Going Home…

Once it is time to go home…it is time to go home!

We have four alarms set so we don’t oversleep and miss our 6am train to the airport. Well, no problem, at 4AM we are wide awake. We are super prepared to have a smooth morning- bags packed, apartment clean, whew!

Clock work. Tick tock. We are moving along the street. Make it to the train station. The train glides into the station. This is going well.

The early train has some travelers with suitcases headed to the airport- but also has a large number of people heading to work  at the factories and utilities outside of Paris, along the way to the airport. They are traveling light, quiet, and focused on the day ahead of them.

We trundle along in the dark. The train stops are infrequent and cover more distance than the in-city trains and metro stops. The announcements for each stop are only in French and there is no video monitor to show the name of the stop as there has been on the city trains. The announcements are a little longer as we travel but all seems to be going well. The train stops, hesitates a little too long , but then pulls away and trundles forward. We shoot each other a relieved glance and sigh. We will be glad to be at the airport with the security concerns growing with the Coronavirus scare, we just want to be sure we have left enough time. The travel anxiety begins to ebb away.

And that’s when it happens. The train stops at the station while the announcer prattles on. The man sitting across from us gives us the universal sign for dead- flat hand across his throat- and nods toward the door. A young woman looks at us sympathetically and in labored English says “I think you have to take a bus. The train don’t go.”

We flood out of the train and through the station to the street. It is still very dark out. There are some busses pulling in but, we soon find out no busses go to the airport. The plan has collapsed. The workers seem unfazed as we scramble dragging our suitcases back and forth searching for information, a taxi, a sign to indicate where in the world we are, as our window of TSA time ticks down.

 

At the moment all hope is fading we spot a white van with a faint green light on the top. And we run toward it. Two- two – two? The driver nods, grabs our bags and throws them into the back on top of the mountain of luggage. The mini van has three people wedged into the back seat, one large man in the center seat and another passenger in the front. We jump into the middle seat as the driver slams the door shut and like a race car completing a pit stop peels out into the dark street.

 

Is it too soon to breathe a sigh of relief? Well at least we seem to be heading to the airport. The van swerves sharply on to a ramp to the highway. Soon we are heading in to traffic seemingly en route to the airport. The driver seems unaware that he is behind the wheel of a dilapidated van, full of passengers whose combined weight would strain  an elevator car. He cruises along dodging cars and switching lanes at will like a NASCAR champion. As he drives, he begins an intent conversation with the passenger in the front seat politely turning to him as he speaks ( which is to say not looking at the road ahead). We are suddenly inches away from a large bus, but never fear, the van somehow skids across the bumper to the tight opening in the lane next to us. We wonder if we will actually reach our destination. Other passengers begin to pass their portion of the cab fare over the seat to the driver, who makes change and passes it back.

Remarkably, signage for the airport appears and the  seven passengers are all headed to the same international gate. As the van slows to pull in to an unloading spot, we see other cars and vans barely slipping past the cars around them in a frenzy to unload and get back out for another fare. We catch our bags and offer thanks that we have arrived at the airport. Despite the “disruption” of the train and our plan, we are back and pretty much on schedule.

The airport is light. People are cautiously avoiding getting too close to each other, multiple screenings and identity checks are in place (have your traveled to Italy or China?…. Just Paris? how long….check all entry stamps….) , the boarding is slightly delayed to sanitize the cabin, all good things. The concern of the Corona Virus is reaching into nearby countries. Within the past day or two the precautions are being discussed: no events with more than 1000 people  ( it was 5000 only yesterday).  In flight there is no sneezing or coughing as there often is on a winter flight somewhere. People are clearly more cautious of their contact with others and are keeping a little space.

A strong head wind on the way home made the flight about an hour longer on the way there, but all in all, a great flight. We landed at JFK and once again, things went efficiently and effectively. The concern with the virus is driving the crowds down. The airport is certainly not bustling. We are home, though, so all is well. The wine now is a little more expensive, the bread is not quite as fresh. Our deck view is no longer that of the Seine River and Notre Dame, but as Dorthy said after her own world wind of travel… There’s no place like home!

(Now to 14 days of self-quarantine…spoiler alert.. we are posting well after our 14 days, and happily we are healthy and well.. hope you are, too!)