Home again...

Home again. So so so so glad to be back. After getting up at 7:44 Paris time ( don't ask me, I set my alarm to random times, otherwise it is too easy for me to calculate how long I have to sleep in and it gets me up.)  Packed, cleaned house, ran some errands, and then viola. It was on the Roissy bus. For those who don't know why it is called the Roissy bus, it is because Aeroport Charles de Gaulle is located in the lovely industrial hamlet, Roissy.  So a quick way to throw off the tourists, and leave space for the residents, is to name it something different. Anyhoo, it is quite enjoyable to go to the airport on. Every time I have been on it it hasn't been too crowed (well except once) but it still got us to where we were going.  So the bus which is about a NYC short block long wove through tiny streets that I would feel uncomfortable driving a  mini down, and plopped right down outside Air France.

Inside the terminal, after I checked in and was strangely not asked if I planned to blow anything up or down, I went through the security checkpoint which airlines in the States need to take a look at Air France's operation. There is no messing around but at the same time it is quite enjoyable. They help you dump out your pockets, offer you a seat to sit in, and booties to wear to walk across the floor through the metal detector. On the other side, they offer you a seat again, and pull your items off for you so you can get your things together, and all this, without a cavity search. Who knew it was possible? After making my way through I settled on the mall er um waiting area outside my gate. I wonder how well these shops are doing, as the only ones I saw people in were Dior, Hermes, and Prada. What you say? You were in the airport? Yes, I was. Duty free, you've got to love it! And, there was a surprising lack of tacky I (heart) Paris paraphernalia. So by now it is about 4:30. All of the above took me only two hours. Why did I need to get there so early again?

Two more hours waiting, and then upon boarding the plane sheer terror of realizing I had booked myself the seat  in the dead middle of the plane, but God smiled down and my two seatmates on either side were no shows! Yes! I didn't sleep a wink so I could crash later at home and get my circadian rhythm to where I wanted it to be.

Out of the plane, filled out 3 forms for immigration, only one of which they actually asked for. The TSA officer from Brooklyn or Queens had no idea how to speak to me, as he was incredibly confused that I was coming for Thanksgiving. I think it is because like Samson, his brain was zapped as he shaved his arms, for that forearm tattoo, bro. Then my ride promptly turned up in the NY night, we got lost for about 2 minutes and then were home toute suite!

Ahh the best place on earth.