I said my good-byes and was on my way to the airport before The City of Light was awake.
Tuesday. Travel day to go back to Washington, D.C. I got up at 3:00 A.M. to make sure I was ready before the shuttle came to pick me up at 4:45 A.M. I said my good-byes and grabbed a cup of cappuccino from the machine before I left. The van driver was nice enough to hold my cup for me while I climbed inside.
We had to pick up a few people before going to Charles de Gaulle Airport. I struck up a conversation with a couple from the States seated in front of me; later, I spoke with a young woman who lives in the E.U. and I felt a twinge of jealousy: she spoke of how easy it is for her to travel because she lives in the E.U., and I wished I could be her.
We arrived at the airport and I alighted. I started to make my way to the gate, but stopped first to tell an American something she was asking of her friend, loudly. I don’t even remember what it was, I was so tired as I walked away — I might have been awake, but I was running on adrenaline. Still, I found some coffee (people in Europe say they “have a coffee,” which I’ll miss) and sat down to write a note to French President Francois Hollande on my French stationery that I had bought in a shop near the Eiffel Tower. I told him how much I love his country and how much I’d like to teach English there. The stamp didn’t want to stick to the envelope: good thing I’m always prepared with transparent tape, though it wouldn’t surprise me if it made an awful impression on him or his staff. I located the mailbox downstairs and headed to my gate.
I’m leavin’ on a jet plane…don’t know when I’ll be back again.
I sat patiently waiting for the flight attendants of Turkish Airlines to tell us it was time to board. The flight took off without a hitch. We were served a meal shortly after take off. I struck up a conversation with a French woman who seemed to turn up her nose at me as a(n) (fill in the blank) American. (I didn’t know what she thought of me, but I gathered it wasn’t good.) That’s okay, she seemed to me a bit stiff. Not sure how else to describe it.
Our stop in Istanbul was uneventful. We got back on board to go to Dulles, and I curled up for the long flight. The plane was about half empty so everyone had a lot more room to spread out and sleep, or whatever. I spoke with a couple with a young child about taking more seats, and they said they had their eye on a row right after take-off. The food, as before, was great. I still love French food the best, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy another country’s food.
When we landed in Dulles I found myself hungry again. I tried to find something to eat but my taste buds were on full revolt: they didn’t want to come back to American food. It’s like they were saying, “We want more French food. Now.” Can’t help you there, taste buds. You’ll have to settle for what I can find to eat in the States. In the end, I bought a muffin from Starbuck’s that wasn’t very satisfying – but it was something.
I took the new $5.00 shuttle from Dulles Airport to the Silver Line. Not a bad way to travel, but I’ll bet it’s hurting cab and shuttle businesses. From Metro Center I took a cab to D.C. Lofty Hostel in Washington, D.C., and settled in my room. I’m not sure how long I will be staying, since I have to find a place to live — and accept the fact I’m in Washington for the foreseeable future.
Salut !
All images by Can Stock Photo. “I’m leavin’ on a jet plane…don’t know when I’ll be back again,” from the song, “I’m Leaving on a Jet Plane,” by John Denver, recorded by Peter, Paul & Mary.