Made it

Bienvenue a Paris, mon amis!

 

Well, I am finally here. Whew.  As if direct flights weren't long enough.  I guess I can't complain.  Getting tickets on Continental using frequent flyer mileage saves a big hunk o' change, so I suppose that dealing with the layover in the Houston isn't really too much to ask.  I did, after all, find a softcover copy of Julia Child's book My Life in France at the Houston International Airport, so perhaps it was meant to be.  Although Julia had the romance of arriving at Le Havre by ship (after what sounded like a truly tortuous crossing), I simply glided into Charles De Gaulle airport watching Ocean's 13 on my little video monitor while simultaneously reading The Economist (just had to throw that in there to give myself at least a skosh of intellectual cred).

 

Both of my flights were, shockingly, right on time both taking off and landing.  Continental, equally shockingly, even served food for which they didn't charge extra on the flight from San Francisco to Houston.  I just can't bring myself to call it George Bush International Airport.  I know it's the name, but after all, I still call that small airport in Washington D.C. "National Airport" - when I think about Ronald Reagan, all I can think about is him saying that "trees cause pollution" and that when it comes to kids getting healthy lunch options at school, "ketchup is a vegetable".  I know that this must seem like a digression, but isn't it cool how I brought it back to food?

 

By the way, Ronnie (and yes, I know that you're on the other side now), ketchup is made from tomatoes...and a tomato is a fruit.

 

OK, back to Paris.

 

Landed at CDG right smack on time...no...actually, we were 15 to 20 minutes early!  But. There always has to be a but, huh?  After exiting the plane and walking into the terminal, we were funneled into a hall that lead to customs (Douane) and baggage claim.  But there was a backup in the hall.  At first we were walking, but 100' down the hall we stop behind what looks like an endless line of people.  Although nobody bothered to announce the problem to us, apparently somebody had abandoned (or forgot) a bag in the customs area and they were waiting for the police to come and take it away for disposal.  What was the effect?  Nearly 500 people were standing in this hall for nearly 45 minutes.  Grrrr.

 

OK - so they wave us through customs quickly - that was nice.  Baggage claim was just what it is everywhere, slow, but the bag did eventually show up - and not even the last on the conveyor!  From there, I buzzed right out to get some cash using my nearly worthless US dollars and find my way into Paris.  Waited on line for the ATM about 10 min...only to have it go offline as I walked up. Double-grrrr.  Finally got it working and pulled out a stack o' Euros for the cab.  Now I was supposed to meet the property manager for the apartment I rented at 11:30, but even though I got in at 9:20AM, the 45 min wait in the hall, the 15 min wait for the cab, and the 6MPH traffic all the way in to Paris meant that I was nearly an hour late to meet her.  I suppose that I could have used the French GSM phone that my friend Bill lent me to call and let her know that I'd be late, but...er...well...I guess I forgot the phone back in SF. DOH!!!

 

After all that, I did find her, I hauled my bag up the old stairs to the apartment, and found that when you access Google from a French IP address, it always comes up with google.fr.  No duh.  Maybe I just need that nap.