Still trying to get back on an Eastern Daylight Time kind of schedule.....
Anyway, the last day in Paris really consisted of one task....get to the airport. Suzanne preferred the 40-50 Euro take a cab option. Scott preferred the 19 euro Metro/Train option.
So we took the Metro and Train. This required a 2 block walk from the hotel to the Metro station (did I mention how much Suzanne LOATHES towing luggage through city streets?), down the stairs to the station, through the turnstile, and onto the train. Then, we get off 3 stops later, and have to walk 5 minutes to transfer onto the railroad train.
And then, the real fun begins. Boarded the train to Charles de Gaulle; it's the express, one more stop in Paris and then straight to the airport. I get on ahead of Suzanne and am trying to reserve a seat. But, for some reason, this black gentleman decides to sit in the same group of 4 seats I'm saving for Suzanne. Lacking the language skills to get him to move his sorry ass, Suzanne just sits a row behind us.
One more stop before the express begins to the airport....as we stop, the guy stands up, bumps into me, and proceeds to get off. And another gentlemen, across the aisle, starts yelling at the guy next to me in French. He's yelling, the black guy is yelling, and eventually, the black guy gets off.
The guy who started the yelling, after we started going again, speaks to Suzanne and I in ok, but, not great, English, and tells us that the guy was trying to pickpocket me, and asked if I felt his hand go into my pouch.
Pouch? I hear you ask. I had only taken one jacket to Europe, an Eddie Bauer water deflecting jacket; it has velcro pockets in the front and pouch pockets on the sides that run behind those front pockets. While I may not have packed with a whole lot of care in other departments, I did choose this jacket carefully. I wouldn't need to carry an umbrella if I had this jacket, and I thought the front pockets (with velcro 'clasps') would serve me well given the constant warnings we had received about pickpockets. So, my wallet was in one front pocket, the passport in another, and while this guy was next to me, I remember checking to make sure my wallet was there and everything was secure.
Turns out the guy across the aisle had seen the whole thing; the guy next to me had reached into my pouch (and found nothing). And I was pleasantly suprised that he gave him a verbal tongue-lashing for it.
So, you might think that's enough excitement for one train ride. Oh no....the next act was just beginning as a gentlemen with his accordion appears in the doorway between the two cars and begins a lovely serenade, including that oldie-but-goodie "O Sole Mio". And after his performance, comes around with his dixie-cup looking for coins.
Finally (finally!) get to the airport, and go up to the ticketing level, and a group of individuals (airport workers union?) comes through beating milk cartons and blowing whistle with banners and such. Have no idea what they were protesting, but, they were the last act of a memorable morning trip to the airport.
