CDG to Fontainebleau

The Start

On November 17 at 08:40, 5 minutes ahead of schedule, Charlotte Shuttle showed up to take us on a 45-minute ride to the airport, plenty of time for our 12:05 departure flight. That was good because about 4 miles down the road as we were going over our mental check lists, Dorothea (this girl is truly amazing) said, "We forgot our phones!!!!!" OMG!!!!!!!! A quick ‘U’ turn, a dash through the house, a frantic search for the phones and back on the road at 9:05 with the items as essential to life as our beating hearts.

Arriving at Ft. Myers Regional with plenty of time, we checked our bags at the curb. The Delta Skycap on parting nonchalantly mentioned we needed to present our visas at the gate. What’s he talking about?

Before arriving, Dorothea checked us in on-line and printed our boarding passes. But I was a little anxious. When doing the online check-in she found out Delta had overbooked the flight and was offering up to $500.00 to volunteers who would take a later flight. If no one volunteered, then they would start a forced bumping process. Umm, does that mean travelers using frequent flyer miles instead of cash are the first to go? 

When we arrived at the departure gate, I asked the attendant to verify our boarding status. She said we were o.k. but needed to see our passports. O.K., it’s an international flight and she’s just making sure we have the proper credentials to leave and return. Rejoining Dorothea where she was sitting with our carry-on bags, I mentioned the agent’s comment.  Thinking we had been cleared to board, she went to the agent for a final check-in. After talking to the agent, she started to wave for me to come join her. Across 15 rows of waiting passengers I jestered back to her in a language only she and I can understand; “I can’t leave our bags”; she motioned “Get over here”; I motioned “I can’t, I need to stay here with the bags”; she motioned “You better get over here right now. Don’t make me come over there!”; “O.K., I’m coming.” While we were communicating by hand signals and facial expressions, people were watching which made me feel like I was in the final scene from “Crocodile Dundee.” “What did he say?”; “Tell her he said he loves her!”; “He loves you.“; “What did she say?”; “She said tell him she loves him ”; “She loves you.”. When I finally joined Dorothea, the agent said she needed to see our visas. What’s she talking about? We don’t have a visa. She says, “You have to have a visa because you’re not returning to the US until May 2020.” I say in my authoritarian tone, “Nope, don’t need a visa. We’re going to be in the Schengen countries for only 3 months and then 3 months in the UK.” She says, “O.K., let me do this and you’ll be good to go.” Whew!

Oh Lord, please let me get to Europe without a CVE. I promise I’ll be a better person.

Our first-class accommodations on our flight to St. Paul weren’t anything special. We had more leg room but nothing extraordinary. However, the flight to Paris was something entirely different.

I wrote this early in the flight to capture the essence of the moment:

“Here I am sitting next to a beautiful woman, in my First Class Pod, on a Boeing 737, over the Atlantic Ocean at 37,000 feet, headed for Paris, sipping a Macallan Double Cask 12 Single Malt Scotch Whiskey, listening to Willie Nelson while waiting for my filet mignon dinner to be served.”

If the Catholic Church wants to attract more parishioners, they need to get away from the ‘Hell and Brimstone’ approach and adopt the Delta One marketing strategy. Offering something like I was experiencing for an eternity would no doubt bring in converts by the thousands. Allah did something similar when he offered men 20 virgins in the afterlife if they would dedicate their lives to him. Looks like that worked out well!!

Plane to Minnesota

No Worries

Boarding Call

On Board Flight to Minneapolis

Chilling in Delta Crowne Room Minneapolis

Our Pods

In-Flight Status

Over the Atlantic at 35,00 Feet

Tucked in for the night

Almost there

Waiting for Shuttle to the Car

There were a couple of hiccups’ on our arrival in Paris, but we were on the ground in France and nothing was going to stop the show from going on. We got our car and headed on a two-hour drive to Fontainebleau. It didn’t take long to reacquaint ourselves with the familiar GPS phrase: “In 300 meters, enter the roundabout and take the 3^rd exit.”

That's one! That's two or is it three? No, that's three!

O.K. Here we go!