I looked out the window at 5:45 this morning and saw our taxi already waiting in the street below. We had requested the taxi for 6:00, and he was early. Do they run the meter if they are early but the passenger is on time? Don’t know - we seldom travel by taxi. We zipped the last suitcase, turned out the lights, set the heater to “vacation” mode and headed down the stairs. We arrived at the airport with prompt dispatch and checked in without incident, except that when I went through security, I set off the alarm. I was patted down and the woman found my pedometer. When she asked me to reveal it, I knocked it off my waistband and she immediately stepped back. I collected it and showed her what was. She finished the patdown, looked at the pedometer, then whispered to me that next time the pedometer should go through the scanner, but that I did not need to go back and send it through again. Since it was off, I crammed it into my purse and joined Roger who, uncharistically, had no problem with security. Usually if one of us is going to have security issues, it is Roger. He discovered later that he had left his watch on going through security and it hadn’t triggered the alarm. Who would have thought? We had time to kill, and roger reminded me that my boarding pass still did not include Cincinnati, so I went back downstairs and stood in line again. There was very little problem getting my pass printed, then I headed upstairs for a second trip through security. I had nothing with me but my passport and boarding pass, but I still set off the scanner. I was approached by the same woman who had patted me down before, and I indicated that it wasn’t my pedometer because I didn’t have it on. She said no problem, this was routine, patted me down without finding anything, and waved me on through.
We arrived at l’Aeroport Charles de Gaulle on time, with almost two hours to catch our plane to Cincinnati, although boarding was scheduled to start in one hour, at 9:30. We deplaned and had to spend a few minutes locating our departure gate. In fact, we had to stop at an information to desk because we were unable to locate our flight on any screen. The guy told us E47 and pointed the way. L’Aeroport Charles de Gaulle has a system whereby the gates are set in clusters, and if passengers leave one set of gates (we came into Section D) and go to another section (Section E for us) they must exit the secure area, locate the proper section, then reenter through a security check. So we left the secure area and walked along, and walked and walked and walked, looking for Section E! Suddenly we came to a halt, because everyone else did too. A portion of the airport was closed, with the closure manned by beret-sporting young armed military personnel. There was no foot traffic moving, and we were puzzled as to why. Someone in the crowd told us that there was some suspicious luggage or a package which had been located. We stood anxiously as the minutes passed, all of us in the same boat (but not the same plane!). As we watched the soldier pacing, at one point I thought “how nifty he must feel to be so young, and yet so powerful as to be able to stop all traffic through the airport!” Not only was passage through both floors of the airport forbidden, but the motor traffic outside the airport past our terminal was stopped as well. It appeared that the sphere of activity was located on the lower floor, and we were on the upper floor. After a ten- to fifteen-minute wait, someone blew a whistle, Roger saw a flash of light (my view was blocked by people standing in front of me - I need those extra five inches he mentioned last summer), then there was a loud explosive BANG! That silenced the crown for a few seconds as we contemplated what had likely happened - Roger suggested that an explosive charge had been placed near the package or suitcase and it was then detonated, destroying the item and its contents. I had a vision of fragments of clothing and personal items wafting through the air. After several more moments, the soldiers lifted the block and everyone rushed past toward his/her flight. We got to the passport check stations, but the personnel manning these stations were not there, apparently having gone for a smoke or coffee break since there was no action. So voyagers bottlenecked again at that point, and we spent ten minutes or more trying to get through there. We were not particularly worried, although the “last call” time had passed by this time. We knew that there were likely to be a large number of other passengers in a similar position, and the plane would not take off before all of us were aboard, given the circumstances.
We finally passed all the security and passport checks, this time without incident. We moved toward our gate, stopping for a bottle of water; after all, we still had five minutes before our plane was scheduled to depart! When we arrived at the gate, our passports and boarding passes were checked twice more, then we were waived toward the ramp. We had been so focused with our concern about getting to the plane that we had not noticed that there was no plane at the end of the boarding ramp! We went to the end of it, went down the stairs, and boarded a bus which took us to a row of jumbo airplanes lined up on the tarmac a few hundred feet away. We had to climb the boarding stairs and we were finally on our plane. What a relief! Then we got to our seats, a window seat and an aisle seat on this large, eight-seat-across plane, and found someone sitting in our seat. We ousted her with grace and humor, and she left with equal grace and humor, moving across the aisle to her seat. I am pretty sure that at least two busloads of passengers arrived after ours did. As a result of the delays, our plane took off 45 minutes late. Roger had the window seat for the first half of the trip, and he pointed out tiny specks in the sea which he thinks are icebergs. They littered the ocean below looking like white confetti, but they must be as big as houses or buildings!
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| Newfoundland or thereabouts from 30,000 feet up! |
At last we were able to board our flight to Dallas, and the flight was uneventful until landing. The plane touched down and decelerated fairly smoothly up to a point, at which the pilot really jammed on the brakes, then executed a rather abrupt turn to the left. The deceleration was so abrupt that we were all thrust forward somewhat against our seat belts. Apparently the pilot didn’t realize the turn was coming up as soon as it did, and he really had to step on the brake to make his turn toward the terminal.
Finally, finally, we got to see our grandson! SUCH A CUTIE!! Ronnie and Shelli were waiting at the luggage carousel, with Shelli holding the baby. She turned him over to me and I didn’t want to let him go. I cried. What a beautiful, beautiful baby, what a fantastic moment.
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