Journey to Paris via London

Andy took this as we met in the airport. I am practically levitating I am so excited!

*disclaimer: warning-this post will probably bore you to tears! I am writing about every day of our trip as a personal diary of sorts. After I have it all down, Andy and I are going to take segments of it and make us one of those nice picture books. When we are old and toothless (in a couple of years ;) we can sit in our rockers and flip through them and remember... But for you, Dear Reader, you will probably want to skip this one. In the ones to come, you can just scroll through and look at the pictures!

Our Paris trip really began the afternoon of Saturday the 19th. Andrea was at her son's graduation ceremony until the very moment she needed to arrive at the airport. I was packed and ready and waiting. And waiting. About an hour before leaving I had ample time to finally get anxious. By the time my hubby came down to drive me to the airport he found me surrounded in the foil wrappers from a million left-over chocolate Easter eggs. He looked at me in my crinkly nest and asked, "Better?" Yes, thank you.

My hubby drove me to the airport and prayed for me and my journey before we smooched goodbye. Then I got out of the car and went inside with an almost excruciating feeling of anticipation. I was going on a grand adventure!

“If adventures will not befall a young lady in her own village, she must seek them abroad.” 

~Jane Austen

I was also going on my first plane ride. As Andy and I were ushered into the check-out I saw a penny and picked it up ("And all the day you'll have good luck."). It's handy that I did, because I set off my very first metal detector. Turns out a thigh wallet with a metal credit card in it is not a good thing. I also got my first pat down. Oh, the new experiences!

They also asked us if we had any food with us. Umm, yeah. Andy emptied out about six boxes worth of granola bars. I had a bag with apricots and dates, one with smoked almonds, a bag of choc covered cranberries, two Tootsie Pops, and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. (Hey, I didn't want to get hungry...) The lady didn't even bat an eye!

Highfill, AR, my stomping ground. All the little ponds looked like silver coins scattered over the earth

My first plane was tiny, but thank the Lord I had a window seat. And I mean that most fervently. Andy was so sweet and patted my arm throughout take off and the vertigo inducing sweeps of turning about in midair. I looked at her with a pseudo-smile of lots of teeth, but couldn't unhook my claws from the arm rests. Once we got up in the air and going straight I was able to unclench. The clouds! The sky! Who could be scared with such a splendid view of the world in front of their eyes? I'll admit, my fears weren't so much of crashing and burning in the plane. (I've heard you're more likely to be bit by a shark or kicked to death by a donkey than crash in a plane. And the other deaths would be much more noteworthy. "Remember how moma died on her way to Paris?" "Yeah, that bizarre donkey attack." But I digress...) It was more a fear of throwing up from motion sickness or trying to pass out due to vertigo. I brought two kinds of sickness meds to take before I ever got on the plane. And then forgot to take anything at all...

The trip to Dallas went by in the blink of an eye and so much of the time it looked like we were on an expedition in the frozen Antarctic, due to the Cyrus clouds of "ice shelves" and the cumulus "icebergs". It was very entertaining. 

The plane came to a rather abrupt and unnerving stop, and then we walked in the door of the terminal and saw a sign that said our flight had already departed and we missed it. Our names were even on it! Two other ladies were standing with us. We found that we were all from Arkansas, we two were headed for Paris, one to India, one to South Africa. We went as a united front to see what had happened. Just a glitch, we were told. (Thank heavens I don't have heart problems, or when I saw that sign I'd have been a goner ;)

We finally boarded a huge-normous plane out of Dallas. Unfortunately no windows seats there, but there was more breathing room at least. A very dapper elderly man sat next to me in sharp creased slacks and button-up, and balanced his fedora on his knee the whole way. I found out that he was going to Madrid, Spain. When we both had trouble figuring out how to extract our tricky little tray-tables from their consoles, I admitted it was my first day to fly. He smiled at that. 

