regularly even though for years they had not played a single one. The place lives on stories — fishermen’s exaggerations, port gossip, summer romances. But this chapter surpasses them all.
The owner of the business is living in a state of exception. Between shelves of tobacco and postcards, there has been constant activity for days. Some customers enter almost with respect, as if a little luck had soaked into the walls.
France loves stories like this.
Especially in times of economic uncertainty, lottery millionaires have an almost fairy-tale effect. Ordinary people whose daily lives change completely in a matter of seconds — that moves many. Perhaps because it holds a silent hope: that life sometimes opens surprising doors.
And Cassis offers the perfect setting for that. The small coastal town is already considered a dream place between Provence and the Mediterranean. Narrow streets, colorful facades, cafés by the water — almost too beautiful to be true. Now its fame as the “luck harbor” is added.
Whether the Cassis miracle continues, no one knows. Statistics probably say otherwise. But people care little for statistics when millions are won somewhere.
The small tobacco shop at the harbor has already reached cult status.
Or, as many French people now say: the famous “bureau de tabac porte-bonheur” — the lucky tobacco shop.
By C. Hatty