Back to the US of A

It wouldn't be a trip without a crazy travel story- as such, here is the true account of my trip back from Paris...

For once, the French were extremely efficient in checking us in for the group flight from Charles de Gaulle. Despite waking up half an hour late with just over an hour of sleep, taking the wrong train twice at the airport, and getting frisked at security, we still made it through in time for our flight. The flight to JFK was actually amazing since we each had our own TVs with complete with Friends, Simpsons, movies including Ratatouille, and video games.

Once I got to New York, I went to the Jet Blue counter to check in for my flight to DC, only to have them tell me that they "sent an email in October" telling me they moved the flight to 2 hours before. Aka, I had just missed it. I figured out that I could do stand by for a 5 o'clock flight (it's 1 right now) or book a 10pm flight. Since neither of those sounded appealing, I called up Delta and American to check out their flights, most of which are over $500. I called my fam and my dad suggested taking a train from Penn Station in the city to BWI. This sounded like a great idea, so I hopped in a cab and headed for Manhattan.

After a few minutes of being on the road, my dad and sister call back with arguing and commotion in the background saying that there aren't any trains out of Penn Station to Baltimore or DC. So now, I've left JFK and am on my way to Manhattan with no flight and no train. Somehow not worrying, I sit in the cab until my dad calls back and says that he found a 2:30 flight out of Laguardia to Reagan National in DC. It's now 1:30. I tell the driver Laguardia and luckily he was very nice and we were right by the airport exit. 10 minutes later I pull up to the Delta terminal and get out. Mind you I've got my 2 big bags, a back pack, a smaller bag filled with books, and a shopping bag of gifts. I waddle up to the info counter to find out that I'm in the wrong terminal because the flight I want is a shuttle flight. The lady tells me that they are smaller and usually board about 20 minutes before take off so I can still make it.

I go downstairs, find the Route A bus, and hop on. 5 minutes later I'm at the other end of the airport at this tiny terminal. It's now 2. Once I got up to the counter, it was about 2:10. I asked the lady if I could still make it and she said I could, so I check my bags, have to take out about 4 pounds of stuff from my bigger one to avoid charges, and jam it in my carry ons. When going through security at 2:20, luck would have it that I was "selected to participate in a random screening". Great, I think, I've always wanted to do this. After being padded down and having my crammed bags thoroughly searched and unpacked- it's now 2:30 and an announcement comes on: "Mr. McGowan, please report to Gate 4 or your seat will be dropped." I'm sprinting up the walkway, multiple bags in tow, sweating profusely because I still have on my pullover, pea coat, and scarf from Paris, and finally make it up to my gate. I found an open seat on the plane, dropped my stuff, and sank into it whilst I enjoyed the hour long flight to DC. Crazy day, but at least I got a story out of it...

One more entry is on the way so until then...a bientôt.

"If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life it stays with you, for Paris is a movable feast." -Ernest Hemingway, A Movable Feast