The Coat In Paris, Part 2
Jan 2nd, 2004 | 06:42 AM
#21
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Joined: Apr 2003
Posts: 422
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New Year's Day, 2004. Snow was forecast. Grandson woke up and ran to window at 7 AM to see his very first snowfall, then turned back with a groan of disappointment. No snow.
By the time the shuttle van arrived two hours later, snowflakes were swirling down. Grandson spread his arms, turned round and round in delight, cheering.
Checked baggage three hours prior to departure time, ate breakfast, then sat in boarding area watching together as the snow began coming down thicker, faster. Big, fluffy flakes that covered the runways in white and stymied the Paris control tower.
Planes lined up, awaiting clearance and de-icing. Munich, cancelled. Stockholm, cancelled. St. Petersberg, cancelled.
The man seated next to us grew visibly more and more tense as the delay lengthened. He said he'd just flown in to make this connection and had another to catch farther along. He shuffled through some papers. Scanning the text upside down, I noted Dubai letterhead and other papers in arabic script.
A while later, I mentioned that this weather must be a change for him, compared to Dubai. He gave me a startled look, then said he'd actually been in Baghad, "working for the government".
As the daughter of a career intelligence officer posted overseas, I let the subject drop. Some people don't talk much about what they do and the answers you get to questions are often indistinguishable from fiction, so why ask?
Instead, we talked of other things, including our coincidental seating assignment.
Nearly an hour late, we received the call to board. My grandson and I joined the other relieved passengers in line, then heard our names called over the PA system.
We approached the USAir service desk with sinking hearts. What could possibly have gone wrong with our return tickets?
We were asked if we would mind changing seats as our seats were needed for someone else. Happy just to still be on the passenger list, we readily agreed.
Then, a miracle! We'd been upgraded to Business Class! Why? Don't know, except that we had the great good luck to have held seats now needed for other purposes. Security?
For the next three hours, as our plane idled on the runway waiting our turn to take off, my grandson and I incredulously luxuriated in the benefits of first class travel.
Our flight home was an absolute joy. This Christmas trip was my grandson's first travel by plane. He got to see Paris AND snow AND be pampered in Business Class for 13 hours. He had Grandma all to himself for a week. The kid's ruined for life.
As for The Coat? It stayed in Paris.
It was new, only worn for a week, with a matching fur-trimmed suede hat. The chambermaid appeared to be my size. I left both items neatly folded for her along with her tip, several unused Metro tickets, and a note asking if she might know of someone who could use the winter clothing as I was returning to a much warmer place.
I do love Paris, but learned she is easier to love in, as the song goes, Springtime and in Fall.I wish everyone who goes there the very best of times, no matter what time of year or time of life.
A huge, heartfelt thank-you to all the Fodors contributors who provided advice, encouragement, and a connection to "home". Family and friends around the world also followed my postings here.
Now, I too, will download this record of the happiest of holidays for my grandson's memory book. Thank you, everyone, and Happy New Year to you all, wherever you may be!
By the time the shuttle van arrived two hours later, snowflakes were swirling down. Grandson spread his arms, turned round and round in delight, cheering.
Checked baggage three hours prior to departure time, ate breakfast, then sat in boarding area watching together as the snow began coming down thicker, faster. Big, fluffy flakes that covered the runways in white and stymied the Paris control tower.
Planes lined up, awaiting clearance and de-icing. Munich, cancelled. Stockholm, cancelled. St. Petersberg, cancelled.
The man seated next to us grew visibly more and more tense as the delay lengthened. He said he'd just flown in to make this connection and had another to catch farther along. He shuffled through some papers. Scanning the text upside down, I noted Dubai letterhead and other papers in arabic script.
A while later, I mentioned that this weather must be a change for him, compared to Dubai. He gave me a startled look, then said he'd actually been in Baghad, "working for the government".
As the daughter of a career intelligence officer posted overseas, I let the subject drop. Some people don't talk much about what they do and the answers you get to questions are often indistinguishable from fiction, so why ask?
Instead, we talked of other things, including our coincidental seating assignment.
Nearly an hour late, we received the call to board. My grandson and I joined the other relieved passengers in line, then heard our names called over the PA system.
We approached the USAir service desk with sinking hearts. What could possibly have gone wrong with our return tickets?
We were asked if we would mind changing seats as our seats were needed for someone else. Happy just to still be on the passenger list, we readily agreed.
