croissant vs fufu

Arrival

Ever since I was five years old, I believed France was heaven on earth.
The art.
The food.
The language.
So, when I finally saved enough money...
I packed my bags and japa'd from Nigeria.
The wind hit me the moment I stepped outside. It was colder than any Nigerian air conditioner.
"Na so cold dey for France, abi na AC?" I muttered, pulling my jacket tighter.
"Miss Udo?"
I turned around to see a French man with blue eyes that shone like the sea, hair as dark as fertile soil, and astonishing features.
"Yes, that's me. Udo," I replied instantly, nervous that I might sound weird.
"Hi, I'm Jean-Paul, your tour guide. We spoke on the phone, remember?" he said with a charming smile that took my breath away.
"Y-Yes! Yes, I remember. We talked yesterday," I said, barely keeping myself together.
"Then we should get going. We have a lot to see in France," he said with his effortless, breathtaking smile as he helped me carry my suitcase.