Last Mango in Paris (or rather, last Train)

He went to Paris, as Buffett sang, but good luck leaving, I say.

The good news was, I got to go shopping. (Well, if you know me, you know that’s more like bad news as I really cannot stand shopping. And, I really don’t like wasting money buying things I don’t need. And doing this while jet lagged added to the pain.) But, as I flew to Cincinnati with only my carry-on bag from my trip to Paris the week of Sept 8, I needed to buy stuff. I just could not make 3 days worth of clothes stretch for 10!

What happened? Did you see the news, about the fire in the Eurostar tunnel (the “chunnel” under the English Channel that the Eurostar train uses)? Well, I had a 16:13 train out of Paris Thursday the 11th (yes, Sept 11th) and we departed just fine. About an hour into it, we stop. The announcer tells us there is a problem in the tunnel and we’ll be sitting on the tracks about an hour. After that hour, we reverse directions and head back to Gare du Nord (“North Station”) in Paris. Oddly enough, passport control was waiting and they just put two parallel lines through the top left corner of the “left France 11/09/08” stamp in my passport – that’s as technical as it gets? Two pen lines?

While on the train, I called our London office and our wonderful admin/travel woman and she helped me get a flight out of Paris Friday morning at 07:20, landing at London City Airport at 07:30. (The last flight of the night, BA Paris to Heathrow, departing at 21:55 was booked – because everyone else on a train or waiting in the station was also talking to travel agents.) Fine, I figured I could land and get to Gatwick for my 10:25 flight.

I then take the Metro to meet my colleagues/friends who were still in Paris as their train wasn’t until Friday noon. Of course, I took a few wrong turns in the crazy maze of walkways under Gare du Nord and ended up using 3 Metro tickets because I just couldn’t get to the line I wanted. I get to the station and when I come up to walk to their hotel, of course it is raining. Can I find my umbrella in my bag quickly? Of course not. So I show up at their hotel looking like a wet rat in a now sheer light yellow oxford shirt. The cover girl of fashion I tell you.

Marissa let me stay with her because I just didn’t feel like going through the hassle at the train station of booking a hotel with the Eurostar people. I wanted simple, easy, and fast. Plus, hotels were a hot commodity as the Pope was coming to town for the weekend. (Oddly enough, one of the last times I was in Paris was in 1997 with my dad and brother, just before Pope JP2 visited.)

After a delicious Indian dinner just off the Champs Elysee, we’re back in the hotel. Of course, I cannot sleep as I keep running through the timing of my 07:20 and subsequent 10:25 flights. Talking it through with Marissa, and looking up train times online (to get to Gatwick from the city), we realize that everything would have to be beyond perfect for me to make it, and even then, just barely. With rush hour traffic, and allowing for things like customs/immigration, we realized it just wasn’t possible.

So, I get on the phone with Delta at midnight – for an hour. They guy was very nice (and he was American, Delta must not farm out this service to India) and tried all he could do to help. But, he couldn’t change the departure city of the flight. He advised me to go to Charles de Gaulle in the morning and the ticket agent there could do so and I could be on the 11:45 flight. Perfect. I get about 3 hours sleep (after about 5 hours the night before due to going out for drinks after dinner at Harry’s and Kitty O’Shea’s – I know, an “American” bar and an “Irish” bar in Paris. Whatever.)

I just kept my cab for 05:00 figuring it’s better to be safe than sorry. At that time of the morning, nothing in Paris is moving, so I was at the airport by 05:25. Even the first flight out of this terminal (the Air France terminal) wasn’t until 07:15; the first Eurostar leaves at 06:43 I believe; even Starbucks doesn’t open until 07:30. Nothing gets moving early here – that will be a big adjustment for me!

I talk with the nice Delta man (first I started in French, and did quite well thank you very much; but he eventually switched to English). He couldn’t change the city of departure either since I had basically booked the cheapest fare. But, he could issue me a new ticket for either 1900 Euros or 50,000 Delta miles. As I had about 53,000 miles, I went for the latter and just paid the airport taxes. Now, I have a “return” flight from Cincinnati to Paris in February that I can change for $100 for use in the next year. Fine.

Of course I was bummed about not being able to actually have gone back to my flat to pack more clothes and things I’ve bought that I wanted to take to Cincinnati. Oh well. Now, I figure I’ve finished my Christmas shopping! Really, so long as you have your passport and a credit card, you’re all set. And, I just tell myself – it could always be worse.