Then, a miracle! We'd been upgraded to Business Class! Why? Don't know, except that we had the great good luck to have held seats now needed for other purposes. Security?
For the next three hours, as our plane idled on the runway waiting our turn to take off, my grandson and I incredulously luxuriated in the benefits of first class travel.
Our flight home was an absolute joy. This Christmas trip was my grandson's first travel by plane. He got to see Paris AND snow AND be pampered in Business Class for 13 hours. He had Grandma all to himself for a week. The kid's ruined for life.
As for The Coat? It stayed in Paris.
It was new, only worn for a week, with a matching fur-trimmed suede hat. The chambermaid appeared to be my size. I left both items neatly folded for her along with her tip, several unused Metro tickets, and a note asking if she might know of someone who could use the winter clothing as I was returning to a much warmer place.
I do love Paris, but learned she is easier to love in, as the song goes, Springtime and in Fall.I wish everyone who goes there the very best of times, no matter what time of year or time of life.
A huge, heartfelt thank-you to all the Fodors contributors who provided advice, encouragement, and a connection to "home". Family and friends around the world also followed my postings here.
Now, I too, will download this record of the happiest of holidays for my grandson's memory book. Thank you, everyone, and Happy New Year to you all, wherever you may be!
Jan 2nd, 2004 | 09:06 AM
#23
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Posts: n/a
Welcome home Croque Madame! I have thoroughly enjoyed reading your saga and sorry we could not have met up somewhere for a toast to the city. Our paths must have crossed as we were both circling Deyrolle the same Sunday. I've got a not so mini report down this list somewhere.
What a thoughtful departure gift you left your housekeeper! We hung onto the two tickets remaining from our second carnet...because it will not be long before we make a return trip, perhaps, as you suggested, Spring or Fall next time around although I loved the cold this time. It'd be wonderful to see it all with leaves, and water in the fountains.
Snow...we sensed that was right around the corner (we left the 30th and it was getting much colder). I <i>loved</i> your description of your grandson's reaction, which would have been our Dallas-raised kids reactions as well. I could just picture him! I don't know if this is the card I sent you this year Judy, I normally have several boxes going each year, but one of them was a card I found in Apothecary or Restoration Hardware. The message inside was Joyeux Noel, and the black and white picture on the front was (presumably) a Paris backdrop, with about an 11 year old boy, his face turned up in a wonderful laughing smile of pure unadulterated joy, to the snowflakes falling all around him. It was almost exactly as you described your grandson!
I have a sneaky suspicion as to whom may have usurped your seat and sent you to business class! Hopefully the sheer joy of being there was sufficient to push any concerns about other passesngers into a spot which was more comfortable too. Dear me.
My husband and I were stopped for a complete and thorough check as we boarded our flight back home. Back out of our shoes, wanded, full search. lol It was too funny as the young couple boarding just in front of us were (as our son explained to me on our return) Punkers. Both with the sides and rear of their heads shaved, the top long bits of hair bleached white on her, rather harsh clothes to put it mildly, and boots that looked exactly like the ski boots we used to wear in the 60's...plus metal around the heel and toe of the enormously thick soles (useful for holding foot to bindings dontchaknow). (Hey Judy...does that sound like any young girls we used to know?
) It really was funny as here we come, 60 year old Madame Californeea Excellente in Paris black, and husband in nice pressed jeans with and an Armani sport coat. Definite terrorists.
Anyway...I thoroughly enjoyed your reports. If you don't write for a living, you might consider it!
PS...hope that rash has abated. I've had contact dermatitis and there is no itch as intense. I occasionally get it on the sides of my neck from perfume, with the itchiest bright red rash...at least yours was out of sight and not suggestive of other pleasures!
Welcome home! What terrific memories you have given your grandson!
What a thoughtful departure gift you left your housekeeper! We hung onto the two tickets remaining from our second carnet...because it will not be long before we make a return trip, perhaps, as you suggested, Spring or Fall next time around although I loved the cold this time. It'd be wonderful to see it all with leaves, and water in the fountains.
Snow...we sensed that was right around the corner (we left the 30th and it was getting much colder). I <i>loved</i> your description of your grandson's reaction, which would have been our Dallas-raised kids reactions as well. I could just picture him! I don't know if this is the card I sent you this year Judy, I normally have several boxes going each year, but one of them was a card I found in Apothecary or Restoration Hardware. The message inside was Joyeux Noel, and the black and white picture on the front was (presumably) a Paris backdrop, with about an 11 year old boy, his face turned up in a wonderful laughing smile of pure unadulterated joy, to the snowflakes falling all around him. It was almost exactly as you described your grandson!
