Charles De Gaulle Airport is Distilled Evil (And Other Observations)
I finally made it to Bologna, after many mishaps and misfortunes, and am now enjoying the hospitality of the Franciscan Brothers. As the computers here don't have USB ports (It's a friary - what do you expect?) it does not look as if I will be able to upload any pictures. So, before Bob and I go out and enjoy some fine food and beverage, let me update you on the trip.
I was scheduled to land in Paris at 6:20, with a connecting flight at 7:20. When I arrived at Logan, the flight was already 30 minutes late. Upon getting on the plane, we were locked down because two passengers went missing. Needless to say, I arrived in Paris without a connecting flight. The extremely helpful folks at Air France gave me the run around for one hour, and then let me stand in line for an hour, just so they could change one thing on my ticket that would give me another connecting flight. With the ammount of time it took, I had only 30 minutes to get to the terminal, which at a brisk pace took me 15 minutes. We then boarded a tram to go to the plane that literally stopped right outside of the gate I got my ticket on. Great mirth and merriment ensued, I assure you.
I did, however, make it here.
For the record, in my immediate vacinity on the long flight, I had 3 mentally retarded people (really, really, low iq, piss-and-shit-on-myself cases) and their handler. In addition, I had 2 screaming babies. At least I had an aisle seat.
I love a quiet flight.
Leave some thoughts. I leave for Rome tomorrow
(obligatory Ciao)
ps. What the hell is with this shit, everyone speaks Italian over here. I thought the American and British imperial history had fixed that
I was scheduled to land in Paris at 6:20, with a connecting flight at 7:20. When I arrived at Logan, the flight was already 30 minutes late. Upon getting on the plane, we were locked down because two passengers went missing. Needless to say, I arrived in Paris without a connecting flight. The extremely helpful folks at Air France gave me the run around for one hour, and then let me stand in line for an hour, just so they could change one thing on my ticket that would give me another connecting flight. With the ammount of time it took, I had only 30 minutes to get to the terminal, which at a brisk pace took me 15 minutes. We then boarded a tram to go to the plane that literally stopped right outside of the gate I got my ticket on. Great mirth and merriment ensued, I assure you.
I did, however, make it here.
For the record, in my immediate vacinity on the long flight, I had 3 mentally retarded people (really, really, low iq, piss-and-shit-on-myself cases) and their handler. In addition, I had 2 screaming babies. At least I had an aisle seat.
I love a quiet flight.
Leave some thoughts. I leave for Rome tomorrow
(obligatory Ciao)
ps. What the hell is with this shit, everyone speaks Italian over here. I thought the American and British imperial history had fixed that