Paris – An Assault to The Senses Part 1

Why we woke up in the wee hours of the morning to prepare for a flight that last less than an hour is beside me. With stringent airport security and increasing flying risk, however, one can never be too careful.

Nonetheless, I loathe the fact of rushing from one location to another, especially now that we bring a baby along for the ride. The airport security forces in charge of checking the infamous carry-on transparent plastic bags were also no help in alleviating the burden. Since the EU regulations flyer that we obtained from my husband’s school didn’t actually specify the ‘ideal size’ of those darn transparent bags, we had to part with my daughter’s shampoo and bath gel!

While my husband was still unloading the laptops onto the conveyor belt for scanning, the lady who explained to me, bearing the name tag ‘Team Leader’, was officious and overbearing. My eyes, glazed from lack of sleep, pleaded to her good sense of judgment. It was to no avail. My husband then joined me to hear out the lady-guard’s mechanical explanation at the end of which she threw the beloved things into the heavy plastic trash container without hesitance or remorse.

I was peeved since we had purchased those things in Malaysia as they were cheaper compared to the Netherlands’, only for them to end up in a ruthless garbage disposal. And the reason given was because the two bottles were each 200ml in volume, not the permissible 100ml! What’s the difference? If terrorists were to hijack or do bodily harm, God forbid, to the aircraft, by hook or crook, they will each bring 100ml of ‘something’ separately! My annoyance gave way to pity after I saw a middle-aged lady squirted her Romance perfume one last time and nervously fiddled it with her hands, a gesture similar to someone having to unceremoniously part with a precious heirloom.

Air France was the airline of choice based on the pricing and timing of our trip. As we boarded the musty-smelling plane with chintzy upholstered seats, we were amused by the melancholic genre currently getting airplay (pun intended). You know, the pipe-in music they usually put on before taking off. The lyric, arrangement and rhythm (or lack thereof) of the songs were borderline suicidal! Oh well, at least laughing at its preposterousness soothed my frayed nerves.

Stragglers and rainy condition delayed the take-off but I slept a few winks only to be awakened by hubby who passed me the ‘meal’ on offering. A piece of cake, in plastic wrapper. Despite the measly one cake, I have to give credit that it was actually yummy.

After descending on Charles De Gaulle airport and whilst the airplane was taxing to its assigned gate, we saw, somewhere along the winding runway, a monument on which a gigantic (almost-to-scale) Concorde model was immortalized in a take-off pose.

Since Saturday’s Christmas shopping crowd would cramp the subways, we hailed a cab instead at the airport taxi stand. I could easily see that most people in the taxi queue were puffing away. My suspicion was further confirmed upon arriving at our hotel that boasts a smoking lounge cum lobby area. To make matters worse, our next-room neighbor likes to smoke his stash at night! Welcome to Paris! Bienvenue Vers Paris!