So here we are in Martha's cozy lake-side New Hampshire cottage, doing laundry and watching the light on the lake and the leaves on the trees. The flight from Paris to Zurich and then Boston was not nearly as exciting as the trip from the apartment in Paris to the airport. First in the taxi tacking us from the apartment to the Arc de triomphe to pick up the Air France bus could not get across the river -- for some reason half the bridges were closed entirely and the other half jammed with traffic. So we went instead to Montparnasse, and got the bus there. The bus wandered all over town, eventually stopping at another train station for more passengers. Then the traffic to the airport was jammed, with messages on various overpasses advising us of just how long it would take to get to the airport. When we did finally arrive, the driver dropped us off in terminal 2 -- where he said we would find Swiss Air. Not so much. Turned out we were as far away from Swiss Air as it was possible to be. So a few runs to take a train to the extreme other end of the airport, and we arrived at the gate. We had enough time for Tom to buy a sandwich, but not enough time to eat it. I figure we used 2 hours and 50 minutes of our 3 hour trip to the airport getting to the gate.
Some folks reading this blog will recall a disastrous trip we took about 12 years ago, when all 5 flights on the trip were catastrophes. This experience proves that Air France can wreck your day even if you aren't flying with Air France!
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