I was done blogging, but K insisted the tale was worthy of a post, and you'd all like to hear it, and then I have time on my hands as she continues her busy social calendar. :)
There will be no pictures and thus no thumbnail. Unless I pick something random to make it pretty.
Let's start with the known ugly: Ian's flight out of Nice to Paris Charles DeGaulle airport was at 6 AM. We knew this and prepared (sort of) accordingly. We (K went with us) were in the car at 4 and quickly made the 25 minute trip, sans traffic or light, easily. She cried her good-byes and away he went.
Likewise, quick, easy return trip. Despite having done it half a dozen times, I made one wrong turn that I quickly turned around and we were back. We both went back to bed, wondering if we could go back to sleep. We did.
We were up and out of the resort at 830, as K wanted, for our 11 o'clock flight. "You know, there's the rental car to turn in and all..." So, by 920 we were walking into the departure area -- plenty of time.
I look up at the big departure board and K says I said out loud, "where's our flight?!?!" There was no Air France flight to Paris at 11, to the right airport or not.
I dug out my phone and looked closely at my boarding pass.
We were on the 950 flight!!!! (getting in at 11)
Merde!
We didn't bother trying to sprint through all we had to sprint through to get to the gate on time (we weren't getting there). Sigh.
We got in the short line to the Air France counter, got the staff person and she looked us up and said what EH says was a French version of "wow." 😂
She called someone and offered us seats on their 1:50 flight (our flight from Paris was at 640), which we took. She also took my credit card for the charge to switch to that plane: not horrible, but X 3 and it adds up. 😢
After sitting and regrouping, doing the math on the connection and our leaving Paris, we were all okay and decided to get breakfast.
If I haven't made this clear, the French aren't big on breakfast. Petit dejeuner is their thing -- orange juice, coffee, and a bread. Eggs? No. For the people who invented both quiche and omelettes, this seems a bit odd, but there it is.
After some struggle, we found the only open restaurant, and we hoped for real food. The concierge turned us away until 11. No eggs he said and you wouldn't find a place in the airport with them. 😢 We ended up eating at a Bread Co., where we ordered the quiche, I asked if he'd warm it up and he thought that was a novel idea, took it in the back for a moment and brought it out -- still cold! LoL.
We killed the extra 3 plus hours and got on the Air France flight at 1:50 easy-peasy. Sigh.
We got into Paris Orly airport (in case you wonder, it is or-LEE) and our luggage came quickly.
We even found the train to the other terminal easily enough.
Then we got to the French Bee check-in area. Chaos! There were people everywhere, long lines, and no signs. A customer rep walked around saying important things in French, none of which I could pick up. After standing in the long line awhile I noticed an arch that said "US Flights" and no one going through it. It seemed we were in the line to St. Denis (EH says it's in the Indian Ocean), so we switched, and got passed close to the automated check-in counter.
If you think this is all a lot, you've not heard nothing yet.
A sign indicated you should be to the airport 2 hours and 30 minutes before you flight; we were spot on.
We got into the passport line. The one for non-EU passports was long. (This would be a reason I would have voted against Brexit if I was a Brit) While we stood there, in sight of the down escalator that brought us there, a woman's clothing caught in the escalator's teeth and she was being yanked into the end. The passport staff person rushed over and hit the stop bottom as she was on the bottom step. I think there was an audible sigh of relief from the crowd.
But the staff person seemed upset by the whole thing and her supervisor came and sent her off (this is a recurring theme) and we no longer had someone directing us.
I will cut to the chase, skipping several odd and amusing stories, to us getting through passport control in an hour. They were fingerprinting and taking photos of everyone, and, of course, there were one or two who weren't ready.
Now our cushion was gone and the signs said that our gate, of course the farthest away, was half hour walk.
We walked. AS ws closed in, EH and I insisted on stopping at a convenience store and getting drinks and snacks. There was no time for real food. K was kind of panicking "don't stop!" but we did and fairly quickly were back at it.
