This was the day that took us from Paris France, all the way out to Anaheim California, and due to time differences it all occurred in a single afternoon.
While our flight wasn't until around midday, the usual packing, traveltime (to airport) and checkin requirements meant a relatively
early start. Generously, Jean Marc and Krissoula decided to take us to he airport, so with a last goodbye to Barbara and Agape, and some added tension when the handle on Grants bag popped as we were packing the car and due to leave - we were off. As the previuos days post notes, our time in France was too short and we were left wondering how old Barbara would be when we saw her again; while also feeling genuinely grateful to Jean Marc and Krissoula for all the hospitality they had shown us.
Just as our trip from the airport 7 days before was not without problems, so it proved for our return to the airport. Our documentation said we were leaving from terminal B, while all signage (and Jean Marcs and Krissoula's knowledge) listed terminals 1, 2 and 3. Fortunately we had time to spare, and is always the case in these situations we were suddenly saying a rushed goodbye to Krissoula and Jean Marc in front of terminal 2.
The idiosynchracy's of Charles De Gual airport continued (see the entry for the day we arrived) when we found (after some searching) that we had to do a self checkin and take our luggage through ourselves. The bizzare element was that there were at least as many British Airways staff standing around explaining the self checkin system as would have been required to perform the usual checkin.
The flight to heathrow was a short one hour, but way too much for one woman (in thr row in front of Maria and Zoe)who was already throwing up before the aircraft had moved a meter. Fortunately no-one succumbed to the miasma arising from her locale and joined her in sympathetic vomitting. At Heathrow we had 4 hours to kill and lunch to find, before catching our fligh to LA. We elected to eat at 'The Giraffe Cafe' (We just asked around and none of us could remember the name) - the food as good, but very pricey. The irony is we were fed soon after getting on our LA bound flight. Anyway, Hearthrow was one of those moments of dislocation - large enough that it has a cultureof its own, but simply a transition point for us from one culture (France) to another (USA).
The LA flight was long and nearly subscribed, so we were unable to spread out from the centre seats assigned us. The one redeaming feature was that there was a wide selection of films available for viewing. We (Maria and Spike) ended up watching Casino Royale, The Persuit of Happiness, Children of Men, and some stupid Hugh Grant romantic comedy. Spike particularly enjoyed Casino Royale and Children of Men , because despite the fact that our destination was LA, they did not have a Hollywood happy-ever-after ending.
A point of minor humour occurred an hour out of LA after the cabin crew handed out immigration papers for America. Aparrently no-one told the pilot who preceeded to find every pocket of turbulance available, resulting in immigration papers that appeared to have been completed by a 4 year.
Getting through ustoms and immigration took so long that all our luggage had already been removed from the carrousell. All but Maria's..... Finally, getting the attention of the harrassed BA staff member we learnt that Maria's luggage was one of a dozen or so peoples luggage that had not made it out of Heathrow. For 'our troubles' BA gave us a credit card with $50 on it and promised tne luggage would be delivered to our hotel when it arrived. Not happy Jan!
Then (Spike) ignoring Jen and Scotts advice to catch a cab, we caught a shuttle out to Anaheim.
This prooved to be a mistake because the driver circled the airport again and again until the shuttle was full...you can imagine how crankey Maria was!! Rightly so! The drive was long and by the time we got to the hotel everyone was asleep or drowsing.
credit card was declined by the hotel.
No comments:
Post a Comment