Marjorie surprised me with a phone call. "Rather then my coming to Paris next week, can you meet me in Seychelles, a friend has a house there we can use. While we talked, I re-arranged my schedule and checked on flights, "I'll meet you there Wednesday..." I replied.
She met me at the airport with a tuk-tuk that transported us to the house, about an hour away. The house was set back from the beach behind a small road, it was set on stilts as were several others we'd passed. Probably as protection against possible storm surge. It was of wood and masonry construction with a hip roof that extended over a wide veranda. Several of the rooms shared indoor and outdoor spaces that were closed off by screens.
My typical travel attire is leggings or tights with a jersey or sweater sometimes covered with a tunic. Modest when necessary and comfortable in often too cool airport lounges and planes. But what was comfortable for Paris in March was stifling in the sultry air of Victoria so as soon a we reached the house, I doffed all but the tunic.
I found Marjorie in the pool and I joined her for a swim that culminated with our making love under a palm roofed shelter.
It has been a wonderful week.