En Route: Paris

As I shlepped toward row 38 on Air France flight 309, a face to my right caught my eye--my cousin, whom I rarely see but had seen only a week before at his sister's wedding! He was sitting in the aisle seat with his girlfriend next to him, several rows in front of me! I had wind he was going to Paris today (his girfriend's hometown) and was astounded to actually see him--well, there can't be too many direct flights to Paris from Seattle I suppose. We chatted for a bit until the drink service cart threatened to mow me over, so I retreated to my seat in the hinterlands of the Airbus A340-300.

At Charles de Gaulle, there was a flight departing for Tel Aviv around noon, so I asked if I could get on it rather than wait 9 hours for mine. The agent scanned my ticket and informed me apologetically that since it was a "cheapo" ticket (my words, I don't remember her exact term), non-changeable, it would require purchasing a whole new ticket. "Thank you" I said, "but I won't be doing that."

The B train into central Paris couldn't have been slower. It averaged about 10 mph and constantly stopped in between stations like a tired old mule. It took an hour and a half and was not air conditioned; on the upside, it was fairly empty so was decently comfortable. They must have made announcements that I didn't understand, about maintenance or some such reason for delays. "Merci de votre compréhension" sounded at the end of each announcement, and was the only phrase that meant anything to me.

I wandered around the neighborhood behind the Musée d'Orsay, where I had hoped to spend some time but seeing the line to get in, opted to ramble about the neighborhood instead. Heading eastward, I came upon a Vietnamese deli where I refueled. I made my way to Notre Dame cathedral and got in line to see the interior (rushing to catch a train last time in Paris, missed the inside). I was impressed by the volume of space, but also the volume of tourists. Maybe third time will be a charm and I will actually go up the towers, and perhaps in December.

When I arrived back to Charles de Gaulle in the afternoon, I already had a boarding pass, checked bags were in transit, so all I needed to do was find my gate and go through security. The B train was much faster this time so I had an extra hour to spare. I grabbed a disappointing espresso in the train station and went upstairs to the airport. As I found my way around, I noticed to "to boarding" area was mobbed with people. A the customs windows were closed entirely and masses of people were accumulating around the roped-off crowd control maze. I was a few million people back, standing next to some Americans who were terribly worried about missing their flight, and rightly so. They talked with an agent who was helpful and led a whole group of people on upcoming flights to the front of the line, so I nonchalantly followed, even though i had a few hours to spare. Since I cut it so close on the way out from Seattle (the usual), I felt to be extra cautious this time and not get stuck in Paris and potentially have to purchase a new ticket to Tel Aviv.

When I got to the entrance of the crowd control barriers, where they opened the customs line just for these few travelers, the agent looked at my ticket and said I must wait since I was not on one of the flights of concern. I stepped aside cheerily as I was now positioned at the front of the line for when they opened the gate for all. Not five minutes later, the first tensa-barrier was released and uncontrollable throngs began flooding into the first lane opening. The five or so agents were yelling and pushing people back as the crowd was unruly and dangerously close to stampeding. I was in the first group to enter and all in all, I came out very well, waited for a mere seven people before I got to the window, with thousands behind me! No questions, passport stamped (entry and exit all in one day!) I then fled the scene by hopping on the near-empty inter-terminal train to Terminal 2E, feeling a great sense of victory and relief to have slipped past an hours-long crowd of frustrated travelers! I arrived in the serene terminal, knowing my select row of seats by the way the afternoon sun illuminated and warmed the vibrant vinyl orange ones. Here I would take a nap! But not before consuming my cheese and bread, found in my backpack leftover from the previous flight.