Home sweet home

As I suspected, after sleeping for three hours, I started waking up every hour. The alarm was set for 4:45, but when I looked at the time, and it was 4:40–just get up Britta.

I was showered and dressed and ready to go by 5:15, but I waited until 5:20 to go down stairs. I asked reception where to get the shuttle, and it was parked in the circle out front. I went out to stand in the fresh air until the driver came, knowing I would be cooped up for many hours to come.

I think I interrupted his breakfast, but promptly at 5:30, we set off for the airport. I like to be an hour and 15 -20 minutes early to beat the crowd who comes an hour early. My strategy worked well as I had my bag checked before lines started forming and headed to security.

Some rude teenagers butted in front of me to be with the rest of their group. I thought just try that in the US. I hoped for no drama at security but just when I thought my backpack was clear, it got flagged. The guy put it through again and when it came out the second time, I was ready when he looked up to see whose bag it was.

We went down to the end of the table and he began going through my backpack and taking things out. My fruit. My noise canceling headphones. My travel sound bowl. No, not the travel sound bowl. But he knew what it was and sent the bag through again, and then I was good to go.

Next stop was the water fill station for my water bottle. It’s interesting that most of the other people were reusing like an Evian bottle and not a personal refillable bottle. The flight boarded quickly and we had an on time departure and arrival in Paris.

As usual, we deplaned on the tarmac and got on a bus to the terminal. A police car pulled up and I thought well maybe there just some extra security today. But a woman stood at the bottom of the stairs, and they went up and started stopping passengers. The bus pulled away before I could see all the drama unfold. At least I don’t think anyone died this time.

At the terminal it was not well marked of how to get front terminal 2 F to terminal 2 E, but I knew it was on the second floor, so I went up one level and found the signs. I had to go through passport control and then, oh goody, I was in the luxury shopping area. I found the Air France lounge and picked what I hoped would be a quiet spot. There were two men sleeping on the couches behind me and except for some light snoring they were quiet. I had breakfast and FINALLY some coffee. I worked on my blog for awhile and then got out my yoga mat and did some stretching.

The four hours and 20 minutes went pretty fast. I headed towards the gate, but swung a detour into duty free shopping. I just had to have some more of that refreshing herbal face spray. I got in line at the gate and due to being prepared with my boarding pass and passport, I was the first one on the plane.

I got settled and eagerly awaited take off, a meal, and then time to sleep! All that went as planned. Unfortunately my tv wasn’t working so no foreign films for me to watch. Going west always seems to take longer and I was watching the clock which, of course, did not help. At least the wifi was working so I was investigating Alliance Francaise in Philadelphia to see if I could attend some events when I get back.

I got through passport control easily again

My bags didn’t some up right away and when they did the little one was stuck to someone else’s bag via the zipper. I grabbed my larger suitcase and then ran around the carousel so I could intercept the small one again and try to disengage it. That was a bit of a tussle, but mission accomplished.

Where they re-examine your bag, no one stopped me so I just kept walking. This is one of the times when being invisible as an older woman works to one’s advantage. Unfortunately, my Amtrak train was delayed, and I had three minutes to get to the station, if I wanted to catch an earlier one at 3:27, which was impossible.

I made my way to the air train station which takes you to the Amtrak station. As I passed a security line for international flights, the woman managing the line was barking out orders to show your passport. Welcome to New Jersey.

I expected a bus because they are doing construction on the Air train, and that was my experience when I left. But the train was supposed to be running, except it wasn’t.Then the train was running, so we got on. Somehow the driver went the wrong way and we had to get out at parking P3 and wait for a train to take us back to P4 and take a bus from there.

Wait, no the train is down again, and they said they were working on getting buses. Go downstairs and go outside and wait. I thought about getting an Uber and many people did. But my Amtrak was further delayed so I wasn’t in a hurry. I looked up to the tracks and saw the trains were running again, so I went back inside. I was able to get on another very crowded train to P4. It’s really total chaos by now.

At P4, they are rushing us off the train like it’s going to blow up. Wait over here for NYC. A train finally came, but I had not positioned myself well and got crowded out with all my bags. Another train came, thank god, and it was not crowded. Finally I am at the Amtrak but that train is further delayed and short of cars so they were sending messages to rebook but none of the other trains had seats. I print out a paper copy of my ticket and to kill a little time.

At 5:25, they announced the 5:27 arrival of the regional train to DC. I know it stops in Wilmington and guess what? Now they have seats! I’m standing on the platform booking another ticket just as that train arrives. I was able to cancel the other and get a full refund because I had paid extra for that. And this ticket was half the price. Damn these pricing and seating algorithms.

I made a girl move her stuff so I could have a seat. That’s the oldest ploy in the train travel book, and I wasn’t having any of it. She was not happy about it, but at this point ask me if I care. The conductor told her to take her feet off the seat in front of her and she didn’t, so I surmised she wasn’t a very pleasant person.

From there, things got back to normal and I arrived in Wilmington around 7 pm. I needed an Uber to get home. Cemal, a very nice young Turkish man picked me up and we had a pleasant chat world religions and that some Greeks thinking Cyprus should belong to Greece.

Finally, at 7:35, I was dragging my suitcase up

to my front door. I was greeted by one of my kitties and evidence that they had been rowdy while I was gone. After minimal unpacking, scooping cat litter and vacuuming around their box, it was off to a nice hot shower, two fingers of bourbon neat, and my own bed!