First Impressions

Posted on December 20, 2008

As we flew over the Atlantic, relatively warm compared to the -61F outside the plane I thought about the impressions I’ve had of Paris and the sorts of stereotypes and generalizations I suppose I, like so many people must have of this place. I was momentarily distracted when I saw on the display that we were approacing Ireland. I peeked out for a glimpse of that Emerald world but saw only clouds. It’s alright, though…Ireland is definitely for another day.

The ride was bumpy at times but mostly easy going. I sat next to a man from Florida who’d traveled extensively in a sort of serenditpitous way. Once to Australia for a wedding, once to London for work, a slew of other places for this and that and now finally a vacation to Austria and the surrounding areas for a month. His mother had married and Austrian so it made the time easier. All in all, I can’t say enough nice things about Air France. They were courteous to a fault, were prepared (pillows and blankets on every seat when we boarded) and everything entertainment-related was included. This included a host of new release and popular movies, video games, music, full meal at dinner with wine, and breakfast as we woke. And I flew coach.

I was uncertain about dinner so I grabbed something in Atlanta before I headed out. It worked out since dinner was a bit later on the flight but it was worth the wait so far as airline food goes. The mal consisted of a seared chicken breast with paprika, potatoes with a light onion cream sauce, cripsy green beans, bread, cheese, a chocolate coffee brownie, pudding and drink (wine, soft drinks, water, beer) followed by coffee or tea. As the sun rose over the eastern shores, I woke to fresh diced fruit, yogurt, a chocolate chip muffin, orange juice and coffee or hot chocolate. Seriously? I don’t eat this well at home, muc less on a flight. So bravo, Air France.

We arrived right on time and remarkably I went through customs without so much as a twtich. The agent was friendly (tip: greet people in France. They expect it and think you rude if you don’t…which may account for how often people think of them as the rude ones.) I’ve learned this quickly…the tone of the greeting (while almost always bonjour) seems to set the direction and tone of the conversation. I suspect this is true in most cultures but it seems very much the way of things here. The people I greet with a friendly and easy hello have been exceptionally pleasent to me. The rest of the airport was easy…my luggage came out quickly and I used a pay phone to call for my shuttle, since I couldn’t figure out how to dial toll free on my cell. He arrived as planned and off we went.

Before I leave the airport, though…I have to say there really are som striking differences that caught me as I walked and waited. The first was that while there was the usual confusion you find at any airport in any city in the world, there was an obvious purpose to everyone and everything. I soon learned this is also very much the way of transit in Paris. It’s chaotic and wild, but directed. More on that in a moment…the second, and the one that really struck me was the presense of the Gendarme at the airport. Soldiers in urban fatigues, lean and obviously serious and confident about their ability to maintain control, and very armed with lightweight urban assault rifles at the ready. Not strapped to their backs or at eas, but in hand in a position ready to fire if need be. The even odder thing was how little attention they drew from everyone. Just a part of the motion that is Charles de Gaule.

And then the stearotypes got seriously correct. My shuttle driver, thorough and effient not only looked like an Andretti but drove like one as well. We only nearly crashed once but watching him weave in and out of non-existent lanes, cut right only to go around the back way and squeeze in was like watching a master painter. The man was a god behind the wheel, and moved through alleys at a rate near suicidal, only to find perfect timing to stop for any pretty young woman trying to cross the street. LOL My shuttlemates (one couple from South Africa, one from Germany) were morbidly silent but I couldn’t help but be amused. I got here safe and sound and with my first adventure of the day. I also learned that almost no one honks at you…unless you’re doing the one sin in Paris driving: not moving. Cut in, weave, ignore your lane, cross three to go left at the last minute then swerve right back to get ahead? TOTALLY OK. Not go on green, DEATH SENTENCE. I *heart* this place already. lol

So now I’m at the Westin, a block from Rue de Rivoli and the Seine, Louvre and a million other things I must see so I need to head out and see them! The room is nice, with an incredible shower and a neat view (pics below) through a balcony over the street. I have the doors open to hear the Paris street sounds and so far they’re everything I expected.