May 9th, 2006
114770032133019172
Yes, yes, home already, yes
[Last train in Paris, RER B to CDG Terminal 2.]
Charles De-Gaulle is a bit of a drag as far as airports go. I arrived at the station off of the RER B train, but the transfer at Gare du Nord didn’t require a separate ticket. So since there are no fare adjustment machines at the platform, I had no apparent option to get out other than go look for a ticket counter inside the gate at another exit. Fortunately the turnstiles at all the Parisian train stations I’ve encountered are pitiful, so I used my slim body to slide sideways through the luggage vent. It’s not that I wanted to stiff RATP, I had fifty euros left, but I didn’t have the time or the patience.
I passed some very good smelling Pizza Hut on the way in, but I figured I should get to the gate first since I’d never left here before. What a mistake. It took no time at all, maybe five minutes; immigration was a joke, and the gate a mere twenty feet past the security checkpoint. Without a morsel to eat in sight, now I have an hour and a half wait with only the iPod and my notebook. I wish I hadn’t checked my cheese.
So, we were able to debunk several nonsensical stereotypes while in Paris. First of all, no one was rude to me, despite having my American flag jacket on half of the time. Waiters in run-of-the-mill cafes weren’t exceptionally cheery, but apparently they’re that way to everyone. Secondly, nothing was particularly smelly (other than the cheese, which it’s supposed to be). On the contrary, this is the most artificially nice smelling place I’ve ever visited. To be honest, it was quite interesting, though I wonder if I would ever get sick of it.
I saw my first subway rodent, a darling little mouse at Richilieu, but unfortunately it disappeared before I could get my camera out. The air was pretty filthy though, and my nose had a hard time keeping up with purification duty. The food, however, was excellent. I had French, Italian, Indian, and Middle Eastern, and all of it was spectacular, if a bit heavy at times. The Italian in particular was to spectacular, replete with succulent cheeses and filling, doughy pizzas. I averaged 1.2 bottles (1 litre) of wine and five hundred grams of dairy products daily, and I can only hope the little slices of heaven that I tucked away in my ruck don’t spoil in the heat I’m sure that I’ll have to go through before getting the power back on in my refrigerator.
