Day 2 – Continuation of Day 1…. I’m in PARIS!!
I left off with my last post landing in Charles De Gaulle Airport. Needless to say, it was a nippy 35 degrees in Paris, France that day, and what is this Texas gal wearing? Of course, lightweight slacks, sleeveless top and a summer jacket. But hey, I’m only going to be inside the terminal, right? Nope… so wrong!
We land nicely and since I’m right up front, I’m going to be first off the plane. But I wait. And wait and wait for the plane walkway to roll up to the door of the plane. Apparently no one told the ground crew a plane was arriving at that gate. We stood at the door for nearly 20 minutes waiting on the jetway (passenger boarding tunnel as it is called by some – it’s been said that Arlo Guthrie once called it the “Time Tunnel” – I tend to believe him).
And, finally, I’m in the terminal. This is a good start, I think to myself – a nice people transporter in the middle of the wide terminal area heading toward the international gate for my connecting flight. At the international area, following the signs, we are led up a narrow, steep stair well to a maze of hallways and rope leading to the check-in area. You would think I was back in Houston waiting on the TSA agents to run us like cattle through the body scanner.
Yes, it was another frisk me – search me – pat me down scenario. Luckily, I had this lovely French lady who patted my back in all the right places… I kind of told her where to pat so I could get the most out of this search process. A good backrub, even from a Parisian TSA agent never hurts! She actually, laughingly, I might add, obliged for a couple of minutes!
From there we gathered up our belongings as we were “steered” (pun intended) toward the next stairway heading down to catch the tram for our connecting terminal. Or so I thought. The tram arrives and we step in and head on out. Move ‘em up and head ’em out! At the next terminal, I find the Air France lounge, sit back and relax for a bit. Of course, there is a wonderful bottle of French red wine inviting me to partake – it spoke my name – really! So, with glass in hand, fresh sandwiches from the cooler, a nice lemon dessert, cheeses and crackers on my plate, I sit down and people watch.
It’s time to find the boarding gate, so I reluctantly gather my belongings and head to the gate. Again, somehow, I’m first in line. I look out the window and don’t see a plane anywhere near our gate. I see the “time tunnel” dangling out there not attached to any kind of transport. The ticket taker points me down the tunnel and says turn right at the end. OK, I get to the end, turn right and there are concrete steps going down to the tarmac. I stand there for a minute, look back to the ticket gate, and look back down the steps thinking to myself, this must be the area where the ground crew goes.
Another passenger joins me in my conundrum. She also is from the states, Cincinnati, Ohio, and we both looked at each other, we looked at the steps, and took the plunge. Down we went on slippery, wet concrete steps carrying our onboard luggage. Luckily, I was only carrying my computer case, but it was heavy because I tried to put as much in it as possible!
Once down the stairs, we were guided to another walkway and another set of stairs that led down to the tarmac. I am really getting worried at this point because I have no idea if I’m in the right place. But my new friend and I stick it out together. At the bottom of the last set of stairs, there is a bus – only in name is it a bus. It is a people transport with four seats and one giant open area – just like the trams inside the terminals.
With a large step up, Ohio and I get the first two seats – YEA!! And soon, the other passengers start arriving, many of them quite elderly. One lady, shorter than me, had a bit of difficulty getting her leg up high enough to climb in. she finally got both legs up and then nearly fell backwards on to the tarmac. As she started to lean back, I jumped up and grabbed her arm to keep her from falling. There were no attendants assisting people entering the bus. There were two attendants standing on the stairs pointing to the bus so that everyone knew that’s where they were supposed to go. But no one came to the aid of this lady – at least no one “official.”
Even some of the men who had already boarded the bus just sat there. It was kind of amazing that with so many people around, I was the only one who helped the lady. Ohio said, “wow, that was a good thing you did.” I laughed and said, “Well, I’m from Texas and that’s just what we do.”
A lady behind us popped up and said, “I knew you were from Texas because I have a (cousin, sister, some relative) there and that’s the way they all act!” I replied, “Yes ma’am… we Texans are just that way!”
By the time we were ready to leave, the bus was packed to the brim – absolute sardine tin-can! And off we went… past the terminal we originally came in, around the end and to our plane. Getting off the bus, I waited to help the little elderly lady, for which she seemed very grateful. It was a long step down! Across the tarmac we walked to another flight of stairs leading up to the plane door. How many sets of stairs do they have anyway?? And, again, there was no one, no attendants, no ground crew, no one to assist any of the passengers up those long steep stairs and onto the plane.
All in all, it must have taken more than an hour from the time of on boarding to departure. But once seated, a glass of Champagne in my hand, and I was happy.
Next – landing in Mumbai!
