Thursday, October 15th

Our last day in Paris! We begin our re-entry into the American culture by having breakfast at Starbuck's and then returning to the hotel to catch the cab to Charles de Gaulle Airport. We are treated to a white-knuckled, heart-pounding cab ride at the hands of an ancient Chinese driver who apparently had nothing to lose and was free to race like a maniac on meth through wild twists and turns on the freeway. I stopped counting our near-misses with other vehicles and tried to visualize arriving at the airport alive. Which we did.

The flight from Paris to London was lovely and stress-free.....empty seat between us, plenty of leg room, cheerful flight attendants who offer drinks and "savory nibbles". I love the name of this snack and think it might be something exotic, but it turns out to be mixed nuts. We arrive at Heathrow ahead of schedule.....and then the trouble begins.

Long lines at security, strange shuttle rides to some part of another terminal under construction and oddly far away from the rest of the action, an American teenage girl who chattered away to her silent friend ("Like, are we driving to L.A.?""Like, this is way too far, dude.""Like what were we thinking?") as the rest of us envisioned stuffing a sock in her mouth. Tense, sweating people with too much carry-on baggage, and then me being interrogated at the gate because some mysterious code appeared on the computer screen when my boarding pass was scanned that told agents I was a person of suspicion and should be questioned immediately.

I never was told what the problem was, and I did make it across the tarmac and up the steep steps to the awaiting 747, lugging bags stuffed to the brim.

Since I watched too many unrealistic movies in the 1970s, I still have it in my mind that a 747 is going to somehow be the epitome of luxury....like this, perhaps:

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But what it turned out to be was more along the lines of this.

This flight was absolutely full to the very last seat. We were seated near an extremely agitated Italian man who was yelling at the flight attendant and juggling his crying baby at the same time (the baby continued to cry for the first three hours of the flight). The air conditioning was not working sufficiently. I downgrade my expectations from scoring a luxurious row of seats all to myself in which I can stretch out and sleep, to mere survival of myself and those around me who might be harmed when I spontaneously combust.

Eleven hours with a headwind, an Irish girl with a bad cold in the seat between us, and the prospect of swollen feet and ankles from the long hours of sitting. The British flight crew is testy, surly and cross with all of us cattle in coach.

We land safely at LAX and practically explode out of the airplane in relief. It was a challenging leg of our journey, but thankfully, with time and perspective, we can now laugh about it all.

I am so grateful to have had the opportunity to take this wonderful trip. The memories will last a lifetime!

We found on our journey, as well as in the places where we stopped, that they treated us with as much confidence and good-will as if they had known us all their lives.

~Junipero Serra