I'd intended to spend disembarkation day exploring Barcelona on my own before an evening flight to Paris, but the last night on the ship was a bit more eventful than I expected and I was dragging. (Eventful = closing down the club with my dozen new ship friends, interpretive dancing together to Bohemian Rhapsody and attempting to bribe the DJ to play one more song. Integrity prevailed – he wouldn’t give in! Luckily the 24-hour pizza bar was still open for our revelry.) Since I didn't go to sleep until the wee hours and since I am sure I’ll be back for a longer visit, I skipped sightseeing in favor of napping the SkyTeam lounge.
My Barcelona nap was just the first scheduled airport snooze of the day. I had a 20-hour overnight layover in Paris to look forward to, so I planned to sleep at the Charles de Gaulle that night. Why spend my precious Euros on a hotel when I could just rest in a corner, or better yet, in the cushy, quiet SkyTeam lounge? First thing in the morning, I would take the RER B into the city to visit my cousin who was studying abroad. It should have been a foolproof plan*…
My flight was about 45 minutes delayed, and that teeny holdup made for quite the interesting evening. When I finally landed at CDG at 11 p.m., just about every employee had gone home. I meandered toward another section of gates, when suddenly and without indication, I was outside the terminal in a public area out front. I saw no SORTIE signs, but I apparently sortied myself right out the door. No worries, I assured myself. I’ll just check back in, go through security and find a nice cozy corner for snoozing.
If you’ve ever tried to check in for a flight 20 hours early, perhaps you’ve found that YOU CAN’T. It didn’t matter that I accidentally ended up outside the terminal and that I was already technically checked in. Since my flight to JFK was not yet on the schedule, I was prohibited from re-entering the terminal and going through security. I wandered around for a few minutes, looking completely moronic and lost, as I tried to find someone I could sweet talk into letting me in - but everyone was gone.
Disappointed but not defeated, I resigned myself to sleeping in the public area in the front of the terminal. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d slept out by baggage claim, so I wasn’t worried at all.
Then I met Sebastien.
Up Next… French People Get a Bad Rap
Note to self: There aren't any foolproof plans in travel.
Note to self: There aren't any foolproof plans in travel.
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