Monday 21 July 2008

Last tango in Paris



And it was a bit of a dance. I have probably mentioned this before, but when it comes to metro systems I have mastered many. I find the maps of the lines very logical and can work out a plan of where to go easily. I am the map chick after all, well not in Roma if you believe Di and not in Venice. I can even work out the cheapest way of doing it and have done successfully in Istanbul, Rome, London and now Paris. 
I get ahead of myself. From Musee d'Orsey, we caught the metro over towards Sacré Coeur intending to visit there and to see Espace Dali. We also fancied the idea of wandering around Montmartre. Wandering and watching is something I so enjoy, add taking photos to that and it is a perfect day for me. Unfortunately we ran out of time, actually after we lingered too long in the area, we very nearly missed our planes. A bit Freudian perhaps.  
Oh bugger, look at the time! We made a mad dash for the only metro station in the area that would take us directly to the hotel without changing trains. I had worked this out over lunch so poor Muzz had to trust me as we ran down the steps and onto the train. 
We ran to the hotel and while Muzz was trying to explain at the counter, I showed one of the staff where our bags were and retrieved them. We ran to the station dragging the bags, back onto the train. Oh no the wrong one, it did say it was going to CDG airport but luckily we overheard a Canadian couple asking and jumped off in time. Apparently that one went via CDG but didn't stop at the actual airport! 
We became friends with the Canadian couple as we waited. They were elderly and had decided to take several small bags on their travels instead of a bigger one each. They had discovered the basic flaw with their plan, they had to get five pieces of baggage onto the train. Together we managed to get the four of us, plus bags on the right train and off we went.
Now, anyone who know CDG knows that there are three terminals. We had made the assumption in the absence of solid knowledge, that Singapore Airlines and Emirates left from the same terminal. Arriving after the final check in time was stressful, not being able to find the check in was, well quite terrifying! 
No one we asked could help us for some reason until a nice Indian man I was a bit stroppy with when he wouldn't let me onto the escalator explained that Emirates left from a whole other terminal 10 minutes away on another train. I apologised, as I am perfectly capable of when I have behaved badly, and ran to the train leaving Muzz in my wake still trying to find the Singapore check in. 
Easy I thought, I'm 30 minutes late for final check in but it will be OK because I know where the counter is, how wrong could I be. Terminal 2 was more confusing than Terminal 1. I must have looked extremely desperate because a nice man showed me the general direction then some stewardesses showed me the check in line. Phew!
Did I mention there was a line? It was a very long line and I was the last one in it. There was a young Iraqi woman in front of me. She smiled and said, thank goodness I'n not last anymore! With that we struck up conversation, what an interesting young woman she was. It was great to share some of my Qatar experiences with her and discuss the Iraqi situation and Muslim culture with her. We had a bit of time as the check in was woefully slow. My breathing had quite returned to normal by the time we reached the front of the queue, the two last passengers. 
I was still dressed in my walking around Paris clothes so made time to get changed into some more comfy for traveling clothes. With the late check in, we boarded straight away, or rather the others did as I was getting changed. Yes, I was the last one to board but I made it! 
What a day. I was totally exhausted, feeling very sad to be leaving Europe but pleased to have some alone time. 
I had to include this bad photo of the Eiffel Tower as it was the closest we got this trip. I took this by climbing up on a high fence and perching the camera over the top of the mesh, so not a bad photo considering and a story of Paris would not be complete without it. 

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