Europe by the Seat of Our Pants. Part Nine.

Saturday, March 14

Delta flight #DL119 was to depart CDG, Paris at 3:15pm and arrive at LAX at 7:13pm. Twelve hours of flight time. This will be the longest flight I have ever been on. Months back when I had gone on the Delta website to pick our seats, this flight had been the most frustrating. On all the other flights of the trip, I had been able to pick aisle seats and keep the whole group close together. For this flight, there were only four sets of seats together, spread throughout the cabin, all with a window and middle seat. I looked numerous times over the months to see if any had changed, to no avail.

I had scheduled the shuttle to pick us up at 11:00 for the fourty five minute drive. Once again, Rhonda and I had to pack in shifts as the only place to set an open suitcase was the small double bed. At this point in the journey, the dirty clothes far exceeded the clean ones, which always makes it easier, at least for me. The tough part was that we had acquired lots of stuff and getting it all in the suitcases and backpacks was proving to be fun, with a weight limit of 50lbs per bag. The Cottens had a small, handheld scale to weigh your bags with, but I didn’t want to go looking for it. Once we felt reasonably confident that we had the weights close, we made our way downstairs, leaving the luggage in the room.

I was determined to have one more sit down at Merci Jérôme. I was really going to miss this place, although my pants probably weren’t. We were becoming regulars to the women working inside. A ham & cheese sandwich and a chocolate croissant were the choice today. Chocolate is usually a choice and this place had quite a few variations. I secretly contemplated how I could get a box full home in one piece and relinquished to the fact that I probably couldn’t. Right before we walked out for the last time, a fact that we made sorrowfully known to the girls behind the counter, Julia decided that she was going to take a crack at the whole box idea. I admired her resolve, but didn’t want to be crushed if my box of perfection was.

Returning to the hotel, we went up the small elevator, an act that Rhonda still questioned every time we got in, to the fifth floor. We had been issued a standard metal key when we checked in because the card key wasn’t working. Sometimes technology takes a back seat to centuries old trusted ways. We grabbed our stuff and headed back down to the lobby. Even though we were having a hard time getting everything in the two suitcases, I was glad we opted to go that route instead of having a second one, or a herd of them like Amy and Joe.

A few minutes before 11 a black Mercedes van pulled up outside and the driver came in. I looked at the van and knew there was no way all of us and our luggage would fit inside. This wasn’t like the large 12 passenger vans we see in the US. I asked the driver if there was another vehicle coming and he said no. I pointed to the group and the mountain of luggage and he shrugged his shoulders. I had given the hotel clerk 72 Euros the night before as a down payment and he assured me that everything was set and the clerk on duty now seemed uninterested. I told everyone to being all the bags out and the driver began loading them. Evidently this guy was a master Tetris player, because he got every one of them in the back. There was even room for my backpack. I was thoroughly impressed. There were 8 seats, including a bench seat up front, so Melinda, the smallest of us, and Clint, the largest, sat up front.

The ride to the airport was uneventful and we gathered all our bags on the curb and headed inside. The Delta counters weren’t open yet, but there was a long line already that had already formed. I wanted to try one last time to see if we could upgrade our seats. I had seen a Delta Customer Service desk so I went over while Rhonda stayed in line with our bags. I received the same answer I had heard before. Because the tickets were purchased in bulk through an agency, there was no way to upgrade. I made another mental note to never book a trip like that again. I think at this point, there were at least ten of those notes filed away in my noggin.

When we got to ticket counter, we placed Rhondas suitcase on the scale and it came up three pounds heavy. Mine weighed in at 48 1/2. I tried to sweet talk the agent, but she said to try to get them even. We opened them both and grabbed a few things to put into mine. This time mine was 53. Rhonda scoffed at me and told me that I should have listened. Her boots would have been sufficient. Another shuffle and the agent nodded that would be fine. I vowed to buy a little hand scale like the Cottens had, so that we could avoid this seemingly frequent occurrence at ticket counters. After we left the ticket counter, we ran into Brent and Janet Larsen. We hadn’t seen them since the previous Tues night when we defected from the cruise ship.

Passing through Customs was quick and painless and our passports were stamped once again signaling our departure from Europe. Once we stowed everything at the gate, everyone took turns browsing the shops and using the toilettes. I still had some hard currency Euros and didn’t have a desire to take them home, so we found a shop to buy some things for grandkids. Of course the Euros weren’t enough, so out came the Darth Vader Visa card. Before we left, we had decided to open a new account. We would only take the card from that account, so as to minimize damage if it was compromised. I would transfer funds from our main account as needed. We also purchased Euros through our bank, long before we left. We never had the need to get more cash at less than ideal exchange rates. Those two choices had proven to be sound ones.