I have a sneaky suspicion as to whom may have usurped your seat and sent you to business class! Hopefully the sheer joy of being there was sufficient to push any concerns about other passesngers into a spot which was more comfortable too. Dear me.
My husband and I were stopped for a complete and thorough check as we boarded our flight back home. Back out of our shoes, wanded, full search. lol It was too funny as the young couple boarding just in front of us were (as our son explained to me on our return) Punkers. Both with the sides and rear of their heads shaved, the top long bits of hair bleached white on her, rather harsh clothes to put it mildly, and boots that looked exactly like the ski boots we used to wear in the 60's...plus metal around the heel and toe of the enormously thick soles (useful for holding foot to bindings dontchaknow). (Hey Judy...does that sound like any young girls we used to know?
) It really was funny as here we come, 60 year old Madame Californeea Excellente in Paris black, and husband in nice pressed jeans with and an Armani sport coat. Definite terrorists. Anyway...I thoroughly enjoyed your reports. If you don't write for a living, you might consider it!
PS...hope that rash has abated. I've had contact dermatitis and there is no itch as intense. I occasionally get it on the sides of my neck from perfume, with the itchiest bright red rash...at least yours was out of sight and not suggestive of other pleasures!
Welcome home! What terrific memories you have given your grandson!
Jan 2nd, 2004 | 12:17 PM
#24
Joined: Jan 2003
Posts: 1,902
Likes: 0
Hey Croque_Madame!! Love the report. 
Just finished reading "Paris to the Moon" by Adam Gopnik this past week (a little Christmas gift to myself) and Deyrolles is mentioned several times in that. Is that where you gleaned the idea to take your grandson there?
Especially appreciate the report since I'll be taking my 14 year old son & my 11 year old daughter to various parts of England this year & to Paris!! We had planned to go this March/April but it appears we'll have to postpone until around Christmastime, so it's good to have your perspective on winter/Paris/travel.
BTW, I used to be one of those "punkers", too.
But back in the day we used to wear all black - LOL!!
Just finished reading "Paris to the Moon" by Adam Gopnik this past week (a little Christmas gift to myself) and Deyrolles is mentioned several times in that. Is that where you gleaned the idea to take your grandson there?
Especially appreciate the report since I'll be taking my 14 year old son & my 11 year old daughter to various parts of England this year & to Paris!! We had planned to go this March/April but it appears we'll have to postpone until around Christmastime, so it's good to have your perspective on winter/Paris/travel.
BTW, I used to be one of those "punkers", too.
But back in the day we used to wear all black - LOL!!
Jan 2nd, 2004 | 11:45 PM
#25
Original Poster
Joined: Apr 2003
Posts: 422
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OliveOyl! There you are at last! So glad to hear that you and Mr. Armani returned safely, despite the additional scrutiny at check-in. Those French inspection guys probably just wanted to feast their eyes on you a bit longer!
My only comparable experience was in a duty free shop at CDG. When I gave him my last thirty Euro to pay for a gift box of chocolates, the good looking young sales clerk asked for my passport, which I carry secured in a neck pouch. He watched with interest as I sighed and unzipped my sweater to reach a hand inside to fish the document out. "Madame," he offered with a grin, "May I help you wiz zat?"
Well, its after 3:30 in the morning as I type this, sitting here wide awake thanks to jet lag, even though I denied myself the pleasure of sleep yesterday until my "normal" American bedtime last night. I've got a cup of decaffinated tea sweetened with tilleul honey from La Maison Du Miel on rue Vignon and a disorienting inability to comprehend that I'm really here, not there.
It isn't easy to let go of Paris, is it?
My only comparable experience was in a duty free shop at CDG. When I gave him my last thirty Euro to pay for a gift box of chocolates, the good looking young sales clerk asked for my passport, which I carry secured in a neck pouch. He watched with interest as I sighed and unzipped my sweater to reach a hand inside to fish the document out. "Madame," he offered with a grin, "May I help you wiz zat?"
Well, its after 3:30 in the morning as I type this, sitting here wide awake thanks to jet lag, even though I denied myself the pleasure of sleep yesterday until my "normal" American bedtime last night. I've got a cup of decaffinated tea sweetened with tilleul honey from La Maison Du Miel on rue Vignon and a disorienting inability to comprehend that I'm really here, not there.
It isn't easy to let go of Paris, is it?
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