Bonjour! Greetings from Paris! We arrived early this morning after a long and cramped flight. It was fun to listen to the stewardesses switch between English and French. Of course, once we stepped off the tarmac everyone yammered at us in French, and we quickly put our two clutch phrases to good use. "Parlez-vous anglais?" (Do you speak English?) and "Je ne parl pas francais." (I don't speak French) The usual American in Paris hilarity has surrounded the whole process, beginning with the drive to the airport.
Being good travelers, we left home with plenty of time. About an hour into the drive, we landed in the traffic jam caused by a tragic (fatal) accident on route 80. After a good long while, we got fed up with sitting in the car and watching the smoke billow, so we climbed out and made friends with our fellow stuck drivers, including a beautiful, 14 year-old, trucking daschund named Molly Mae. Our previously plentiful lead time was quickly being eaten up, and so we executed a highly practical (and highly illegal!) 3-point turn about and drove the wrong way down the shoulder past all the stopped cars! (Many thanks to Meghan's Mom!)
We made it to O'hare without further incident, but with little time to spare. In our rush to check in and get through security, we left behind two valuable (but not vital) bags. One contained our lunches, and the other contained all the lights from our bicycles.
Speaking of bicycles... The last bit of excitement that has accompanied our arrival in Paris is that our bikes did not arrive with us. We made it through O'hare security in a flash (it puts Sea-Tac to shame!) and even had enough time during our connection in Minneapolis to grab a bite to eat. But our bikes were not so fortunate, and when we picked up our luggage, the bikes were nowhere to be found. Fortunately, Northwest Airlines contracts their baggage services in Paris through Air France, which has really good customer service. It was a bit complicated to file the claim, because we did not have any lodging arranged yet, and in order to deliver the bikes, the airline needed an address. We scrambled to find a hostel, and found a room with just the second place we tried, called the Oops! Hostel, where I am writing from. It is a friendly place, with really helpful staff, LOTS of American travellers, a beautiful curving staircase that goes up all 6 stories, and a boulangerie (bakery) just across the street. (And free wireless!)
We have had a bit of a rest and some food, and that makes it seem much more adventurous than it did in the moment. When it was all happening we were anxious, sleep deprived, frustrated and crabby. Now, we're much more relaxed, and just recieved word that our bikes should be delivered tonight. Yay!
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