Arrivederci Frenchies

Day 30

So, this was my final day overseas.

I was filled with mixed feelings. I was sick of Paris and wanted to leave, although I didn’t want to go home just yet.

All good things must end, though.

I got up and had breakfast with Caris (one of the two other Aussies from my room whose name escaped me in an earlier post), as well as another Aussie that I had chatted with in the hostel, Arianna.

Arianna was an Aussie living in the UK who worked with children/teenagers from troubled homes. She was a lovely and wise individual who I had a number of good conversations with at the hostel. I have also had the good fortune to catch up with her since returning from overseas when she came to visit Melbourne.

After breakfast I packed my bags and checked out of the hostel. The day was starting to heat up, and I decided to head out to the airport early to avoid any of the unpleasantness that I had in Manchester or upon arriving in Paris.

The train system in Paris is very efficient, with a lot of train lines running through the city. That being said, the trains are a little old, and while they run perfectly they suffer from a lack of airflow. So, by the time that I got out to the airport I was sweating like the proverbial and had to change my shirt, and this was before I even got on the plane for my 30 off hour trip back home.

At the airport I managed to book in without any issues (I was flying Emirates again), and set myself down in the airport McDonalds to grab a bite to eat. Nothing of real note happened at the airport, so I gather that they employ a bunch of nice people for departures from Charles de-Gaul, and a pack of *&#s to work in the arrivals area.

Once I entered the airport lounge I saw that we were going to fly on an A380 from Paris to Dubai. Score! I have always wanted to see what the big deal was with the A380s.

Inside the plane, it was pretty much the same as every other plane. Not enough room, same food, same hosts/hostesses, they just manage to fit more people on the plane. The plane did have that new car smell, though, which was comforting.

On this first flight I had a window seat, and had two guys sitting in the aisle with me. They chatted away, and I was content to listen to some music and watch a movie.

In Dubai, I hit up the smokers lounge for a bit and grabbed a coffee as it was getting on to 1am local time, before wandering back to the plane.

Once I got back on the plane, the fellow that had been sitting in the middle of our row of three asked me if I would mind taking his seat. The rest of his family were seated in another part of the plane, and he had asked the person sitting next to them if he could swap, but that guy wanted a window seat.

I didn’t mind too much, so I agreed.

The plane had a delay with taking off – there were 16 people that chose not to board the plane. We sat on the tarmac for about 45 minutes longer than we were supposed to, before the captain said “Fuck it, we’re leaving”.

I had a bit of a chat with both of the guys in the row on this flight, as there was a screaming kid that prevented us from sleeping.

The flight lasted for about 8 hours, during which I got a couple of hours sleep, chatted for a bit, and watched a movie.

Our next port of call was Kuala Lumpur. I hit up the smoking lounge again while we waited for the plane to be refueled, and as I was heading back to the departure lounge I passed a café with the name “Fukyumama”. I don’t think you could get away with a café like that in Melbourne.

Back on the plane, the fellow that had swapped seats obviously went back to his own seat, so Karl (the other remaining person in my aisle) and I decided that we would use this opportunity to have a few of the included drinks and a few laughs. There were a couple of hostesses on the plane that we flirted with – Karl flirted with an Irish hostie, and I flirted with one from Moldova.

After getting a few drinks in my belly, I decided that giving her my number was a good idea. As she came around to collect the hot flannels they provide to wash your face, I threw a piece of paper onto the tray with my flannel. I wasn’t sure if she noticed, but she came back over once she had finished collecting the flannels and told me that she couldn’t give out her number, but she had my number and may have to call me in Melbourne. Sadly, she didn’t.

The screaming kid was still on this plane, and Karl and I almost wanted to join in to show the kid what they sounded like to everybody else. The Moldovan hostess walked past the kid and gave it a frustrated look. I waved her over and offered my pillow, with the suggestion that it could be used to quiet the child. She had a laugh, understanding that I meant the pillow could be used more at the front of the child’s head rather than the back.

We finally arrived in Melbourne at the bright and early hour of 3am, after our delays in Dubai and KL. It was too late to ask my folks to come out and pick me up, so I grabbed a taxi back to their place, loaded up my car and headed back home for a delightful sleep in my own bed.

Thus endeth the trip. Sigh.