|Photo by Mary Vee|
I am sitting in the Chicago airport at this very moment. Hubby and I arrived an hour ago. The announcer said our flight to Paris would depart from gate H3. We had 3 hours to get there. How hard could it be?
We gathered our things and walked into Ohara airport's terminals and looked for a monitor to confirm the information. Of course, Paris was the ONLY International city not listed. We saw a courtesy desk with two elderly volunteers. "Can you tell us which gate is for the flight for Paris?" The man looked at his pad of paper and said, go to gate K19.
The answer seemed reasonable. But we had our doubts because he had his information scribbled on a small pad of paper. Halfway to gate K19 we saw a booth with American Airlines courtesy phones. We called the airlines and asked, what gate we should go to. The person said, "The gate has not yet been assigned." Really?
Hubby and I walked a few gates farther and found an American Airlines worker at a desk. We asked her what gate should we go to for our flight to Paris. "Gate H15," she said.
Touring Ohara airport might seem like a really good idea. After all, exercise is needed before sitting in a plane for nine hours.
Hubby and I walked back to the beginning of terminal K and headed for H. Gate 15 was at the end. AND there was an available worker there. We showed her our boarding passes and asked, "Is this the gate for Paris?" She tapped a few keys on her computer and said, "Yes."
Hah! We found it before the flight left. Yeah!!!!
|Photo By Mary Vee|
#2 According to our tickets and the information on line, our nine hour flight would not be serving any food. Hubby and I went to the food court and found several options for dinner before boarding.
A huge crowd stood in front of the McDonalds. Mostly Chinese people. A small group lined up for the Manchu Wok next to the McDonalds, all American. Guess which restaurant we ate at? The orange chicken was delicious.
|Millesime Hotel, Paris, France Breakfast Room|
A fabulous place to stay
#3 The first morning at our Paris hotel we went to the basement for their continental breakfast, which was quaint and very delicious. While eating our meal a couple came in. The female was clearly an American. The male seemed Chinese American. The French lady in charge of the breakfast asked them, "What room is charged?" in French.
The Chinese man: clearly unsure what she said answered, "One."
The American lady said: No, eleven.
The French lady: totally confused asked again but in English. "What room are you staying in?"
The Chinese man: Uno
The French lady: still confused asks to see their room key. "Oh, room eleven. Very good." She smiled and went about her work.
I have absolutely no idea why the Chinese man answered in Spanish, or why he kept saying one when they stayed in room eleven. The French lady was a gem and dealt with the situation professionally. Well, I thought it was funny. :)
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