|A Los Angeles Childhood – Au Revoir Paris Part I|
|Tuesday, 05 July 2011 10:47|
It is 6 am. I am getting into a taxi outside my apartment on the way to Charles De Gaulle Airport for the approximately 24 hours in transit until I am home again in Santa Fe. It feels like such a big leap and world away that I want to say, why am I leaving, why can’t I just stay? But holidays are just that, and this one with my feet in Paris is coming to an end. It doesn’t mean that I will be disconnected. I have taken three smooth stones from Luxembourg Gardens, one of which will travel with me through my days until June comes and I return to 32 Rue Gay Lussac in the 5th arr. It’s never really goodbye but a la prochaine, until the next time.
Coming from the airport into Paris at the beginning of my holiday cost me 82 Euros and almost two hours of travel, rush hour people on their way out of the ville and to their regular mundane work a day world. Going to the airport took all of one half hour and 62 Euros. Of course I planned for 1 ½ hours so I got to the airport quite early, and I printed my boarding pass at a cyber café near the apartment so I was able to go straight to luggage check.
I am now on the way to the duty free shops with the intention of buying very fancy Paris dark chocolate for my heart sister for not killing my dog. Now if you have been following my adventures you know that my sister has had the experience of 2:00 AM wake up call, then 3, 4 and finally about 5:00 AM gives in to my dog, an extreme 10 pound alpha, and gets up. Each day when we Skyped, she showed me the dog just so I would know that she had not, in fact, done her in, thrown her out with the trash or sold her into doggie work force, getting a paper route and send her out after the first wakeup call to deliver the New Mexican which would therefore allow her another 2 hours of uninterrupted sleep. Fine, wonderful chocolates seem to be the only answer. I noticed that each day Alice b. looked a little more derelict, her coat no longer like the shampoo ads after the shampoo but more like the before, but no matter. I would be home in less than 24 hours and remedy it all. I buy the finest.
I am now at Gate 38, Air France after going through an easy airport police security check, through scanning and now the fun begins. Waiting in line is something I am not really good at but can do, and I do it without much complaint only to find out when after an hour I get to the front of the line that I really didn’t need to be in that line because my passport had already been cleared. I sat next to a woman from Brittany who is on her way to Ecuador to do a fellowship in the rainforest. This will be a two-month gig.
Back to New Mexico and Home continues tomorrow.
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