On our big plane to London! Not being a selfie person I am vapidly staring into space. I thought you were supposed to look at the other person in the camera. Andy had to school me on looking at the little black circle...

While we were on our 8 1/2 hour flight something fell onto my carry-on bag. It was a British 50 cent piece. Another lucky coin to get us to London! I would have offered it back to the person in front of me, but since I believed they used euros I thought it must have been in the cushion. Later, Andy had a 2 pence fall on her bag! Double lucky. This all happened during periods of dozing induced by over-excitement and a Dramamine pill. 

The couple of times we got up to walk to the bathroom were funny, because we were both wearing the compression socks that our sweet travel lady advised (Thank you, Carrie!). Mine were black knee-highs, while Andy's were super fancy salmon colored ones that were toe-less and zipped up. It's terrible to have compression sock envy. The toilets were also a revelation. The sound of them flushing was deafening and sounded as though it was going to suck you down to the belly of the plane and throw you out into space. On one bathroom trip I crept out and stealthily sidled past the passengers on the front row. Everyone had their windows closed and I wanted very much to see the ocean as we went over. I eased it open without waking them and peeped out...to see nothing but the silvery glint of the middle of a wing. Grrrr.

When we finally set down in Heathrow, England, I seriously believe I left nail marks in multiple things. I was braced hand and foot and it still nearly severed me at the seat belt mark. Who knew they could stop so fast? But we survived, obviously. My dear little seat companion stood, grasping his hat, and said softly, "And now you are an experienced traveler." Wasn't that sweet?

Arriving in London it was around 1:15 pm, which made it around 6:30 am back home. We exited at Heathrow airport with the well-laid plan of catching the tube to London. We even managed to walk right to it. But, when we found out the tube was not in working order, my wheels kind of ground to a halt. What then?! We finally realized we would have to take the train for an extra $20. Is this where I admit that my assumption of England using euros was wrong? I mean, they are in the European Union, doesn't it make sense?! So our euros were to no avail, but cards would work for tickets. We managed to change at Paddington Station to the metro. Andy took my picture there because I love Paddington the Bear and have wept copious tears at both of his movies. (Don't judge) Luckily we could use the same train ticket for the three metros we had to take. The metro was dirty and noisy and so crowded you were usually backed up against someone with others on all sides.

 One thing I enjoyed was listening to the recorded messages. One said something in a woman's voice to the effect of- "If you see something suspicious, tell someone and we'll sort it out." Then she would remind, in her lovely accent, "See it, Say it, Sort it." So very British! There was also the stneorous male voice uttering the famous phrase, "Mind the gap!" You can be very certain that I did.

When we finally arrived at Westminster Station we were supposed to emerge and Big Ben would be across from us. We emerged and blinked in the sun. We looked left, right, straight ahead. In front of us was a sprawling building that looked somewhat like the Parliament building. Perhaps we should walk about. 

As we trotted alongside the building it sort of merged into a grand cathedral with gargoyles and all. Westminster Cathedral, right?! No, a sign declared it St. Margaret's. 

St. Margaret's Cathedral

The royal lion and unicorn

The gargoyles look like really excited hound dogs!

A turn in a full circle showed Westminster, completely dwarfed by the church I had never even heard off. I'm so sorry, England, but I felt under-whelmed by it all. London has never been on my bucket list of places to see. If I were to plan a trip to England it would be to the Lake District, with a stop to see Beatrix Potter's home. And I would love a jaunt to the gardens at Sissinghurst. Perhaps London just isn't for me.

Westminster Cathedral

I asked hoards of people about Big Ben, all  of whom were just befuddled tourists like ourselves. Finally, we found a man who told us that the big mess of scaffolding and wrap that we were assaulted with on leaving the station was Big Ben. It was under renovation. Sigh.

