Sunday, October 8, 2017

A Pittsburgher in Paris - Escape from Charles DeGaulle

Getting to Paris was kind of like pregnancy- you had to suffer for a while before realizing the ultimate reward you were seeking.  

First of all, we had to fly to get there.  We didn’t seriously consider the alternative of of a week-long cruise ship journey across the Atlantic, so a 7-hour direct flight from Pittsburgh it was.

Things started off pretty well.  We arrived at the airport in plenty of time, got through security, found our gate and settled in to wait to board the plane. And wait we would as we were main cabin section 3 passengers.  We would be the last to board.

While we waited the flight attendants kept making regular announcements asking for volunteers to check their baggage because there would not be enough room in the overhead compartments. Our baggage was already checked so we couldn't help them out.  At the end of their announcement, they always added, rather ominously, “If we do not get enough volunteers we will be checking baggage of section 3 passengers.  So if you are in Section 3, be prepared to part with your luggage.”

So that was how it was going to be, huh?  I suddenly knew what those class 3 passengers on the Titanic felt like - stuck in steerage without the amenities of the higher class passengers.

When we finally boarded the plane we found our seats only to discover that the third person in our row had her 20-month-old daughter on her lap, and they were sitting on the aisle.  

“I apologize in advance,” said the young mother, sweetly.

It turns out that little Eva was a much more seasoned traveler than either of we were.  She’d been to and from France numerous times, including when she was in utero, her mother explained.  She was nonetheless one more extraordinarily well-behaved little body in our row.

I have to give the airline a lot of credit.  They provided a small pillow and blankets, eye masks, ear plugs, and earbuds for listening to free movies, TV shows or music that they provided, even to those of us in steerage, er, I mean section 3 main cabin seats.  They also provided 2 meals, a snack and lots of beverages.  This was fabulous. I couldn't remember being on a flight long enough to get more than one drink and a bag of peanuts.

All was copacetic until you tried to move.  There would be none of that.  By the time we were getting close to our destination, both of us were getting pretty tired of the close quarters.  

Shortly before we were ready to land, we heard some commotion coming from the seat behind us. The man sitting there started to buzz and yell for the flight attendants repeatedly.  We couldn’t see what was going on because we were immobile, but basically this man’s wife had some kind of condition that causes her to pass out when dealing with atmospheric changes.  She was semi-conscious.
 
The flight attendant then shouted, “Is there a doctor on the plane?”  And there was, and she was a rock star.  She knew exactly what to do.  The women had to lay across the row and elevate her feet above the rest of her body.  

I had questions.  If this woman had this condition, and she had experienced this difficulty on a few flights before that day, why didn’t they alert the airline ahead of time?  And even more importantly,  WHAT IF THERE WERE NO DOCTORS ON THE PLANE?

Thankfully, she recovered fully and walked off the plane under her own power, at least as well as I did after being in the same position for 7 ½ hours.  

We were pretty excited to be landing and heading into Paris. It won't be long now, we thought.

Oh, how naive we were!  In the end, it took us  FOUR hours to get out of Charles De Gaulle Airport. Most of that time was spent waiting in line to get our passport checked before we could even pick up our baggage.  

I applaud their vigilance, really I do, but maybe they could have had a few more clerks on duty.  

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