A Paris Story

After my day of rest, I was invigorated to go out and brave the French world. I decided to start with a train ride to the Charles de Gaulle Airport. My purpose was two-fold: to practice for my trip to the Middle East next week and to pick up my plane tickets.

I caught the 297 bus from Wissous to Antony where the train station is located. My first moment of slight panic was whether the bus was going to stop at the location I needed. As we wound through Antony, everything started looking like the train station to me. Alas, no panic of any quantity was needed - the train station was a top destination point for my bus.

Next up was purchasing the correct ticket for the airport. They have automated machines where I can choose to read in English, so I started there. I found what I thought would work, but when I tried to insert the ticket, it buzzed at me. I then waited in line at the ticket booth with a real person. I explained in English what I needed to do and she explained back in French the ticket I needed. Oh well - I ended up with the correct ticket, a nice plastic ticket holder and coupons for sightseeing (although I saw later most had expired). On to the airport. . .

Charles de Gaulle rivals Chicago O'Hare in size. There are two terminals, so I needed to decide by memory which one Austrian Airlines was located in. Yea - I guessed right! I found the ticket counter and was asked for my confirmation number. Oops. I forgot all about that. The agent was unable to find my reservation. A moment of garden-variety panic set in until I realized I just needed to check my e-mail for the number.

Next up was finding the computer to check my e-mail. The great thing about the airport is there are abundant information desks for people like me. I asked and was pointed directly behind me. Oh – there it is.

In the end, I successfully acquired my tickets.