It’s taken a long time to revisit our harrowing return to Richmond. The seasoned travelers among you will think this is normal these days I’m sure.
Off to the airport at 4 AM excited about finally returning home. We had an uneventful cab ride to the airport with little traffic and on entering and finding we were in the right terminal asked someone where Air France was. They pointed at the longest line in the airport but we were undaunted with plenty of time to spare.
Athens to Paris was relatively uneventful and I couldn’t wait to get to Paris airport for some intense last minute shopping! Ever hopeful we boarded the plane, got our goods stowed and buckled up for the two hour jaunt to Paris. Only 2 hours so we threw everything into the overhead compartment. When the pilot came over the loudspeaker and gave us our arrival time we realized that what we thought was a 2 hour flight was really 3 hour flight. In another minute we realized that we were going to gain an hour going west and with the time change it was really a 4 hour flight!
We settled into our uncomfortable seats for the first leg of the trip, already fidgeting over the thought of four hours in them. The flight was long but uneventful and we finally found ourselves in Charles de Gaulle Airport and ready for shopping, shopping, shopping!!! We had our gate and terminal number and found ourselves with the same problem we had the last time we were here: Where’s our terminal??? After padding back and forth and after a few flights of stairs we found the most wonderful machine – or so it appeared. You simply showed it your boarding pass and it pops up a map showing you how to get to your gate! Terrific! (?) Well no; believe it or not it said, “You can’t get there from here!” We finally found someone who knew, #1 where they were, and #2 how we had to travel to get to our gate. So we were told to walk outside and turn right (no sign for Terminal 3 of course) and to walk to the next building. This involved traveling several yards to a busy street, crossing it and lo and behold, it actually said Terminal 3 in big letters! Overjoyed we entered to find a huge terminal packed with high end restaurants and shops and our gate was even close by for a change. With the mayhem finally over we settled in with two 14€ Heinekens and an overpriced, if delicious lunch.
That done it was time to shop. A big electronics store was the most captivating and I discovered a wonderful new travel adaptor and after a short struggle managed to get it ordered more cheaply from Amazon. We waited our time by recharging our computers and phones in some really comfortable chairs until our flight. Our gate changed at the last minute, but at least it was in the same terminal.
We joined a raucous school group who proved to be well behaved once in the air…until they spotted New York City.
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Even with my Global Entry getting me a little ahead of Don, I knew we were in for a rough ride at JFK. Getting the bags was the easy part. A short 20–25 minute wait and we had them, but we’d lost an hour with an Air France delay.
We found the way to re-check the bags. Another horrendous line. Computer slow and the baggage belt is broken, lots of yelling and screaming so we handed over our passports for new boarding passes and were told to “Just leave your bags in the order you came to the counter. We could see that 2 or 3 more people’s luggage and they’d be out in the hall! So we kissed our luggage goodbye as I had my umbrella in Athens and headed to security. The lines were horrendous and since Don had his Global Entry stolen it was even longer. They began calling out for anyone with less than 2 hours before their flight, which we were. Not to worry, we were told, we’d all be met by a special Delta representative after we passed security who would expedite everyone. Great idea but after another 30 minutes wasted at security no one was to be found to help. We finally found someone who could tell us where our gate was, or should I say where the BUS to our gate was. The driver seemed to be totally lost which didn’t surprise us at all as none of the buildings had any identification on them. He doubled back around and we’re giving him the benefit of the doubt that he did so to get us closer to the building; yeah, right!
Finally on the plane we had a nice a flight to Richmond, poor Don so exhausted that he slept the entire way. I would have kissed the ground on landing in Richmond but was afraid that once down, I’d just go to sleep on the tarmac.
To say we were glad to get home is an understatement but we’re ready to begin a new adventure.
Many thanks to Joyce, you too Don, for planning such a wonderful vacation!