Well we are back in Paris and not a moment too soon I might add. We still amaze ourselves at how comfortable we feel here, just like being home. And yet we do not speak the language (Susan does a little that's true) and have little connection with the people who live here, other than sharing the same physical space. But how right it feels to be back!
After taking the Logan Express shuttle bus service from Framingham to the airport we left Boston late Wednesday night on Air France; in fact we left on the very last flight of the day out of Logan airport. I must say there is something to be gained by flying late at night -- much less frenetic at the airport, easy walk through security and we had plenty of room on the airplane. Susie and I shared a three-seat row together on the upper deck of a 747-400. The economy seats had to have at least 38 inches! It was like riding on the train we had so much room.
The plane was dark for most of the trip -- we flew directly over Winter Harbor, Maine but couldn't see any lights on at Gerrish's cafe -- and just about everyone, us included, spent most of the next five and a half hours sleeping.
Picking up a strong tailwind we arrived about 20 minutes early, landing at about 11:30 in the morning Thursday. After passing through the dour looks of passport control personnel we picked up our bags and walked to the meeting point to connect up with our shuttle into the city. When we left Paris this past spring we used the Bluvan shuttle service -- about €29 for the two of us round trip door-to-door -- and so we set the same thing up but this time for a roundtrip. I highly recommend this service: it's a great compromise between taking a taxi (expensive) and using the RER/metro system (very inconvenient).
Anyway the shuttle ran about 45 minutes late but the weather was nice and so we sat ouutside and enjoyed sharing the second hand smoke of several hundred very nervous travelers.
Eventually the blu van arrived (and yes it is blu), our bags were loaded and we were off zipping into the city, our driver weaving through traffic seeking to recapture happier days as a Formula One driver for Renault. The other passengers aboard our jet-powered van was a mother and her adult three daughters all from western Michigan of all places; in fact they were from Grand Rapids originally! Small world. They were on a whirlwind three-day visit to the city and already loooked tired. But they were happy to be here: "Oh," one remarked again and again once we were in the city proper, "look at all the people sitting outside at the cafes." Obviously not something she was used to seeing in western Michigan, eh?
After dropping our fellow passengers off at their hotel just off the Champs Elysses the driver piled back into the van and sped us across town to the 11th arrondissement, our home for the next six weeks or so.
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