Sabbatical Day 20: Heading home

We woke at 5am Paris time. I made us a cup of really strong tea while Dan took a quick morning shower. We headed down to the front desk at 5:55, paid the bill and at the same time the taxi arrived. Our drive to the Charles de Gaulle was relatively quick. It took us a few minutes to sort out where we were supposed to go and how to check in and at which gate, but the airport staff were helpful and we managed that process easily enough. Although we had TSA pre check we still had to go through a fairly extensive check in. Security at Charles de Gaulle -  do not fool around - and with my experience from Sunday still way too fresh in mind, I approached all of it cautiously. Thankfully this experience was much better. Or course it was also following protocol where as Sunday was way off protocol. Then, I was lost in the airport and going in circles through areas I didn’t need to be in. Whereas today I was following protocol, with nothing out the ordinary Thank goodness.

Well, except that the flight had changed from a Delta flight to an Air France flight, that was still being managed by Delta. That made on-line check in impossible. And, once there we were told that we would not have seats together…but we could ask at the gate and try to get seats together. 

From there we went through security, not too harsh. And then found a Starbucks for a cup of coffee and an egg sandwich. The terminal gate was nearby. As soon as an attendant showed up we went forward to request seats together. That was a long wait, but we were able to get seats together, in a two seat row, so it was just us in that section of the row, seats A and B. 

Sun rise at Charles de Gaulle airport 

We waited three hours and then boarding started, although there was no notification of boarding and nothing about boarding by areas. This was such a sharp contrast to Heathrow, where boarding was well organized by rows with requests that people “remain seated until their row was called”. Heathrow was so orderly. Charles de Gaulle was not. It was arduous and slow. So slow that I began to worry that we’d actually mis the flight while being in line to board the plane. Thankfully the process speeded up and after 30 minutes in line we were in our seats. 

The flight took off thirty minutes late, but we knew that early on. One of three pilots had become ill over night. They were going o fly with only two pilots to Boston, and then would take on new pilots. The rest of the crew remained the same. The flight over the Atlantic, from Paris to Boston was long, nearly 8 hours. I watched movies, a documentary about Jane Goodall called, “Hope”. And a George Clooney film, The Descendants,  that was described as a comedy but definitely was not. I knitted and I took Advil for some stiff muscles and aches and pains from sitting so long. 

We landed in Boston, changed pilots (apparently it was a complete pilot change not just picking up one new one, although that is still unclear). And, we refueled. We were on the ground less than 45 minutes. The flight from Boston to Detroit took about 90 minutes. Overall we were almost three hours late arriving. In the grand scheme of things, with all of the many many travel snafus people have experienced this summer, it wasn’t all that bad. 

Arriving home to our dogs who were beside themselves with glee. For about a second they were unsure of who I was and then they were crazy silly. Lila, who might have some Bassett hound in her, made the most hilarious sounds as she ran around me. Emmy, who is much older just tried to stay out of Lila’s way and still greet us. 

We had to order out for dinner, there’s no food in the house. But that was simple. We fell asleep a little after 8pm, not quite our usual bedtime. We’d been up for 22 hours. 

This morning I am drinking coffee from a mug I bought in Paris. It was three weeks ago today that I departed for this grand adventure. I am grateful for having had this adventure. I planned well and travelled well and adjusted well when COVID and circumstances required me too. I never really got lost, at least not in any way that had consequences. I did spend about an hour walking in circles in Edinburgh when google maps couldn’t direct me back to my hotel;  and about 90 minutes walking in circles in Charles de Gaulle airport looking for a way to get from one part of the airport to another in order to meet up with my husband. Those two experiences were exhausting but otherwise of no consequence. I navigated airports and planes, trains, buses, taxis, and walking in Amsterdam, Glasgow, Edinburgh, Oban, London, and Paris. 

There were moments of sheer awe that brought me to tears from the significance of where I was: the nunnery on Iona; St. Paul’s Cathedral - London; several churches in Paris; the Musee d’Orsay and the impressionists and post-impressionists; and spending my wedding anniversary in Paris with my husband. These are experiences I never thought I’d have. I am sad that I missed the retreat in Ireland, the very thing that was at the root of all of this. And now I have a ton of work to do send in information to the travel insurance company - receipts and details - but hopefully I’ll recoup some of the losses. 

The next few days will be a slow re-entry to life and work, including laundry and grocery shopping. And probably a COVID test just to make sure I didn’t contract it again….I won’t be surprised if I did considering the long hours on the plane and how many people I’ve been around over the last three weeks. The sun is rising here, 6:30am. The news is mostly awful, politics and crud regarding women’s reproductive rights and health care; trump and his legal team. I haven’t missed it at all. 

For the next few minutes though, I am just going to enjoy this cup of coffee, fresh ground and delicious.