Paris-Part 1

It was 2008.  We decided to go to Paris.  How hard could that be? I could plan this. I had planned plenty of other vacations.  In the US…. Where everyone speaks English….and everyone uses US currency…  But all I needed was my travel books and the internet, right? 

Our little travel group included me, my husband, my three children-ages 18, 16, and 14, my mom, and my aunt.  Since my oldest daughter would be graduating high school, and this was sort of her idea, we let her invite a friend as well.  What could go wrong?

We flew to New York, where we would catch our flight to London.  I had booked tickets for the Chunnel to get to Paris.  We boarded our flight and took off.  So far, so good.  Then the pilot made an announcement.  They were dumping fuel into the Atlantic, turning around, and making an emergency landing back at JFK airport.  Apparently, a bird had hit the windshield of the plane and the windshield had cracked.  Okey dokey.  We were on track for another interesting family vacation.  We landed back at JFK, got off the plane, waited hours for repair or for a new plane, and headed to London once again.  When we landed in London, we discovered that, due to the delay, we had missed our train to Paris.  We asked them to honor our tickets for the next train, since the delay was not our fault.  They would not. We also discovered that my aunt’s luggage had not made it to London.  We filled out the paperwork for the lost luggage and moved on. (That last statement may make it seem that there were no emotional reactions to the lost luggage issue. That could not be further from the truth).

$800 dollars later….We had new tickets and boarded the train.  I have to say. I was not all that impressed with the Chunnel. It was basically a train ride.  Maybe I expected more because, by this time, we had paid $200 for each ticket, which felt like a lot.  Sure, you go under water, but you can’t really tell you are under water.  You’re in a tunnel.  It’s not like you can see marine life floating past your window as you drive through.  And since the train is moving at 100-186 mph, if it were not in a tunnel, all you would see would be a massacre of sea animals, so thank goodness for the tunnel. 

Anyway, we made it to Paris.  It had been a long trip.  I desperately needed to brush my teeth.  We finally made our way out of the train station to find a taxi.  Fun fact.  If you walk up to the taxi guy at the airport in Paris and say, “excuse me, I need a taxi,” that is considered rude.  You are supposed to say “bon jour” first.  Maybe they should consider posting a sign saying that, because I was ready to rip that guy’s head off before I figured it out.  

We made it to our rented apartment.  The lady that owned the apartment was very nice, even though we had arrived hours later than she was expecting.  We settled into our apartment, took showers, and tried to recover from the trip.  My aunt was determined to find her luggage.  Somehow, she had acquired a phone number that she thought was the number for lost luggage. She called the number and reached the Paris fire department.  I may be wrong, but I really don’t think the Paris fire department is who you want to talk to about missing luggage.  Whoever answered the phone did not speak English.  Aunt Carol kept repeating the same thing, each time a little louder, in English. She called this same number multiple times over the next couple of days.  The fireman’s English did not improve, even when Aunt Carol repeated it several times, very loudly. Needless to say, she did not get any help locating her luggage.

Luckily, Aunt Carol had an overnight bag with her that had an extra outfit, medications, etc. We had a washer and dryer in the apartment, so we could make do.  She did want some extra underwear, though, and there were no washcloths in the apartment, so our first outing was to find washcloths and underwear.  No luck on the washcloths.  The only underwear we could find were thongs.  Aunt Carol said, and I quote, “I am a 71 year old woman.  I do not wear thongs.”  I don’t disagree.  I’ve never understood the thong. Well, we could do laundry every day for the rest of the trip so that Aunt Carol could have clean underwear. We bought some food, went back to the apartment and went to bed so we could start fresh in the morning.  I had a notebook with plenty of plans to keep us busy for the rest of the trip.

The next morning I woke up and heard my mom and my aunt on the front balcony.  They had claimed the two complimentary robes in the apartment and were sitting on the balcony with their coffee and their matching robes.  They were waving and saying good morning to people walking by.  I don’t know if that is a thing in Paris, but it was that week.  Yes.  It happened every morning. They started recognizing the same people, and the people started waving back.  My mom and aunt had brought US Midwest and Southern hospitality to Paris. 

Coming up next time- Part 2 of the Paris trip.

My Top Tips for Paris So Far:

1. Birds can crack a plane windshield.  I was not aware of that.  And now you are aware of that too.  Sorry if that adds stress and anxiety to your plane trip.  There are a lot of birds in the sky.
2. It takes a long time to repair a windshield on a plane, or for another plane to become available.
3. To book tickets on the Chunnel, go to www.eurostarails.com. It’s probably a pretty fun trip, if you haven’t had to pay double for your tickets. 
4. Apparently, the train station in London does not honor your tickets if you miss your train.  Even if a bird cracked the windshield of your plane.
5. Regular underwear and washcloths are difficult to find in Paris.
6. Speaking louder in English does not make a non-English speaker understand you better, no matter how many times you call back and do the same thing.
7. The Paris fire department does not help you find your lost luggage.
8. Be sure to say “bon jour” before asking for a taxi.  It will save you some frustration, and it may save the taxi guy’s head.