Author: germanspy1156

Nestled close to the confluence of the Dordogne and Garonne Rivers lies Bordeaux. This ancient city, blessed by Napoleon and revered by wine-lovers the world over, presides proudly as capital of many of the oldest and most prestigious of the French wine Appellations.

Already the established home of some of Europe’s oldest families, by the 18th century Bordeaux was the wine centre of the world, and nestling amongst its rolling, vine packed hills and ancient villages, towers one of its gems; St Emilion. This 10th century town, carved impossibly from the hillside above the Dordogne seems frozen in time. As Alan looked down fondly on the village this September evening from his hotel room window, apart from the last of the dwindling summer tourists, it seemed nothing had changed the village in centuries. It was as if time had stood still, preserving and protecting its beauty against the ravages of an uncaring and belligerent modern world.

Defying the calculations of modern engineers, Restaurant L’Auberge jutted defiantly from the hillside. This old and renowned icon had been a magnet to village visitors and locals alike for years. Its broad terraces offering breathtaking vistas of the town and the river valley below. Alan smiled, almost sadly, and remembered his last visit there, as he donned his jacket and set off on the short walk up the hill to meet his long time friend and sometime lover. Read more »

Rebecca felt tired but accomplished.  As she boarded the Air France night flight at Pearson, she just wanted to grab a glass of wine, a light meal, and then to sleep her way home to Paris. It had been a successful trip; her local staff had done most of the heavy lifting for her in truth, but the deal was agreed and signed and the agency she had built over many years, often alone, was secure for another year at least.

As her eyes adjusted to the dim lights of the business class cabin, she saw, to her surprise, only one other traveller; a man, greying, unassuming but somehow powerful in an immaculate silk suit.  Business travellers often board late, so she was surprised that, as the flight crew closed the doors, she and the man were still the only travellers.

Dinner was served quickly and cleared equally so, as the attendants scurried to get to their night stations and some paid sleep.  As she thought about settling for sleep, the man, his jacket now removed, politely leant across the aisle and asked Becky if she would like to join him for a nightcap.  Her initial thought was to demur, but then she thought no; it’s been a great day. A late night drink seemed an appropriate celebration. The attendants brought them drinks, dimmed the lights, and retreated to their own privacy. Read more »