Samedi

We have returned to Chicago a few hours ago. A nice flight back but the trip from the morning in Paris has stories! Last night I said goodbye to Paris? What? I was still there and more adventures to follow! Checkout was fun as I kept surprising the guy behind the counter with French. He was getting quite a kick out of it after a while. Not surprising, they did not make any adjustment for not giving us the big room on the top floor the first 2 nights and stuffing us into a regular room. Being Paris and not the US, they just don't view that as an inconvenience and not necessary to make an adjustment.

The shuttle arrived a little late but it was Saturday morning and Paris was still asleep. He stopped at a hotel nearby to get a schedule for the terminals and flights. What an unusual event! He was 21, we learned later, and really quite the energetic young man! He loved Bruce Willis movies - all 4 Die Hards, and cars and futball. When the Mazaratti came up behind us on the freeway, he pulled to the next lane at top speed so it would pass us and we could see it. Wow. What a sight. And the engine sounds! Too cool. I could not see the somewhat lesser sports car tailing it by just a few feet. OK, rewind. When he pulled to the side of the road and said he’d be right back (now a 2nd time) and dashed to a café with a counter on the sidewalk, ordering a café and croissant, now THAT is something you never expect to see! Ric and I really got a kick out of it and I wish I had raced up to order my own!

He commented on how they drive like lunatics, but then proceeded to race thru the mostly empty streets, nearly taking out a car on the expressway – not much different than those he complained about. Originally from Marseilles, he much preferred the quiet, ocean life to the crush of Paris, but a job is not easy in Marseilles.

I got into a big conversation with one of the flight attendants who also loves Paris and things French. It started when I saw her toss an unopened, individually-wrapped President butter gastromonique pat onto the cart rather than toss it into the trash. She keeps them and gets quite a haul sometimes. “Those Frenchies sure to know their butter fat!” She said she would get me some and later did not charge me for my 2nd 1664 bier. I got about 15 of the butter pats and I promised to think of her each time I ate one. We shared Paris and Parisian stories for 15 minutes, I am sure.

A safe landing and Sharon picked us up. A wonderful trip, for sure. I will still add stuff over the following days as I fill in stories and events skipped or simplified before. More pictures, of course, to follow. I hope you have enjoyed these as much as I did writing them.

Bonsoir!