| Tuesday December
18, 2007 Saturday promised snow and Sunday delivered. Over the course of twelve hours, we got dumped on. With the help of great neighbors, we got shoveled out and made our way to the airport in Flint. We had "checked-in" on-line. Upon arrival, we discovered that our flight to Detroit was canceled. They had no information on our flight to France, on Air-France. We wanted Air-France as they feed us well and their wine is way better than NorthWorst Airlines. But we had booked the flight through NorthWorst, and they were playing dumb. I actually don't think they were acting...they are possibly THAT dumb. Chad (not his real name) told us that they had re-booked us for a flight out of Flint on Monday (a day later than all of our other plans). We opted to drive to Detroit in the blizzard and fly NorthWorst to Paris. This change allowed us a couple of hours to clear customs and get onto the Airfrance flight to Nice. There was a guy in line with us in Flint that also had to get to Detroit. He needed to get to Newark, and Northwest had not used any lube on his poor ass either. Nick bummed a ride with us to catch a flight out at 7:00pm. We made it to Metro airport around 5:00. I figured we had rented some good kharma by loading Nick into the Malibu and carting his ass to Detroit with us. So, we overpaid for some hummous, grape leaves and booze. And then we boarded NorthWorst to Charles deGaulle airport. Imagine my surprise when we took off late. We were waiting around for some late arrivals that had to connect to our flight, and were slowed by the snow. We had four seats to ourselves, and She Who Must Be Obeyed was able to stretch out and sleep. I caught a few winks, scrunched into an upright position. Then we landed. Finding our luggage was something from a Reality TV show. We boarded a train, and re-enacted the Bataan Death March from one end of the Paris suburbs to the next. And after collecting our errant bags, missed our connection to Nice. We got another flight for later and called the car service that was picking us up at the airport. I tried calling the landlady of our apartment. I was successful at the car service, and never connected with the landlady. We got to the apartment, hours after we were expected and no one was there. The driver dropped us at a hotel around the corner. Here is where it should start slowing down to a sensible level of chaos. Anyone that has ever traveled in Europe is familiar with the small elevators in most places. The hotel had Half of a phone-booth hanging on a cable in a shaft. We were able to send ONE person, with ONE suitcase at a time to the fourth floor. If you remember the old logic puzzle of the fox, the duck and the sack of grain crossing the river, you have an idea how we finally got a beauty salon, a kite shop and 2 clothing boutiques up to the top floor. The front desk lady had warned me that the Wi-Fi internet connection may not work on the top floor. She was right. But I had already gone down once to get the password to try it in our room. I then packed up my trusty laptop and came down to the lounge to try. It worked. I got into my email, notified the landlady that we had missed her liaison and returned to my room. Marsha opened the door and welcomed me back and I went to put the key, with the key-fob that resembled a spare tire, on the dresser and found that the key was no longer attached to the fob. I tore apart my pockets and brief case and made my ninth trip down in the flying phone booth to the lobby. The key was in the chair that I was sitting in. Back upstairs to field phone calls to get our apartment. Heloise called and we made arrangements to meet her in 30 minutes. She showed us around this great place that we had rented. Apartments are the only way to do this. There is plenty of space, and a cork-screw. So, Tuesday morning we moved in to our apartment. We walked around the corner to a great super market to get the basics for breakfast. No, we didn't buy bread there. There is a bakery around the corner from us. But, the grocery store...it is wonderful. If you live in Mid-Michigan, you know VG's. This place is a French VG's. We could easily cook for royalty from their shelves and coolers. Beautiful produce, spices, herbs, cheeses, meats, wines, coffees, candies, and housewares. We finally made it home. And, of course, she is taking a nap. . |