Lauren, Purvee and I arrived at Bordeaux Saint-Jean station in the early afternoon. Lauren climbed in the front passenger seat of a white taxi while Purvee and I sat together in the back seat as we drove out of the city. We took narrow, winding roads through the French countryside to a tiny cottage that I had rented for five days.
After checking in, we received a brief tour from the property manager. There was a beautifully landscaped garden situated alongside a river, with rolling farmlands and vineyards in all directions. The cottage was tastefully decorated in a French countryside tan and white, with exposed stone walls. Fresh lemons and oranges were laid on a blue porcelain plate in the middle of the dining room table. There was a bedroom loft overlooking the living room with a sofa and fireplace, with exposed timber beams.
“You guys can have the bedroom,” I offered, “I’ll take the couch in the living room.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Lauren interjected, “you rented this whole place for yourself and then are going to sleep on the couch?” No way. You and Purvee can sleep together in the bedroom, I’ll take the couch.”