The flight to France is long and tiring. Tania’s mood drops after the first few hours on the plane. However, her energy is revived once they arrive in France and the plane is low enough for her to snap a few photos.
Tania can barely contain her excitement as she is exposed to one breathtaking view after another.
Tania stands in front of her hotel jet lagged and exhausted, but is not ready to call it a day. There is too much to see. Besides that, she is scheduled to meet up with her French contact right away.
She was instructed to check the bulletin board outside of her hotel for contact information on Jean Luc Pivert, the gentleman she’s supposed to be meeting with here in France.
Attached to the board are directions and a crudely drawn map. Tania grabs them both and sets off.
Tania spots Monsieur Pivert standing in the middle of a gorgeous grassy area.
She stops for a moment to admire the beautiful view. She’s tempted to grab her camera and snap some pictures right then and there, but seeing that Monsieur Pivert is waiting for her, she figured it would be rude.
Tania approaches him. He begins speaking rapidly in French.
Tania is concerned. She attempts to mentally access information from her old high school French class, “Je…ne peux pas…pu…parler français. Parlez…vu…vous Anglais? “ She says, trying to inform him that she doesn’t speak French and asking if he speaks English. She’s sure that she’s destroying the pronunciation.
“Non,” he answers. He then hands her a note with her assignment, written in English.
Tania is relieved that the note is in English, if only I spent more time learning French in school, she thinks to herself.
Monsieur Pivert walks away satisfied that he’s made sure that she received her assignment, but disappointed that she doesn’t know the language.
Tania hops into her rental car and heads toward her first assignment. The National Simographic editors want a few pictures of the local French nectary.
Tania arrives and snaps a few pictures of the nectary. She glances at the grape vines in the field next to the nectary. She should take a few pictures of those, but the thought of sampling nectar is in the forefront of her mind.
The Nectary offers all the free samples that one can drink. This appeals to Tania very much. She grabs a bottle with an appetizing combination of grapes and pours some into glasses.
The aroma is beyond tantalizing. Her taste buds await the sweet nectar.
Tania’s first sip is amazing. She takes time to allow the nectar to simmer in her mouth before allowing it to escape down her throat.
She decides to take a seat. She doesn’t want to waste energy by standing. She wants all of her energy going toward the enjoyment of the nectar.
The nectar is almost as pleasing as her first woo-hoo with Antwain; two times better than the drink she enjoyed at the bar the night before.
The pleasure is almost overwhelming. In the back of her mind, Tania knows that something this pleasing cannot be good for her, but the thought is quickly snubbed away by desire.
Each new sips brings her closer to intoxication, yet she remains too far. She would love to give in to the feeling, but she knows that she has a lot of work to do with her time here in France and drunkenness has no place.
Tania is soon joined by the older gentlemen that she spotted earlier.
“Be careful,” he warns in a pleasing French accent, “there are a few fellows here that would love to take advantage of a gorgeous woman like you who knows how to enjoy a fine glass of nectar.”
Tania takes it as a compliment, not a warning. “Thank you,” she says slightly blushing.
“Are you here for business or pleasure?” The French gentleman asks.
“Mostly business,” Tania answers suddenly uncomfortable; not sure how much info she should be giving this stranger. “Well nice to meet you. I have to go.”
Tania walks to the French market to take more photos and look around. She spots Jean Luc Pivert, who she met with earlier and immediately becomes a little embarrassed that she cannot communicate with him.
The French market is quaint and charming. Tania takes as many shots as possible, before her growling stomach tells her that it’s time to grab a bite to eat.
Not one to be very experimental with cuisine, Tania chooses a meal that sounds safe – an olive platter.
It looks pretty appetizing…
…so Tania sits down and digs in.
As she takes bite after bite, her minds wonders to Antwain. Initially she was happy that he seemed to be OK with her flying to France, but now that she has time alone to think…she’s pretty sure that she’s made an error in thinking that she had his complete approval.
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