The Case of the Frenchman from Montpellier Who Followed Me to Avignon to Take Me Out to Dinner

Photo credit: Libby Crozier

There was a handsome Frenchman who I met in Montpellier. His name was Pierre. I figure as it is such a common name, it is okay to use his real name. I will call him later on Pierre #1. But he comes later...

I was sitting on reading my book in the Botanical Gardens in Montpellier with some fruit that I had picked up at the market as you can see below. This random young guy had come to sit on the bank that I find this to be very odd behaviour. There were other benches around! In fact, I started being somewhat harassed. He kept trying to talk to me, which made me very uncomfortable. 

I had deliberately walked around the gardens to find a nice, quiet part where I could enjoy my surroundings alone but also be in the shade as it was a hot day.

Photo credit: Libby Crozier
Me minding my own business. Someone is singing to his girlfriend with his guitar opposite where I was sitting. Normal type of thing. You know how it is.

This Pierre was able to get me away by whisking me off (after some confusion of my exact location to power walk to me. See below). This guy wasn't leaving or taking no for an answer. At one point, I had made some excuse and walked towards the gardens' entrance to exit... and he had followed me!

Me asking Pierre to help me 
Lovely Pierre coming to my rescue but my sense of direction sucks

Pierre asked me to spend some time with him so I felt safe to do so. He felt that our meeting was too short as it had just been a drink opposite the Botanic Gardens. 
I had plans to meet two members of the "Aussies in France" Facebook group in person for the first time (one is from Melbourne!) but I agreed to meet him again later on, which I did many hours later.

Unfortunately, when Pierre had asked to spend time with me, he did not realise that I lived so far away.

The iconic steps
Yay, we finally meet!

We also indulged in my favourite "Amorino" ice cream, which is famous for designing the scoops of ice scream into the shape of a flower. On a cone. 

Interesting fact that no one needs to know:
Libby has a bit of a fear of melted ice cream, which is a well-known fact. I also get very stressed when eating from a cone as the ice cream will drip down the cone and what if it goes everywhere? Perhaps this is some kind of subconscious fear from childhood?! 
Long story short: I always have ice cream in a cup!

My friends find this very amusing. Even sending me photos of their bowl of ice cream that was melting. I also went to a restaurant with a group of friends for a set dinner and the dessert were ice creams in cones. But. They accidentally gave us an extra one. So I had to watch it. Melting down the cone onto the table.

*** My friend Melissa and I got ice cream (in a cone) in high school. I remember both of us, being slow eaters standing together over a rubbish bin in the street due to the meltage. Melissa laughed when I brought it up a couple of years ago. She can't remember. This was a traumatic event for me however. Melissa is my friend from prep! She is a model, actor, musical superstar, and singer. 

(Don't tell her I told you! She's so modest. She is on YouTube and even has her own video clip for an original song she wrote. She has others and does amazing covers. One of my uni friends once asked if I could ask Melissa if she could use it for her wedding.)

I digress so

Moving back...

I cannot breach confidentiality and say what this man did for a living but he did take me to a place where most people would not be privy to and he explained how things worked. He was very sweet.

I think the overall feeling was the obvious logistics of not being from the same city. Paris is hours away from Montpellier. My position working for the French Education Department had reached the end of its contract, hence why I decided to use this opportunity to see more of France, the country I love so much.

Being the romantics that a lot of Frenchmen (not all) are, he decided that he wanted to give it a go and get to know me better due to having "un bon feeling".

I was off the next morning to my next stop. I had found a nice AirBnb in Avignon and was hoping to visit the lavender fields, something I always had wanted to do.

The next day I received a text asking me to meet him after he finished work. I said it was too far for him to travel at night but he said he was used to driving in that direction to Nimes, 

To be completed...