26 Home, via Paris

Holidays and short breaks
Argentina (2001)
Chile (2002)
India (2003)
World trip (2005-2006)
Libya (2008)

Pictures
1 Croydon to Paris
2 Paris to Iguazú
3 Yacutinga
4 Yacutinga
5 Yacutinga
6 Iguazú
7 Salta
8 Purmamarca
9 Bariloche
10 Bariloche
11 Puerto Blest
12 The long walk
13 Pesca a la trucha
14 Paragliding
15 Ushuaia
16 The end of the road
17 Tierra del Fuego NP
18 Beagle Channel
19 Tren del fin del mundo
20 Perito Moreno glacier
21 Upsala and horse-riding
22 4x4 adventure
23 Hot air balloon
24 Tango
25 Oh no, the trip home!
26 Home, via Paris
27 Back to normality

Argentina

Paris, France to Croydon, United Kingdom

Wednesday 11 April 2001

Just woken up to breakfast on board. I managed to get a couple of hours kip but don’t feel as rested as I had hoped to. Next to us has been an Argentine lady who is on her way to see her brother in Surrey.

She’s a travel agent and was really interested to hear about our travels around Argentina. She talked to us about a drive from the east coast across Patagonia and through into Chile and is going to send us some information. She has given us her card and said to get in touch when we go back.

We arrived in Paris at about 6am. By the time we had tried to change our seat reservations for the flight tonight, and found clean toilets to freshen up in, it was past 7am. We decided to get the train into Paris and I remember the traffic being horrendous the last time we were here.

A train and two metros later we made it to the Tour Eiffel just before its 8.30 opening. It’s cold, wet and windy, our coats are in our bags at the airport and we’re shivering. Nonetheless you have to do it if you can and before long we were at the summit gazing over Paris.

The lifts up are really quick and I could see Stef getting more and more anxious. But even he made it up to the very top and was suitably impressed. Unfortunately it was a really cloudy and overcast day so we couldn’t see too far. The Seine looks like a muddy brown river rather than blue, very different to the water we have seen in Argentina.

Cold we decided to work our way back down. We were going to stop for a coffee on the second level but the café had no seats and it stank of a very sweet and sickly smell. We carried on down but the first level stank of rotting rubbish and sewage. We posted some cards and hastily made our way down. It’s strange to think that our balloon flight went higher than the Eiffel Tower.

We were so cold we jumped into a cab to the Pompidou Centre rather than using our travel tickets. We were dismayed to see a huge slow moving queue to get in and decided to go for a coffee and a cake to warm up first. For a café society we found it quite hard to find one but eventually settled down to hot chocolate and apple tart. Stef needed a bit of a sit down but came back saying “I can’t go here, it’s just a hole in the floor” – oh dear, don’t you just love continental loos.

Refreshed we headed off to the Pompidou only to find the queue had grown. It was about 12.30 and we had talked in the café about trying for an earlier flight if the queue was too big. I think secretly we were both relieved it was as my energy levels were sapping and the prospect of another six hours before our flight wasn’t good. We both confessed to being ready to go and although we would have loved to have completed our day in Paris we grabbed a cab and headed for the airport.

Home, sweet home!

Once there we had a bit of a runaround to change flights. Seats were available on the 3pm flight rather than our 7pm flight but we could only go if we could get our luggage redirected (we had checked it all the way through in BA). Information desk sent us to Ticket Sales, who sent us to Baggage Services, who sent us to the Transfer Desk. They said “no problem” and we were on the 3pm flight. We stocked up on fags and headed to the coffee bar. As we were going to board they stopped everyone going up to the gates. About five minutes later a whistle blew twice and then there was a loud bang. They must have found a suspect package and blown it up.

We couldn’t see anything and made our way on to the plane. We were right at the back where the seats are narrow and it was a tight squeeze to get in. Fortunately there were spare seats in the row behind so we spread out and crashed out again (we had had a snooze in the taxi). We thought Aerolineas were poor for in-flight catering but Air France only gave us a drink, not even half a jamon y queso sandwich!

Arriving in Heathrow we were looking forward to being back home and were hoping the baggage had been transferred ok. Our cases arrived but the black holdall with the mate, fleeces for Ma & Pa, our coats, sandals and Argentina books was missing. It also had our last few dirty clothes from yesterday.

Despite bar-coded baggage labels and a leaflet claiming a highly efficient baggage handling service Air France told us they had no idea where our bag was. They expected it would come in on the later flight we had originally been booked on and said they would call when it arrived.

We headed off to Victoria and stopped at the Grosvenor Hotel for a couple of drinks

before heading home. A quick stock up with milk and bread and we were on the train to Croydon and home.

Home… it’s all intact but cold as we had turned the heating off. The grass needs cutting and the plants want some water.

We have unpacked essentials, chased Air France – still no news – and ordered a curry for tea. We’re both dreaming of a good night’s sleep in our own bed and headed off at 10pm.

We both realised when we were in the taxi to Victoria that London is home, at the moment. Much as we enjoyed our holiday it was good to be back.

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