I’d downloaded some travel guides onto my e-reader and at Alexander’s request, I made a list of attractions I wanted to see. Roman ruins, mostly. The Pont Du Gard was not far away from Arles. Nimes had one of the most amazingly intact Roman amphitheatres in the world. Carcassonne had a famed medieval walled fort. Alexander surveyed my list with an amused smile. “What?” I asked defensively. He shook his head and stroked my cheek. “I haven’t played tour guide in many years,” he said, sounding indulgent. “Allons-y. Let’s do this.” We would wake up early in the morning and get on a train, heading to one of the places on my list. France’s rail system was excellent; most places were less than two hours away on the high-speed trains. We would tour the attraction and Alexander would insist on ordering a bottle of wine for lunch, something I was happy to let him do. We would have long and leisurely meals, talking about what we’d seen.
