More than Turbulence

I finally made to la belle ville de Paris! I am now collapsed in my comfy twin bed that will be mine for the next three and a half weeks. Awe--the view of the Eiffel Tower from the balcony cannot be beat--but it was not easy getting here, I tell you! I feel like I have been traveling for days. Yesterday morning, I boarded an early flight from SLC to Boston. I found my seat and looked over to see the guy next to me. He had just cut his hand underneath the seat and it was dripping blood. The flight attendant rushed over, "Do you need me to call the paramedics?" He looked up with a funny expression. "No, I just need some band-aids, please." I guess in society today, you always have to offer to the paramedics, even just for a cut. He just finished bandaging his hand, when the lady behind me put her toddler right on top of my seat. He grabbed my hair. She laughed, "Isn't he a cutie? He loves your hair too!" I didn't think he was a cutie. I was tired and just wanted to sleep. Nice for me, I got to hear him cry and have him kick my seat for that 4-hour trip. Needless to say, I was very happy to get off that flight and onto the flight to Paris.

The flight to Paris was pretty smooth. There was a French teenage girl next to me who wouldn't stop crying. I wondered what her story was. Why would she be sobbing like that? Is she missing her friends from the USA? Is she scared of flying? Did she just get dumped by her boyfriend? I thought of asking her what was wrong, but that could have made her even more upset. As we arrived at the gate, I thought to myself how happy I was that I had pre-reserved the Paris Shuttle to take me to the hotel. (When I came in 2009, I jumped on the metro with all my bags and it was crazy.) I got off the plane this morning and followed all the signs directing me to Paris Shuttle. As it turns out, I followed the wrong signs. I took off into Terminal 3, the Railway Station, which was far away from the arriving planes. I picked up the pay phone and called the number that I had used to reserve the Paris Shuttle. It was a free 0800 number, thank goodness. The lady who answered got frustrated by the fact that I was not in the usual pick-up place in Terminal 2. I told her that I would take the airport subway back to Terminal 2, but she insisted that I stay in Terminal 3. She asked where exactly in the terminal I was. I tried to explain but she insisted I ask somebody around me for directions. I saw a guy walking out of the bathroom. I shouted at him, "Where are we?" He looked at me funny, "Terminal 3." I told her that. She finally just said to wait outside by the taxis. I waited for 15 minutes. No shuttle. I called again. Frustrated lady. Frustrated me. Waiting outside in the rain. Still no shuttle. This happened over the course of TWO HOURS! Every time I called she said that the shuttle would be arriving to pick me up in five minutes and then hang up. Once or twice, the lady said that the driver couldn't find me, but to stay put anyway. I felt so alone. I looked at all the people coming and going. They all knew exactly how to get where they were going. I was stranded with a French lady getting more and more upset each time I called to tell her that I was still waiting. I always suggested that I go back to where the shuttle usually picks up guests but she refused. She kept saying that she didn't want me running from place-to-place. Finally, I just decided that I was done waiting. I got back on the Airport express train and went back to Terminal 2. I called the lady from Terminal 2 to tell her I was waiting there now. She was so upset that I disobeyed her orders to stay. Hello! I waited there for two hours! "Madame, we will send one more shuttle to try and find you, but this will be your last chance!!"

I cannot tell you the sigh of relief I felt when I finally saw the minivan with Paris-Shuttle on the side as it pulled up. I ran to the guy with my confirmation paper. Finally! Get me out of here! He looked at it and said, "No, you reserved with parishuttle.com. We are a different company--we have a hyphen in our name." He then drove off. What the heck? Who was the crazy person that decided to have two Paris shuttle companies competing with a hyphen of a difference?! Could it get any worse? Well, to make a long story short, my plane arrived at 7:00am and by 11:00, I was finally on the correct shuttle. I I did get a nice tour of the city on my drive to this hotel. If a trip starts like this, I can't wait to see what other adventures are in store now.