Up early to get to the Dublin airport. We have to drop off WeeKa and catch a flight to Paris. So far today is not working out well. I slept bad last night; the midges are out this time of year, and they bite, so you have to keep the windows closed. OK except there is no way to cool off the room, even sleeping on top of the sheets I am too hot and sleep fitfully, have a nightmare.
I should have figured it out right there to just stop today and click on reset. But no, I kept scrolling through with the mouse.
I found out there is a hold on my credit card. Possible fraudulent activity. I have to call them collect. OK, a hassle, but hopefully not a problem. So I tried at the Dublin Airport, at a pay phone, but the operator refused to try to connect me unless I gave him a credit card number. I explained that was why I was calling, that the credit card company instructs me to do it this way, so he hung up on me. Twice. Now I am getting mad and a little tense. Guess I'll have to work on it in France, since we have to board.
Well, we board with no problem and the flight is short, but we hit the worst turbulence ever. Upon arrival in Paris we whisk right through border patrol (Bonjour! WHACK!) and I spy a pay phone, so I carefully follow the instructions I got in the email from Capital One... But no, the call, it cannot be made. Click.
It's pouring rain as we exit the airport to the Roissy bus. OK, but we abandoned the umbrellas back in Ireland. However, the cooling rain feels good. After catching the underground from Roissy to Ecole Militaire, we arrive easily at our motel, the same one we stayed at five years ago, Hotel du Champ de Mars. The owner is very glad to see us, as we are her, but... Your name is Scott? No? We are not on the book. I am hot, sweaty, angry, but hold it together and show her our emails, which clearly show we have a room booked. A little hem and haw, and she can let us see two rooms, one on the third floor, one on the fifth. The one on the third is larger, less stairs to climb, but no view. On the fifth, however, we look out at the street below. The room is smaller but we take it. It is only when we are actually in the room, unpacking and cursing the day, when Gail opens the windows wide and says, Look!" And there, right before our eyes is the Eiffel Tower. First stroke of good karma.
Now, lest you think I am a total idiot and somehow cannot follow the simplest directions from my credit card (Quote: "From overseas, contact an overseas operator... call 1-804.... state it is a Collect Call from CapitalOne Customer") let me tell you this: I figured, who can help with this? Why, a bank, of course. The first bank the lady could not get a call through, even after spending tome Googling overseas calling instructions. Second bank gave up right away. Third bank, can't call. I am about ready to step in front of the next taxi when we spy one more bank, Societe Generale Bank. I found a manager who found an English speaking manager who was A. fascinated by my iPod and B. willing and ready to help. It took about fifteen minutes of steady calling and trying things and suddenly! there was a voice at the other end! Bad news: turns out I am in Florida right now on a buying spree. Worse news: the account is closed, though this is really good news as they stopped the fraud, but bad news as in HELP! I AM IN EUROPE WITH LITTLE MONEY!
OK. Take a breath. Can we get an emergency card? Hard to tell, a few days, need an hour on the phone (the bank is closing, the nice lady wants to go home.). can we issue it to a family member who can express it to you? Let's see, we are here four nights, Bern two, Interlaken... Nope. Well, the good news in the end is that the account is closed and I am not out any money. Bad news: I have €100 and change, and one ATM card. I can get €380 a day, and if that card goes bad...
Fortunately I have an emergency BofA credit card buried in my pack. Unfortunately I cannot remember my password to the account and am locked out (you need to log in to set up a travel notification). Call the 800 number, says the website. Goddamnitalltohell. So I notified my bank I would be withdrawing more than usual and my fingers are crossed for the next two weeks.
At about 18:00 I gave up. Just exhausted, dehydrated and registering about 99 on the PissedOff-o-Meter. Gail grabbed my arm and we walked over to the Eiffel Tower, sat on a bench and remembered our first time in Paris. I can walk these streets by memory; we have no map but I know exactly where to go, where we are. We touched base with the Rue Cler, thought about one café but ended up at another, the Le Campanella (Doorbell) where we sat on the sidewalk in the warm evening and had a 2005 Chateau Calissanne (from Provence), cassoulet for me and salad for Gail. We tasted and said no thank you to €50 Chateau Neuf de Pape, not because it wasn't great, but who can afford that? We started in at 20:00 and here we are at 23:00 still sitting, now in the dark, sipping wine and watching Paris unfold.
This. This is what we have been missing all summer in the UK. The lights, the people. Great, not good wine and wonderful food and bread without even trying. The "Wooo-Ahhh" of the sirens, the quiet conversations going on all around us, the smell of cigarette smoke and perfume, the endless parade of people going by. Even the air; the thick taste of the wine. God, it feels so great to be here again.
We lingered as long as possible. I sure hated to finish that last swallow of wine. At midnight, after the sparkly light show on le Tour Eiffel, the cafés are still packed and going strong.
The stress slowly blew away in the cool breezes.
Tough day today, but. Tomorrow is a new start.