As the time approached to board the Boeing 777, the gate didn’t seem to be overcrowded. That seemed logical as the US travel ban was now in effect. The only people allowed to enter would be citizens or legal residents. Vacationing Europeans would be staying home for time being, presumably leaving open seats. I asked the gate agent one last time about upgrading, as there were surely available seats. I was told that even though there were seats available, our tickets didn’t have a breakdown of cost, so there was no way to know what the up charge would be. He also said that our economy cabin was only half full. Once again I was glad that we hadn’t tried to leave the day before. We got see the Louvre, have a nice dinner and now would have some room to stretch out on the plane for the flight home.

My Bose noise cancelling headphones are by far the most important thing I carry when I travel. I put them on when I sit down and usually don’t take them off until I am back in the terminal. A year ago, my 12 year old pair of wired ones finally bit the dust. We were in South Carolina and there was no way I was flying home without new ones. A trip to Best Buy had yielded me the new Bluetooth version. Not being tethered had its advantages. Often I could walk to the bathroom without taking my phone. All too often they had provided me protection from unruly kids or loud talking passengers.

I watched 3 or 4 movies. Ford vs Ferrari was my favorite. I listened to my favorite music over and over. There are artists that I never tire of, even after 40 years. I played Mahjong Solitaire on my phone. I played games on the seat back screen. Rhonda slept for much of the time, although not soundly. She would lay her head on my lap for a while, then her feet. She tossed and turned. I just couldn’t get myself to sleep for any length of time. Leaving Paris at 3:30pm and arriving in Los Angeles at 7:30pm meant that we would have close to twelve hours of hard core sunlight for the whole trip. If we were to get any sleep, the windows would stay closed. At some point long into the flight, Brent came over and told us to open the window shade. We were flying over ice. A check on the seat monitor showed that we were flying over the northern edge of the Hudson Bay, in the Provence of Nunavut. That is the furthest north I had ever been. Another first for this flight.

The light creeping through the crack at the window was beginning to dissipate, which signaled that we were getting close to Los Angeles. I was definitely ready to get off this flying tin can. Exiting was quick with the flight so empty, and we were walking towards customs. We entered a large room and were directed to a separate line because we had come in from France. We waited and waited and it seemed that the line wasn’t moving. It finally started to move as the agents started rerouting the lines. I honestly have no idea if we were finally mixed in with other passengers or not. The lines passed each other numerous times.

After over an hour and a half, we arrived at the passport machine to have it scanned and then an automated photo was taken. The machine spit out a small document with the photo on it. We were directed back into another line. Finally, we were at the spot where the document and passport would be physically checked. Just before we walked up, we saw that Brett and Julia were being led somewhere else from their booth.We stepped to the next available booth and handed the agent out documents. He looked at the passports and visa stamps, then asked where we had been and how long we had been out of the country. We told him and he handed back the passports and said welcome home. Clint and Melinda went through the same booth that the Cottens had, and suffered the same fate. Amy and Joe followed us and were cut loose just as we were.

When we got to the baggage claim, our bags were all sitting there, so we grabbed them and headed outside to find transportation. As it turned out, the Haggards and us had booked a hotel, with flights to Phoenix the next day. The other four were supposed to fly out that night, but missed their flights. Because they were taken to another area, their entry took another hour and a half. There was too much disparity at Customs. It was obvious that there was no real plan and each agent was treating the situation different. It was a clear-cut case of organized chaos.

Outside the four of us were tired and grumpy. Tempers flared as we tried to figure out how to get to the hotel. We finally decided to take a shuttle to a shared ride lot and loaded everything into the first taxi we could. The hotel was only a few minute drive and we were in the lobby quickly. One receptionist was working the desk and a lined formed quickly, but luckily we were in first. After we both got into our rooms, it was time to find food. It had been an incredibly long day. It was 9:45, which was almost 6am Paris time. I had been awake for about 22 hours. The closest food was a Chick-fil-A, which was a 7 min walk and they closed at 10. We hustled down the street and walked in at 9:56. I enjoyed my first Dr. Pepper in 2 weeks!

A short walk back to the hotel and I was ready for sleep. There wouldn’t be much as our Southwest flight flight to Phoenix was scheduled for 7:50 in the morning. The last thing I did was schedule a shuttle ride from the airport home. We really didn’t have anyone to pick us up and with the whole virus thing getting more and more serious, we figured it would be best to sit in the back of a van…