Departures and arrivals

 Wednesday, 20 April 2022, 9:25am. 

The Uber pickup and drop went off without a hitch. Susie and I woke up about 0300 before the alarm went off, got dressed and made a final inspection of the condo. Uber notified me that the driver was going to arrive early and so he did. (The Uber app is trés slick, very intuitive and doesn't rely on Google Maps, thank god!).

We were dropped off at the GR airport at 4:30, and checked in soon after. Although quite a few folks were traveling at such an early hour we were through security and at our gate in no time at all. 

The flight left on time and less than two hours later we found ourselves wandering around aimlessly at Charlotte Airport. (The place is HUGE, but well signed.) For reasons unclear to us the agent at GR could not check us in through to Munich -- although our luggage cleared that hurdle -- so we had to find an American Airlines customer service desk in Charlotte. That done and with boarding passes in hand we made our way to the Amex lounge to hang out for the next six hours or so. . . 

concourse E as seen from concourse D (Amex Lounge)

our Boeing 777 Dreamliner

We boarded on time, found our seats and settled in for the next 8 hours or so. Fortunately I had booked Premium Economy and out of 18 seats in that cabin only ten had been sold so we had plenty of room to stretch out (so to speak) and enjoy the flight. 

The onboard evening meal was mediocre but the service was pleasant and the onboard entertainment stellar: I watched the new Dune (part one apparently) and Susie and I both watched JLo and Owen Wilson in Marry Me. It was no Notting Hill to be sure but the music was good and Jennifer Lopez was terrific. 

Thursday, 21 April 2022,  0700 (Munich time)

After a relatively smooth flight with minimal turbulence we arrived in sunny Munich on time, slid through passport control with no problems (they didn't seem at all concerned about our vaccines cards), collected our bags and made our way to find the train that would take us into the city. I took the opportunity to let our landlord know we were in town and hoping to be at the apartment within the hour. A 45-minute train ride followed by an even shorter taxi ride and voilá! There we were standing in front of Prestalozzistrasse no. 18. 

Our hostess Agnes met us at the main door and took us through the courtyard to our apartment. (You can find the deets on our home for the next week right here: https://abnb.me/1lZJxRX3dpb.

We barely settled in before we laid down and took a much-needed nap - having the foresight to set an alarm giving us about 2.5 hours of the sleep we craved so much at that moment.

Once we were up, we unpacked, showered, changed clothes and headed out to buy some groceries for our home for the next week. We found a wonderful market just 3 minutes away, 

Edeka Market

After returning to the apartment and dropping everything off, back out we went to explore the neighborhood. Just two doors down from no 18 was the pleasantly funky Aroma KaffeeBar where we stopped to sit, relax, drink some spectacular coffee and eat freshly baked pastry.

Refreshed and refueled we pushed back out into the sunshine. 

After a ten minute stroll down our block (and the blocks hereabouts tend to meander every which way) we found ourselves at the Alter Südlicher Friedhof (friedhof is German for cemetery) literally just around the corner from our place. Naturally we wandered in. . . 

Two minutes after leaving the friedhof we were back home in time to catch up on various settling in tasks.

With early evening came a belated hunger and so we opted for one of the local eateries; in this case Junge Romer, a place known for its fresh pasta, tasty pizza and friendly and incredible service. 

We were lucky enough to score a free table inside the small cafe -- outside was too chilly for us although the outdoor seating would be full by the time we left. I had a ragu du carciofi (artichoke) and Susie had a delicious pistachio pasta, all washed down by an Aglianico red wine from Campania. 

After dinner we strolled for a just a few minutes through the cemetery next door before heading home.

So, all-in-all not too bad for our first day in Munich -- we had no idea there was so much to experience right in our neighborhood. 

It wasn't long before our bed called to us ever so persistently and of course we had no recourse but to oblige.

Tomorrow it's off to the Marienplatz, getting our transport passes, visiting the Alte Pinacoteke, strolling around the old town, spending time in the English Gardens and who knows what else?

Stay tuned!

Paris to Grand Rapids in 36 hours

Orly

When we woke up Sunday the weather had turned a bit foul with a chilly rain. A good day to leave France, I suppose. We had another in a long line of leisurely breakfasts and enjoyed just hanging out with the MacDonalds. They’re returning to the United States this summer so we won’t see them again in Lille.

