adventures with my baby: getting there

The flight with C was fine. She might have even loved it as she doesn’t usually get so sleep all the time ON her mother – I usually put her down once she falls asleep. This time I just held her because there was no where to be and nothing to do but wait until the plane landed in Paris. Her ears were never an issue as she sucked away at her pacifier throughout take off and landing although I had to encourage her to keep sucking and not fall asleep during take off. Beside us on one side was a very helpful lady who used to work for Y!Mail and now lives in Germany. She had an accent and appeared to be reading Chinese.

On the other side was a couple with a small 14-month old who was not as well behaved as C, but almost as cute. At one point she pulled her mothers straight blonde hair right from the top of her head. I don’t know how her mother would have reacted if it hadn’t been public – she was pretty mad. I was feeling particularly tolerant of C tho she only really cried once and did sleep a little. The bassinette was a lifesaver!

The landing was one of the roughest I’ve felt to date – I thought the plane would tip over. Good thing the babies were strapped in. my belt was accidentally very lose, and I slid almost out of my seat.

Air France played a couple very bad-looking movies and a nature program. So, I didn’t watch them. Yet the flight still went by pretty quickly – maybe we slept. I have no idea. The food was remarkably bad, but I enjoyed champaigne as an appero and red wine with dinner.

Customs, bag collection, etc. all went smoothly and took forever. I was worried about taking a taxi because we didn’t have a carseat, and drivers can be so crazy. I also wasn’t crazy about the fare for just us 2 (50 euros, I was guessing). So I thought we should take the bus. The one that goes to Nation is the 351 which, it turns out, is a local bus, and CDG is a long way from Paris. But first, we had to find the stop!

Yeah that took about 45 minutes. The bus stop was on the 5th floor above the train station, but I didn’t realize that we couldn’t just take any elevator that went to the 5th floor to find the bus stop. First, we found the place where the taxi drivers hang out.

But before that even, the information desk gave us the wrong info and said Air France bus #3 went to Nation. Turns out it just goes to the other airport (Orly, for about 20 euros). Fortunately we didn’t get on the bus because a nice Berkeley-type lady and her preteen son set us straight. I then asked tourist information, and she was much more helpful even selling us a “carnet” (10 Metro tickets, 12 euros), 3 of which got you into Paris on the 351.

A couple from Utah also waited for the bus, which took about 30 minutes to come. I enjoyed the company, but I don’t know how they selected a hotel at Nation for their first visit to Paris. While we waited, C lost her cool because she was starving. There was nowhere to sit and nurse her so I sat on the edge of a luggage cart. She was also on her 3rd outfit since we left home, after 2 massive diaper blowouts, and I hadn’t found socks for her (the previous 2 outfits had been neck to toe pajamas). I tried wrapping my scarf around her cold little feet but she hated it and it didn’t stay on. Eventually I figured out that I could put her little feet in the pockets of my sweater and they would stay in and keep warm.

So the bus ride took about 1.5 hours as we meandered through suburb after suburb. I was reminded of the people in front of us in line at Tourist information who had a 4-hour layover and wanted to sit in a Parisien café for some of it rather than just sit in the airport – was there someplace closer than the center that they could go? “No,” said the lady, and I agree. “You should go all the way into the center to either Les Halles or Bd. St. Michel.”

As a bus line should work, it was nearly empty at first, the filled up right as it crossed the boarder into the City where most people got off at Gare du Nord or shortly thereafter. A woman with mismatched shoes and missing teeth ran for, and caught, the bus at one point. I nursed C near the end, and no one seemed to notice – it was her first time eating on a bus. A lot of people rode the bus until the end of the line at Nation. My huge bag and the space we took up with our stuff irritated the other passengers who wanted to sit in the space we collectively occupied (C+me + our stuff).

The 15-minute walk from Nation to J&G’s was not that difficult with my baby, backpack, tote and wheely bag tho originally I had intended to take a taxi for that short distance. So we arrived without significant incident – except maybe the lack of socks and that all together it took 2+ hours longer than a taxi would have. As my friends from Utah pointed out, we started our tourist experience of seeing Paris.

J&G’s place is always a magnificent oasis in the heart of a major bustling city. You can see the sky and hear birds. Equally charming is the sound of men playing ball in the parking area below and the chime of the church bells.

Sidebar: I wrote this as C slept. Just now, I mirrored her as she stretched after the nap, the kind of nap the often begins right when I’m ready to leave the house, but away, she kept looking where I was pointing with my stretching arms. She understands pointing! I never read that that was a developmental stage, but I don’t think she’s always understood pointing.

…Which is to say that we should leave the house now, and I’ll finish my story another time.