Fourteen hours ago I boarded an RER train for the Paris Charles DeGaulle airport. I’m currently ensconced in the TGIFridays in terminal A in the Newark Airport. (What do I see? A real knife? Oh that’s right, I’m outside of airport security.) My flight from Paris got here at 2PM; my next flight leaves at 8:30PM. I’m a little loopy, so I ask your indulgence.
There is a certain groove you have to accept if you want to travel a lot. And the groove is: There are going to be detours. You are going to get lost. You are going to be frustrated, tired, bored, and homesick. You are going to be embarrassed. And you need to take all this negative nonsense with grace and aplomb for the positive to enrapture your travels.
Here’s are some universal rules for international travel:
Rule #1: Some people, even in the “service industries” are not helpful to tourists. Case in point: the desk clerk at my hotel who was clearly annoyed that I hesitated to take an 8:15AM 25€ ($40) shuttle (“we’re very busy!”) for a flight that left Charles de Gaulle at 1PM. She also neglected to tell me that I could pick up a train to the airport a block away from the hotel for €8.40.
Rule #2: Things don’t always work the way they were designed. I arrive at the train station, correct change in hand, to buy a ticket to the airport. There is not a live person selling tickets at this station. There IS a machine, but it only takes credit cards and it will not take my credit card, as I don’t have the electronic chip that French credit cards have. How am I to buy a ticket? I know that my subway tickets will get me onto the train platform, so I use one to get to the platform. I plan to buy a ticket to the airport later. I literally squeeze onto the train in the morning rush hour heat and crush. I can barely get in far enough for the doors to close. When the doors open for other stops, I cannot move. People exiting cuss at me anyway.
Rule #3: There will be surprises, and people won’t always be nice. When I boarded the train, it was clearly marked that Charles de Gaulle airport would be its destination. But several stops from the airport, the train stopped and a recorded announcement reported that it was the “terminus.” I exited in onto the platform, and looked for another train to the airport. One arrived within minutes. A nice young man opened the train door for my luggage and me. The step up was a couple of feet, and I have short legs. Unbalanced by my luggage weight, I fell onto the floor of the train car while climbing in. The nice young man smiled in enjoyment at my discomfort and did not offer to help me up.
Rule #4: There will be surprise perks
No one asked for my train ticket to the airport, and I saw no opportunities to buy it, so I never paid for it.
Rule #5: Celebrate small gifts.
I arrived to my airline check-in counter to find that my flight was being cancelled, but that they could still put me on an earlier flight. Once the airplane doors were closed, I realized that the middle seat would be empty for the flight. A blessed little bit of room to spread out. And American carriers originating in France have better food, because it’s packed in France. And it is a blessing not to have kicking children sitting behind you on an 8-hour flight. And a couple glasses of wine help to make the flight go faster. Or at least sleep comes easier.
Rule #6: The Best Laid Plans are Laughable
Let’s see. Planes delayed by weather. Airports under construction where you have to walk outdoors with your luggage to change terminals. 45-minute layovers made impossible by late landings and slow busses to transport you to another terminal. CHICAGO O’HARE AIRPORT HAS NO TRANSPORTATION BETWEEN ITS ENORMOUS TERMINALS. (Nothing like running a mile with luggage dodging slow-moving travelers to try to catch your connecting flight.) Taxis don’t show up, get rear-ended, or stopped by cops. Drivers get lost. Busses break down. Interpreters get drunk. You are way-layed by illness in a town with no drug stores. You name it, it has happened in my travels, because the world is full of people and traveling puts you smack dab in the middle of humanity.
And thank god for it. It teaches me about my own humanity, my own humility, and encourages a little humor for a change.
Rule #7: Miracles happen when you least expect it.
My biggest recommendation to travelers: Don’t plan your days too much. Miracles happen between plans. I once went to the Italian Adriatic and mentioned to the bartender that it was my birthday. Later that evening the entire staff of the family-owned hotel and its owner broke out champagne and toasted me. Again in Italy, I was invited to a buffet dinner in an outdoor patio. Guitars broke out. I played and sang. People from neighboring high rises leaned out their windows and shouted applause. In Moscow, I had been separated from my luggage for three days. By mere happenstance (no cell phones, no planning) I literally ran into the person that was bringing my luggage to me (it’s a BIG city, folks). In pre-Katrina New Orleans, I stumbled into a St. Patrick’s Day parade. In Mexico, I’ve slept in the Chiapas jungle in a hammock and marveled at the pure white light of the moon. I regularly have homeless people that have no idea where I am going walk up to me in train stations and give me unsolicited but valuable information about train platforms, cars, and how to get where I’m going. Angels are everywhere if you care to look.
Bon journeys, my friends.
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