Eventually it came time to say goodbye. We grabbed our bags and walked the five minutes or so to the parking garage. Five minutes after that we were on our way out of Lille and with the help of GPS on our way south to our hotel near Orly airport.

Since we had a Monday morning nonstop flight to Newark (where we left our Subaru for the drive back to Michigan), we thought we’d stay by the airport Sunday evening and made reservations at the Novotel Rungis (Rungis is where the food wholesalers moved when the Les Halles in central Paris was closed in 1971).

After an uneventful three hour drive we found the hotel, checked in and dropped off our bags. We then returned the car to Avis at the airport, a bare 2 kms away — finding the correct road to the rental car return was a small ordeal in and of itself since construction is in process for the 2024 Olympics. But we triumphed once again and finally made our way to the shuttle pickup point and back to the hotel.

That evening we had a quiet meal — quite a good one at that — at the hotel and went to bed early.

Monday we were up early, showered and after breakfast caught the 7:12 shuttle to Orly. Making our way to the British Airways desk we had a short wait before they started taking checkins. But we were soon through airport security with boarding passes in hand and off to our gate. Boarding was to begin at 10:15.

10:15 came and no announcement; 10:30 nothing. Finally at 10:45, 15 minutes before departure they announced our flight was cancelled due to “technical problems” and we would have to go down to baggage services, retrieve our bags and back up to check-in to rebook.

So began our odyssey to get back to the United States. After waiting for two hours in line we were rebooked on a flight from Charles de Gaulle to JFK via London Heathrow. How we were supposed to get to Newark was never explained.

Anyway, after much confusion, lack of guidance and general chaos we were bussed to the northern part of Paris, checked in, dropped off our bags and boarded the short flight to London. We had to dash from Terminal A to B at Heathrow’s Terminal 5 to our connecting flight as they were just getting ready to close the doors.Whew! - we made it.

More than seven hours later, at about 9 pm we landed at JFK and were pushed through the swarm of immigration control. We were eventually declared fit to enter the United States and retrieved our bags. We were pretty tired by this time and had decided earlier to book a room near JFK for the night and make our way to Newark the next day. We had to take the air train to a central shuttle location and call our hotel (the Crowne-Plaza JFK). They soon arrived and before long we were checked in and in bed.

Somewhere along the way we learned that the only shuttle from JFK to Newark required going to the Port Authority in Manhattan and then connecting to Newark. Nope, not going to do that. So the next morning after breakfast we had the hotel arrange a car service. Our driver, a former professional cricket star from Guyana whose heritage is Indian soon picked us up and after 45 minutes of stress-free driving as he calmly talked about his life and engaged us in casual, friendly conversation, he dropped us off at our car park near the airport.

His name is Marlon Isaac (business name) and you can reach him at 347-403-2533 or Mkalli691@gmail.com.

We loaded our bags into our car, paid our bill and headed off to make our way to I-80 and Michigan. Eager to get home and tired of eating on the road, we opted to drive straight through, which we did. With both of us driving off-and-on some twelve hours after leaving the carpark in New Jersey we pulled into the parking lot at Meijer, our go-to grocery store near our home in Grand Rapids, to grab a couple of essentials for breakfast.

Fatigued and now both under the weather, since I had been thoughtful enough to give Susan my cold, we were thrilled and thankful to be home.

It had taken some 36 hours to get from Paris to Grand Rapids. We won't do that again anytime soon if ever.

Boston to Lille leg 13-14 September

Our flights in Boston and London departed on time and each arrived a few minutes early. The long leg across the Atlantic was superbly uneventful, although about midway we started experiencing some on-again, off-again turbulence.

Still, that slight bit of nuisance didn't prevent Susan from sleeping for just about the entire flight.

As for me, even though I could stretch out I couldn't close my eyes to the point where I even tried the sleeping mask but couldn't get my head wrapped around the concept let alone the odd feeling of wearing a mask when it's not even Halloween.

To me, Terminal 5 at Heathrow is still  bit confusing. In fact it seems to be a conglomeration of not one but three terminals, now referred to as A, B and C Gates. You have to take a tram from one to the other so I'm at a loss to see how it's just one terminal.