They were already loading our group, 4, when we got to the gate and walked right up to the line and found that they were loading front and back and we were in what they thought was front (not really) and no one was in that line.
To our seats, the usually jockeying with luggage, etc, but there was room when we got on in the bins and we sat down, ready to go.
We were a few minutes late leaving, but it seemed ok.
K was disturbed by the trip, and the whole French Bee (the airline) experience. She thinks the seats are narrower and with less leg room than "normal." We discussed various international flights experience. I agree she was probably right, but only marginally. That wouldn't be a big deal if a) the guy in front of me didn't decide to do a full recline; b) the staff were as inattentive as possible. EH and K ended up buying food -- their mozzarella sandwich, which they deemed "not terrible" and not overpriced. But we got little other service. Two other tiny cups of water (smaller than juice glasses). If you could catch one of them, you could get more, but good luck with that. No one seemed to be using their movies or TV -- I guess everything was dated, or people knew better, or maye the 5 euro (I haven't figured out how to make the sign yet) for earphones was too much.
Both flights on Sunday they insisted -- the staffer made a point of telling EH, who missed the announcement with her headphones on, to shut down -- that all electronics go off for the final minutes of descent. I put my ipad in the seatback pocket (I guess).
We landed in Newark, jumped up, got all the stuff and got off the plane.
Doing okay.
Then we hit passport control again.
The line was huge. It was not good to be an American, or with a green card, or whatever. After half hour walk through the cattle shutes, we got to the end and a staffer directed people. She put us in line 18, behind a couple and a family of 4.
The couple took forever. I don't know and will never know what happened, but, in the end, the agent shut down line 18, turning the green light to orange, and walked them off, (them) never to be seen again.
As soon as he did so, K turned to the staffer who directed us and asked if we couldn't be put elsewhere. "Sure, if you go to the back of the line."
K ended up asking again. Then wanted me to say something. I refused.
The family ahead of us asked us and we said we didn't know.
In line 19, the agent had some kind of experience, got out of his booth, walked back to those in his line and said "you have your passports?" Everyone sheepishly held them up.
He turned to us in line 18 and asked us the same question. We nodded and showed him. He went back into his booth.
After about 15 minutes, our guy came back, but before going into his booth, came around to us and asked "you do have your passports?"
He took photos of three of the four ahead of us and only one set of prints. I was counting.
When EH handed him our three passports, he gave them a cursory look, and told us to have a nice stay.
Another hour in a passport control line. 😡
If you think I'm done, no, no, no.
Next, you know there was a snow storm Friday into Saturday on the East Coast, so not only did we come out to the bitter cold (we hadn't seen anything lower than 40 all week) AND snow and ice on the car.
Great. Cleaned off.
Drive to the exit toll booths, go to one of two marked prepaid (I've gotten into the habit -- saves money) only to have the lines not move.
Nobody moved.
By this time K is apoplectic with waiting (at this point we've been on the road for 21 hours) and not dealing well with it.
The car in front of me tries to back up (to go where, I have no idea) and a car in the next line backs up, gets out, and comes and jams into OUR line!!!
Eventually an attendant in the lime green vest comes and talks to the second car in the line next to us, and then we see the arm go up and one car finally get out.
He ended up directing traffic, keeping us from going through too fast, I guess. I guess in the cold their license plate read system was slow enough to be locking up.
It might have taken 20 minutes to get through. Our last nerve.
The trip home was fine, with a quick convenience store stop for more drinks and some snacks.
And then we were home.
Remember the part about putting away electronics? I went to pull out my iPad yesterday morning and...
Well, I left it on the plane. It's the only answer. "Find My..." app doesn't show it.
French Bee said to email them at lost and found in Newark and I did, but I haven't heard back. Morte de IPad. 😢
I was told it was an expensive trip home 😡😁
So, there you have it. Enjoy our pain. See you next time -- next month.
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