The Epic Journey (Part 2)

16 hours in. N o food....no sleep....and a viscous headache and I still have two flights to go. When I got off the plane from my eight hour flight we were immediately on the move...I darted to catch up with a group of blue jackets...I cannot imagine anything more scary that being alone in a ginormous foreign airport by myself. We made our way across the airport to customs where they didn't even give us a second glance. We then picked up ALL of our bags at the carousel. Once our group got every last suitcase we pushed, drug, and rolled our suitcases to the nearest airport map. My heart dropped to my knees when I saw where the next terminal was. A long walk and two small train rides away.

(My Terminal) I decided to face the 1 mile walk to the next terminal with two suitcases WITHOUT a cart....bad choice. Halfway through our journey those who chose carts had to ditch them. You know those annoying poles that prevent carts going places? Yes they were everywhere. And escalators. Do you know how hard it is to drag two suitcases and two carryon's up two little stairs? Not as hard as the girl who had four suitcases! This girl Melissa had a HUGE duffel that weighed 70 pounds. The strap broke in the middle of our walk and she literally dragged it the entire way to the baggage checking point. I have to admit when we boarded the small train I wasn't expecting it to go 130 miles per hour. I goes from 0 to 60 in 4 seconds. The jolt was so incredible the girl in front of me toppled into my suitcases which caused them to send me flailing to the ground. The French thought this was quite amusing. I did not.

(From Escalator) When we finally navigated to the bag checking desk we found out that in the Paris Airport all check ins are electronic. I put my passport in...once...twice...three times....Nothing. I was in tears almost instantaneously. Whether it was the extreme exhaustion or the inability to speak to anyone I don't know, what I do know is that it caused the airport staff to feel extremely bad for me. They ended up just checking my bags in free and sending me past security. Yay for crying(I must have looked super pathetic!)

This is the point where I had my first taste of France. I had Jambon et Rasin Pain and a chilled Citron. This is fancy talk for Ham on Raisin bread with a lemonade(in France everything sounds FANCY!). It. Was. Delicious. Even if it was airport food.

(The Cafe I ate at) The next two flights were kind of a blur to me. I slept through most of the first one. I was so exhausted I boarded the plane and put my seat belt on (mom be proud!)and promptly fell asleep. I cannot even remember waking up. What I do remember is that when I woke up there was almost no one on the plane. Feel free to laugh. Thankfully my next gate was not far from the one I got off. The two hour lay over was just painful. I could not sleep because I could possibly sleep right through my flight. So I sat up watching War Horse on my ipod. It just made me more depressed. The last flight was the same as the first...except the seats were really small and I was stuck in a window seat. No prob. I'll just sleep.

(Air France) Now here is where it gets really funny. When I finally walk down those final stairs to meet my family with open arms. There is no one to be seen....except a very weird old lady that smelled like onions. Don't worry the onion lady did not take me home. I wandered around to the baggage carousel and grab my bags...then I wander back to the front....wait 5 minutes...10 minutes....15 minutes....20 minutes....tears are coming....no Emily Anne calm down....look for information desk....ask where pay phones are....FOR GOD SAKE DO SOMETHING PRODUCTIVE!!!!!! I marched over to the information desk and asked to pay phones in my broken French. The lady was nice and she told me she could call my family for me. I was about to give her the number when a voice came from behind. "No not necessary. She is mine." My thought at this moment......???????? Behind me is a small man standing in front of thirteen people. Six Rotarian's, three members of my first host family, and three people from my second host family...and Philippe Baumon the District Chairman. I am accosted with hugs and double kisses. Everyone is speaking French to me. I felt faint. It turned out that They thought I was coming from Paris because my host father forgot the itinerary I sent to him. Whoops. I get in the car and my journey is finally over. Good bye planes, annoying flight attendants, and bad in-flight movies. Until next year....until next year.

(Driving away from Biarritz)