Also there was scant information on the electronic boards when we got off the plane compounded by no direct signage telling you where to go to get that elusive connecting flight.

Finally, and this really baffles me, even though we were not leaving the country and didn't have to go through passport control we had to go back through security again. Is it just the locals being overly cautious or what? I thought it odd.

Fortunately we didn't have long to wait for our flight to Paris and before long we were zipping across the English Channel and in less than three-quarters of an hour had landed at Charles de Gaulle airport. (Coincidentally, the very next day we would actually find ourselves standing front of de Gaulle's birthplace in Lille.)

We soon found ourselves in a queue for passport control, along with 40 or 50 other folks and there was only one border police window open. Oh boy this had "Problem" written all over it. Yet the line moved right along and before long two more windows opened and we soon found ourselves standing in front of a lovely young woman with widest smile and the most pleasant attitude. We quickly passed through.

We were officially in France.

Next up, getting our checked bag.

Our experience in baggage handling at CDG in past years has been less than stellar but this time was very different. In fact, we had no sooner found a place to sit near our baggage carousel and wait before they started off-loading luggage from London and voilà! there was our bag. So off we went in search of the TGV station and our train to Lille.

And once again we found ourselves waiting -- we hadn't counted on getting our luggage and gliding through Passport Control so quickly this time; waiting, waiting, waiting, all the time sitting with a cast of thousands from all over France (if not the world) waiting for a train to take them somewhere, anywhere but where they were at that moment: Nantes, Bordeaux, Nice, Marseille, Lille, Brussels, Strasbourg. For us it was Lille, of course.

Three hours passed rather quickly -- perhaps we were still in a fog from traveling for two days -- and before long we were in our seats aboard the TGV for the 50-minute trip to Lille, the train sliding past lovely pastoral countryside some of which we hoped to revisit at a more leisurely pace with Richard and Pauline next week.

After arriving at the Lille Europe station (there two stations in Lille, the other being Lille Flandres) we made our way up the escalator along with what appeared to be half the population of Lille, and there was Christina and her two children, Kiera and Liam waiting for us.

A quick 15-minute walk and we were at their apartment in the centre ville. We were home. It felt good to be in Lille.

At the British Airways Lounge, waiting

So, right now we're sitting in the BA lounge at Logan Airport, enjoying the comfort of just relaxing before the long-haul flight to Paris tonight.

It has been another gorgeous day for travel.

After our arrival yesterday afternoon and a wonderful meal last night we slept in followed by a leisurely morning doing very little. A high point of the day was a superb lunch provided by the Dorothy VandenBerg One-on-One Catering Service. She provided homegrown tomatoes, red peppers and cukes with sliced avocados, onions and pita pockets accompanied by a large tub of hummus. The three of us (Dick had to go to school) sat outside for this scrumptious lunch, joined by lovely breezes and perfect temperatures.

A little before 3 pm (1500) we loaded our stuff into Dor's car and she hauled us to the Logan Express shuttle at Framingham. We said our goodbyes -- still leaving our return plans through Boston up in the air -- and were soon aboard the bus.

After a quick 30-minute ride we were soon cruising from terminal to terminal at the airport letting people off until the bus dropped us off at Terminal E for British Airways.

Five minutes later we were checked in -- although we were not given seats together for some reason -- and soon making our way through security. The lines were short and, since we were traveling business class, shorter still.

Everything went like clockwork until we reached the second TSA agent who had apparently missed his calling as a storm trooper. He pointed out to Susan that her name was misspelled on her boarding pass and that she had to return to the BA counter to straighten it out.

Back we went to the BA desk where the agent just wrote the correct spelling in ink on the boarding pass and said that if the guy had a problem we were to return and one of the agents would escort Susie through security.

Back we went through security -- still a breeze -- where we found that the first TSA agent was gone and had been replaced by a fellow who had a sense of perspective and waved Susan through.

After a quick frisk -- why is it I never get the young girl to frisk me? -- we made our way to the British Airways lounge to hang out, have a bite to eat and prepare ourselves for boarding - which will happen within the next hour or so.

The lounge is packed but the service folks here are unflappable, incredibly accommodating and helpful. And did I mention friendly?