Unlike previous days, we spend a short time at the beach on Sable d'or. We drop off Chunk, and the Savage informs me he is taking us ( Nana is still with us) to a “savage” beach-isolated and natural....or so he claims. He parks the car, and they walk ahead through the forest on a worn path. They walk far beyond where I can see, but I'm not alarmed. I walk behind, as always, taking my time to ponder the greenery. This is, after all, the Emerald Coast or La Cote d'Emeraude. The forest is indeed populated with trees, bushes, wild flowers, overhanging vines all a bright kelly green. But more importantly, the greenery reminds me of the forest that surrounded my house where I grew up. I spent my childhood exploring forest like this. And it isn't just the appearance, but the sounds of the forest-the birds, the frogs, the insects, the wind in the branches, the sound of twigs snapping under the weight of human footsteps. How strange it is to travel over an ocean to a place you’ve never been before, a place almost completely alien, and yet it feels so familiar, so much like home.

I smell the beach, before I see it. It absolutely reeks. And my sense of smell is not very well developed so it is rare for me to be so overwhelmed by a smell, but even I pause. After I come to the clearing opening onto the beach, the smell is even more intense. Imagine an entire sea of rotten eggs and you have a pretty clear idea of what I encountered. Once I join the Sauvage and his daughter on the towels, he explains that the smell is because of polluting pig farmers. My understanding, or perhaps my radical misinterpretation of what he said, is that the farmers illegally discard the refuse from their pigs into the water, off some cliffs he pointed to, and then the tide brings the refuse to the shore. No wonder this beach was “savage.” Who in the hell wants to go swimming at Pig Pee Bay? And more importantly, why would bring one's girlfriend from abroad to this beach of all beaches?

But it seems both of them are fine with this location. I lie down as it seems I am stuck here. While Nana explores the beach, the Sauvage lies next to me sunning. He allows his hand to travel up my leg until I gasp for breath. I've never been the girlfriend at the beach, never been fondled in public, even at an abandoned beach. His hand lingers, and I work to control my breathing. Eventually he allows his hand to travel back down my thigh. He falls asleep quickly leaving me alone to watch Nana wade calf deep into the stinking water while I wonder how much more of this I can take.