We decided to make a fast charge toward our train and not worry any more over non-existent landmarks. Turns out our train station, St. Pancras (I still want to say Saint Pancreas) was right beside King's Cross Station. Yes, the one of Harry Potter fame! We trotted over and admired the store (we both bought a small trinket) and then took pictures of the trolley that they have half-way into the wall at Platform 9 and 3/4. That was fun and something I will be tickled to show my grandbabies!

Selections of wands to purchase

Then into our train station at St Pancras.

Train station

 And on to the French Border Police who stamped our passports before we could board the train that would take us into France. Through the week I came to find that my greetings in French must be dead-on, because several residents struck up entire conversations after it, certain I was understanding every word they said. The border guard did this, while I smiled wide-eyed and terrified. Finally he smiled with a, "Merci, au revoir," and I sighed in relief. I understood that, and so I thanked him and said goodbye in return. Who knows what wonderful bits of wisdom he was expounding to me...

Our very fast Eurostar train

The train took us under the English Channel to France. I was so excited when I first learned this that I about passed out! What kind of fish and things would we see under there? There were even posters of whales and such on the walls. Control yourself, Dear Reader, it is only a dark tunnel, deep in the earth. Turns out they are virtual reality goggles you can rent for children and they show the creatures that could be in the waters. Humph. I managed to doze for most of it and cracked open an eye to see us come into France, my first view a beatific vineyard and winery that looked  like every ideal you ever held of the French countryside. From there on it looked much like home, only far fewer trees. There were farms, sheep, cows, cultivated fields. Was this where Paris got it's beautiful foods?

French countryside zooming by

We were supposed to reach Paris while it was still light. One thing I was adamant about was not reaching to apartment in the dark. Somehow the sun set an hour early our first night. Seriously. I watched it anxiously as it drooped lower and lower on the train. No other night on our trip did it get dark before 9:30! I think it was a conspiracy of evil to sabotage our spirits. Exiting the station we stood in a long line to wait for a taxi. It seems there are only four in all of Paris. That may be a touch cynical, but it wasn't funny the first night.

When we got a cabbie, he was very nice, and spoke broken English in reply to my broken French. Between us we got to the apartment.  It was such a relief to be there! A keypad let us into a hall, which led to an enclosed courtyard. There we entered our building and climbed one flight of tiny stairs that Andrea and I could hardly fit our (big, even for Americans) feet on. Then the door of destiny! It took a good while to open, even with the instructions to jiggle, wiggle, pull to the right and yank, et cetera. Hey, the building was built in the 1700's, the door had right to be a little cantankerous.

Sneaky little Murphy bed hidden behind a picture

And there was the apartment! It was everything I had expected; it looked just like a tiny Parisian apartment should. The beams overhead (which creeped Andrea out just a bit), were 300 years old. Older than the country I live in! This was all well and good, but it was a little after 11:00 p.m. and Andy was famished. Turns out her "real food" stomach was considerably larger than mine. (More on our stomach compartments in later days) We were going to have to make a foray into Paris at night. We were on St Catherine's Square, a car-free zone that is basically a four-sided row of cafes. There were still lots of people sitting outside them so I was hopeful. Nope, the kitchens closed at 11:00. 

We found a nice young man putting chairs up on tables and I asked were we could go to eat. He had, "Un peu Anglais", a little English, showing his thumb and forefinger together in a close pinch. But he managed to tell us to go straight, and then (a gesture to right),  "and you see building." He threw up his hands, "Beautiful building! There you find food." Bless his heart. We went straight and almost immediately found a small crepe stand that was open till midnight. We had a ham and cheese and a Nutella with strawberry. 

Andrea opening our complimentary bottle of wine to go with her crepe

Then we crawled back to our little abode (more pleading and whispering to the ancient door) and took down our sweet little Murphy bed from the wall. I had flashbacks of watching Laverne and Shirley with my moma when I saw that bed! 

Murphy bed open for the night

I was uncertain how I would sleep, but we fell into bed exhausted. I said prayers of thanksgiving  that we had arrived safe and sound and even braved the streets...and then it was the next morning and a brand new day in Paris...