We’re back! And I’m starting to upload photos. Stay tuned.
I’ll start with the first photo we took in France. Me, on the train headed into Paris.
Okay, I know, I look tired.
The thing that you’re NOT seeing here is what made me look so tired. No, it wasn’t the flight.
No, it wasn’t that it was like 5 in the morning Toronto time and I got no sleep on the plane.
No it wasn’t customs in Paris, which I have to say was something of a breeze. We walked off the plane, walked up to a guy in a booth, he smiled and said “Have a nice vacation!” and we were in.
No, the thing that has me looking so stressed, tired and old (other than my age etc.) was the FRICKIN LINE TO BUY TICKETS FOR THE TRAIN INTO PARIS!
Font does not go big enough to express my frustration.
Seriously, they have a rail connection from the airport into Paris via their equivalent of the Go Train, so you’d think that they would, you know, optimize for letting people get tickets for it.
Oh, they do, so long as you have a VISA card. From a French bank.
For anyone else, you have two options, either buy your 8 Euro ticket with CHANGE, or get in line. Now, I had Euros… but silly me, I didn’t get any damn COINS. So you’d think maybe, just maybe, they’d have a machine to give you change. No, they apparently haven’t invented those there yet. Oh, and no, they won’t give you change, anywhere. Timmi tried to BUY something to get change and they wouldn’t give her change. They wouldn’t sell to her because they sussed out that she just wanted change, the crafty minx.
So instead, we had to get in the line to buy tickets. The line that aged me by 50 years.
Seriously, there were like 20 people in front of me at the start. Then the butting in line started, and soon there were 60 people in front of me. At the time, Timmi was searching for change, and I didn’t want to end up in a French prison, so I didn’t open the can of whoopass like I wanted and tried to keep my place.
So you’d think, 60 people in line … all from basically one flight… hundreds of flights per day, they’d have this down to a science… they’d have lots of people efficiently serving up tickets, right? And you’d be wrong.
2 people. Selling tickets like the way you brush a fly off you when you’re sunbathing. THAT is why I look like I do. Fortunately, Paris had a way of healing me