A Turbulent start

Today is Wednesday, our 4th day in France and finally things are starting to fall into place. It seemed that the fates were against us getting here.

We left for the airport with hours to spare. A 2 1/2 hour drive to another city's airport became a 4 hour drive. The only main route from the West to the East side of the State was closed due to a major accident that morning. Hours later it was still being cleaned up and the traffic backed up for miles. We took a detour of 20 miles that took us an hour and a half.

Finally, we got checked in and made it to the plane in time for boarding. The flight was blessedly uneventful, if not comfortable flying with the 30lbs of the boy on my lap for 7-hours. He slept and so did my legs.

As we prepared to exit the airplane in Paris, I noticed my oldest looking a bit green. She came over to me and proceeded to vomit all over the floor and her shoes, just missing my lap. A bus was to take us to the terminal. I carried the boy and his shoeless sister down the stairs to the bus and we settled in for a very short drive. About half-way there the bus stopped and we had no information for several minutes. Many people began to shout for information, but no one was telling us anything. Our connecting flight's departure time was looming. There is always the possiblity of a strike in Paris! Finally, after another 10 minutes or so, the bus driver returned and we were on the way again.

Charles De Gualle airport is a crazy maze of a place. We rushed, 3 adults and 3 children, one still shoeless, up escalators, down escalators, through security and past gates where it seemed like passengers were both coming and going at the same time.  At last, we reached our departure gate, but the airplane was no longer waiting for us.

Once a smokers paradise, I was happy to discover that it was now easy to breathe throughout the airport. The children and I waited as my husband and mother-in-law tried to get us on the next flight. The floors were slippery, the furniture hard and full of corners, but my repeated cries to my children of, "Settle down! Calm down! Be still!" were ignored until finally my 2nd daughter split her lip on the arm of a chair.

As she rest her bleeding face against my shoulder my husband returned. We decided to scrap further travels and spend the night in Paris.

To be continued...