Safe to say that after a full week in Paris, I was still anything but sick of it. In fact, if I could, I would’ve followed the path of one of the women I had met the day before and made a decision to stay for an entire year. But I had to catch a flight to Ireland.
Still, leaving the City of Love was easier said than done. I mean that literally. Carrying my two over-packed bags down from the studio I was staying in was one thing, but I quickly realized there was no way in hell that I’d be able to carry these down multiple flights of stairs and carry them onto the RER to Charles-de-Gaulle. In the end, it was for the best though, due to the enlightening Uber ride I had, with the most friendly driver, some of which you can read about here.
Eventually, I made it to Charles-de-Gaulle, and sadly made it through security in less than thirty minutes thus leaving myself with about three lovely hours to wait around doing nothing!
Things I Learned While Waiting in Charles-de-Gaulle for Three Hours
- 90% of understanding people is through facial expressions. While I can understand enough basic level French to get by in Paris, I in no way will say that I “speak French”. However, while I was lounging in an airport chair looking miserable, some woman walked over with her dog and said something quickly in French which I didn’t understand at all but took to mean, due to her face, “Is the seat next to you available?” I just nodded. She smiled and sat. Boom.
- Olive bread is life. If you’ve ever been to Paris or London, you may have seen a cute little chain cafe named Paul. There coffee is okay, but if you ever happen to stroll into one, order any of their sandwiches that happen to be on olive bread. I’ve now found a new love of my life.
- Forgetting about military time will actually screw you up. When I first arrived at the gate and told the person checking me in my flight time she looked ridiculously nervous and started ranting about how I was about to miss my flight. I was not. 24-hour military time. Learn it, and then forget it as soon as you get home to the states.
- The Jetson’s as well as most modern-day, futuristic movies, stole some of their designs from the crazy silver, in-every-way escalators from the Charles-de-Gaulle airport. (This one isn’t entirely true.)
Finally, I was on a flight to Ireland, excited to explore somewhere new but a bit sad to be leaving a city that I had fallen in love with. Fortunately, it didn’t take long for me to fall completely head over heels for Ireland while we prepared for descent, and were presented with this view.
FYI, you get a cup of orange juice and the best tasting muffin of your life while flying internal Europe flights on Aer Lingus.
Fast forward to me attempting to navigate Dublin Airport with my obnoxious sized bags. This is the biggest piece of advice I can you. I can’t even begin to count the number of people I met between airports who were on longer trips than me and managed to pack everything into one large backpacker bag, while I was miserably attempting to travel from Terminal A to Terminal B where I could catch the shuttle to my hotel.
Next time I’m following the best piece of advice I received from a fellow traveler. Lay out everything you want to bring, then cut it in half. Then, try cutting it in half one more time. I am not exaggerating when I say I only wore approximately a third of all the clothing I packed.
As I was meeting my mom and sister the next morning at Dublin Airport, I was actually spending one night at a Dublin airport hotel so the ride was only about ten to fifteen minutes. After that trek, I only had two things on my mind: food and a shower. When I finally made it down to the hotel restaurant, I found that I was correct; I was, in fact, the only person eating alone. This was made even more hilarious due to the act that everyone turned to look at me as I entered and then I was sat at a table that sat five, it is the only open table. #MakingAnEnterence #Independent
Upon realizing that everyone, including two older women, were drinking alcoholic beverages, I knew that I couldn’t justify just ordering water. Two ciders and a club soda later, I was back up in my room close to passing out.
Not much of an active day. But hey, at least there was beer.
Read about the rest of our Paris escapade:
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