I made it!

Saturday evening. I just woke up from a nap. I needed it. It seems I was totally exhausted...but the trip was uneventful. Wasteful worrying. Unnecessary fretting. The flights were smooth; I had nice seat mates. On the last leg, I sat next to a young frenchman who works for Michelin tires. I engaged him in conversation with my limited french because this is the purpose of this trip...to be able to understand a french person speaking french at the speed of light. "Tres difficile".

But I became braver. I totally talked to the cab driver on the 40 minute ride to town. I was able to ask him about the size of Paris (5 million but 11 million if you count the surrounding area), the economy ("terrible"), the price of gas (going up), O'Bama (the parisiennes love him and Michelle too) and Sarkosy...he wanted to talk about "sa belle femme" (his beautiful wife). Most of the time and especially in my case, when they hear me speaking their french, they will answer in perfect english, but my pleasant cabbie did not.

One funny thing happened to me. At Charles DeGaulle Airport, I had deplaned and was walking down huge concourses heading toward baggage claim. I was tired from a day of jangled nerves and I was desperately trying to keep and eye on other fellow travelers also heading for "livraison de bagage" (baggage claim). (The airport is massive.) At one point I was singled out and approached by a woman pleading to me, arms open wide, eyes narrowed. I looked twice, didn't understand her confusion and kept going. I did not want to lose my way to my suitcase in the airport maze. At the carousel, the "haut parleur" (speaker) announced that there was a woman acting "deaf and dumb" and operating in the airport - Beware! Fortunately, I had missed getting entangled in an unpleasant problem. It really was an end to a perfect "Bon Voyage".

Sally