After a month away, I am back home. No thanks, however, to American Airlines.
Our hotel on the last night of the trip was The Sheraton at Charles de Galle airport in Paris. I chose this hotel after reading that it had easy access to Terminal 2 from which we would be departing the following morning. "Easy access" turned out to mean it was actually located WITHIN terminal two. Talk about convenient! I am not sure if I mentioned it previously, but the train from Provence back to Paris returned to a train station in the city center. We did, of course, have the option to take a train that came into the station located directly below the airport. But NOOOOO...that would be too easy. Since we were told by the cooking school not to make departure plans prior to 4pm, we had to take a train from Avignon to Gare de Lyon in the heart of Paris. Our arrival time was 6:15pm...rush hour. We dragged our bags once more, plopping down in the taxi line, with 4 people ahead of us. No taxi in sight. After about 10 minutes, one taxi arrived. The next arrived after another 10 minutes, then another 10 minutes, etc. Finally, it was our turn. When the driver saw two people and 3 bags, he waved us away with a gruff, "Non!" I tried my best to argue our case, saying the bags and the two passengers had been able to fit into a much smaller vehicle in Provence just a few hours before. He was not buying it and pointed to another taxi - a van - pulling up to the line. At that moment, a woman still 2 - 3 people behind us, decided to try and take the van ahead of her turn. My French may not be perfect, but rest assured, yours truly won that argument. One hour and $75 later, we arrived at The Sheraton. Needless to say, we were simultaneously thrilled to find it was so close to the terminal and horrified to find it so close to the train station we could have traveled directly to, avoiding the long drive and expense.
The Sheraton was very nice and geared toward catering to business travelers. There was a huge bank of computers with 27 inch monitors, a tower that was a charging station for every imaginable electronic device, a massive monitor constantly updating flight information on every possible airline, and 3 restaurants, including a Michelin-starred option. The entrances for all of the restaurants was in one area, manned by a small, French maitre 'd. When we approached him to be seated, he took one look at the travel-weary mother-daughter duo and said, "We have a bar serving snacks just across the lobby".
We were up early for our flight and, after one last, frantic search through terminals 2B and 2C, I was able to locate and purchase more macaroons. Our flight from Paris to Chicago was uneventful. Long...but uneventful. I watched a few movies and read a few magazines and we were there. As we taxied up to the gate, the flight attendant announced that all passengers traveling on to Los Angeles should check with her. The bad news -- Susan's flight had been cancelled and she was rescheduled to another flight, giving her a 3 hour delay. I knew i had a 3 hour wait before my flight to Raleigh was departing, so we went to the Admiral's Club, charged our phones and answered some email. When I went to my gate for my 5:15pm flight to RDU, I noticed the Dallas flight was still at the gate. Turns out, my flight was postponed and would not be departing until 6:15pm. Up to this point, I was not entirely surprised or disappointed. But then, we boarded the plane and the fun began...
Now, I have read about these flights that become "hostage" situations, with passengers trapped on the plane without food, water, or bathroom facilities for several hours. But didn't they come up with some regulation forbidding that kind of thing this past winter? First, we waited at the gate for 45 minutes. Then, we taxied out and got in line...in this case, "line" is defined as 100 other planes ahead of us (storms to the SE, runway issues, etc.) As luck would have it, getting the smart, cute man in the seat next to me on the flight going to Paris meant I would have the abrasive, aggressive, female CEO next to me going home. An hour and a half after getting in line, the pilot came over the speakers and said, "I am not sure how to tell you all this, but...". Typically, this is not the kind of thing I want to hear from my pilot while on a plane. However, since we were on the ground and not in the air, I was slightly less disturbed. Until the pilot announced we were getting out of line and returning to the gate...our long wait in line now meant he was over his allowable number of hours flying before requiring a rest period. I'm not kidding. As a totally paranoid flyer, I was not arguing this rule. But I was tired and hungry and ready to be in my own bed. Back at the gate, the pilot announced - as he exited the plane - they were going to try to find a replacement. After more than an hour and several announcements that we might be stuck in Chicago til morning (it was now nearly 10pm), the still perky flight attendant said a pilot had "been found". At this point she happened to be standing next to me, explaining to the seething woman in the seat beside me why we couldn't have anything to drink. So, I lightly tapped her arm and said, "I really hate to sound like one of those people who has to be medicated to fly...but, I do have to be medicated to fly. So, I am wondering what you mean when you say you 'found' a pilot? Was he at home, on the street, in the bar...on Craig's List?". (Those of you who have had the misfortune to fly with me can picture this moment.)
The problems continued with the American Airlines computer system going down, preventing take-offs for another hour or so. The woman next to me spent a a few hours of this ordeal trying to control the pilots, the flight attendants, and the air traffic controllers, including detailed instructions on how they could have avoided this problem if they had just planned better. I am not sure whether it was the Ativan or that you learn which verbal battles you won't win while living in a foreign country for a month, but I was very calm and quiet through all of this. Six hours after we got on the plane, we finally received clearance and took off. As the wheels lifted off the tarmac, the majority of the passengers broke into applause. "Mary Sunshine" next to me asked why I was not clapping. I explained that a celebration seemed premature at that point and that i would clap when we landed safely in Raleigh. (privately i feared the early celebrating might send the plane plummeting to the ground...perhaps the Ativan was wearing off after the long wait.). We got home after 2am and I was very happy to see my puppy and my bed.
What I learned during my month in France:
1. The majority of people in France are very friendly and are very patient with tourists trying to speak French.
2. I like Italian wine much better than French wine.
3. There is not much better than a perfectly cooked dish, especially when you have prepared it yourself.
4. I still love to learn and could cook all day, every day, without getting bored.
5. I needed to learn to slow down and enjoy moments rather than always working in overdrive.
6. Le Cordon Bleu knows how to make cooking fun, while working your rear off simultaneously. Their school is well-run and very professional.
7. There are great people and wonderful friends to be made from all cultures and backgrounds.
8. What we eat and how we live really does make a difference. Somehow, with all of the food, wine, and sauces, I lost 5 pounds while I was away. Since I had a similar experience while attending cooking school in Italy, I believe I can say with some certainty that ridding the diet of processed foods, eating fresh produce and protein, and being in an environment where a car is not an option leads to a healthier lifestyle and body. While I was in France, I did not consume a Lean Cuisine, any Crystal light or diet drinks, and there were no televisions to watch. I took the steps to my 4th (6th??) floor apartment and walked to and from meals. Very different from what most of us do each day in the US. My son, who lives in Peru, has been telling me this for years and now I am a believer, too.
I have enjoyed writing this blog and hope it has given each of you a picture into my journey.
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