Getting to Nice Part 1

May 8, 2010

Autumn was waiting at the airport ready to go. She forgot how much she hated flying. It always made her nervous. "You're more likely to be hit by lightening twice before having a crash," she would remind herself. She never quite understood why she was afraid of flying, if anything she should be used to it by now. But somehow that fear never escaped her. She looked for comfort and assurance in others, the one's who weren't afraid.

"Now boarding flight 278 British Airways." She saw the massive crowd of passengers scurrying to get in line. Autumn, having been through this before, knew it was pointless to stand in line until it was almost clear. The seats were assigned she argued and couldn't understand why people were so eager to just stand. "People are funny," she thought, always in a hurry to get no where.

As she boarded the plane, she hoped she wouldn't be stuck in between someone obnoxious or someone with body odor. She was lucky.

To her left was Tammy a forty-something year-old, independet strong-willed female film buyer, who like herself was on her way to Cannes. She bought independent films for a living and attened film festivals on a yearly basis. This would be her 11th Cannes. She was a beautiful older woman (possibly with a little help from botox) who was surprisingly very sweet. Autumn was pleased to know she was sitting with a seasoned professional from the film business whom could possibly be a good ally for networking. She told Autumn about the business and how she got started. She lived in Paris for three years, engaged to a Frenchman in her twenties, but just before the wedding she called it quits, "I'm a runaway bride," she said. Then somehow she found herself stuck in the land of film. She was currently unmarried, but was desperately trying hard to get pregnant. Autumn felt bad for her, while at the same time admiring her. "Classic case of career over family, but was that so bad?" she thought.

To her right was Cheryl another 28-year-old adventurer flying to France to start her new outdoor tour guide job for Baccarats Tour Company. She reminded Autumn much of herself, an independent free-spirit who just wanted to travel and see the world while she was young. It didn't seem like she was holding anything back as she proceeded to tell Autumn about all her adventures from South America, Asia and Europe. Now she would be living in Europe at least until October to show wealthy tourists the back roads of France and England. "Must be nice," she thought.

The three ladies talked for a while, then soon realized that after two hours of waiting they were still on the runway. None of them knew what the hold up was. All they did know was that it felt like a sauna - based on the strong smell of sweaty armpits that filled the cabin air.

Soon they were off. Autumn closed her eyes during take off. The plane shook ferociously as Autumn took deep breathes to relax her nerves. Soon the stewardess started to serve food - that is if you can call microwaved goopy chicken with clumped rice "food." It was going to be a long flight.

Ten hours, two movies and two awful meals later; Autumn arrived in London. She was exhausted with just 30 minutes of sleep. Unfortunately she was used to it, she could never be relaxed enough to sleep on flights. She always envied the people who could, "bastards" she'd say. It didn't matter at that point, since her flight was delayed. She had to wait less for her connecting flight to Nice, so she knew there was no time for rest now. "Another two hours of jet lag," she sighed.

Another bumpy plane ride later she was finally in Nice, France; right on the French Riviera, where movies are made and the rich go to mingle with their own kind. Autumn knew she wasn't part of that culture. She was simply an observer, trying to hold her own. Pretty soon she would be entering the ridiculously excessive, fabulous, insane world of film. "Cannes, here I come," she smiled. The next two weeks were going to be very interesting.

To be continued...