My flight to Paris

Heading to the security check point in the MSP airport

My parents picked me up from my apartment and drove me to the airport on the afternoon of Thursday December 29^th. They walked me in and helped me get my baggage checked. My check baggage was 56 pounds, 6 pounds over the weight limit and Delta wanted to charge me $75 if I couldn’t reduce the weight. I had six roles of duct tape in my check baggage to give to the American Fondouk for bandaging. It was the only affordable and useful thing I could think of to bring. I took the six roles of duct tape out and placed them on the scale. They teetered between five and six pounds and the Delta representative called it good enough and checked my bag for free at 51 pounds. My parents walked me up to the security check point where we exchanged hugs and goodbyes and my mother continued to take pictures as I worked my way through security. As soon as I waved my last goodbye and rounded the corner into the terminal, it hit me; a way of sadness and excitement all at once. At last I was on my way to Morocco but I was leaving everyone I knew behind. I made my way to my terminal and waited patiently for my plane to begin boarding for Paris, at which I would transfer to Casablanca. Just before they began boarding they made the announcement that the overhead compartments in our plane were small and only baggage that could actually fit inside their tiny box would be allowed. Everything else would be checked to our final destinations. Hopefully that my luggage would fit, I removed my liquids which were stowed in the front flap for easy access and placed them in my personal bag. When it came time to board the plane, the gentleman asked me to see if my bag would fit in the metal box. I knew by bag was squishable and would fit if I made it but on my one quick attempt, it was too fat and the flight attendant checked my bag against my will. Unfortunately, I failed to remove my glasses from that bag. I realized this a couple of hours into the plane ride when my eyes began to ache from having my contacts in all day. As the plane ride drew on, I wanted desperately to remove my contacts but there was nowhere to put them and I would need them in Paris to be able to see where I needed to go. Even in my liquids I only had my travel sized peroxide based contact solution. This solution needs at least 6 hours to work and turn to saline and even still, I did not have my special case with the converter. So I tried rubbing my eyes to encourage tear production but I knew I would be desperate to remove them by the time I retrieved my check luggage in Casablanca.

The book I am reading on the plane

                The plane ride was relatively uneventful, except for a 45 minute delay at the start due to a leaky something and a part needing replaced. I sat next to a fuller figure German girl who had just visited a friend in Colorado. She spoke of what a great time she had in relatively good English and showed me pictures of all the snow they had. We talked about typical weather for our home areas this time of year, school, the books we were reading, and other small talk.  On the plane I began reading a book my Aunt Dianne had given to me for Christmas last year titled “A House in Fez,” by Suzanna Clarke. The book was enjoyable and informed me more about the culture, history, tradition, and architecture in addition to telling the story about how she and her husband purchased a house in Fez on a whim and their adventures and trials in restoring it.

               It was fun to people watch during the flight. There was a pretty blonde girl of approximately 6 to 8 years of age behind me. She spoke in French in the cutest way, and if she hadn’t been behind me I would have watched her the whole trip. She was just too cute! A large French black man sat across the aisle from me and spoke short phases to me in French when I would drop something. I know this man could speak English because I over heard a short conversation he had on the phone before we departed, but for some reason I must have looked like I spoke French to him. I think I was only one of 2 or 3 red heads on the whole plane. Are there even any red heads in France? Diagonal to me was a young American man built like a marine that annoyed the black man by putting his seat back, squishing the man’s legs, and bouncing the seat trying to get comfortable. In front of him was a bald man that watched at least two movies on his apple laptop before switching to his iPad. I wondered how his computer battery could last so long. In front of the bald man sat a black woman with a small child about 1 year of age. The child went between babbling happily and fussing the whole plane ride which I’m sure bothered many people in close proximity. Somehow it didn’t seem to bother me much and I caught a few winks of sleep. Directly in front of me sat a very affectionate Indian couple. I was a little surprised by their level of public affection and I assumed they must be newlyweds.

The sunrise over Paris

               Our plane had a good tailwind the whole time and we made up for some of the time lost due to the delay at the start. I had about four hours until my flight departed for Casablanca from the Paris airport. I was grateful for this extra time as the airport in Paris is not laid out nearly as convenient at the Minneapolis airport. I had to go through border patrol, past all the baggage claims, find my way to my terminal, go through security again, then find my way to my gate. Once I made it to my terminal I walked around a bit and found some things I wanted to buy in a souvenir shop. I exchanged $40 for 23 plus some odd cents in Euros at the currency exchange, then bought a double pack of suitcase locks and some small paintings of the Eiffel Tower, Arch de Triumph, and Notre Dame. These were places I had visited on a short day trip to Paris with my relatives in London. My husband, Chris, and I had visited my relatives in London after our honey moon in Spain and they took us on an adventure in Paris, one of the most memorable experiences of the trip. After buying my souvenirs, I went thru security and found a seat at my gate. I was relived to not be the only white person sitting at the gate and I hoped that I would be seated near someone that spoke English in case I had questions. While I waited I emailed my family that I was safe in Paris. When I logged on to my computer I found I had 15 minutes of complimentary internet which I was grateful for because my phone did not work in this country. I had my new iPhone prepared for international travel to morocco, but failed to mention I would be transferring in Paris. I figured that was the reason it was not working and hoped that it would work in Morocco.



Using my last few minutes of free wifi, I hurried to try to post this entry, but I ran out of time. The free intrernet is slow and everything on the internet is in French. I am grateful for the small attempt I made at learning French. I am at least able to understand the intent, but certainly not every word and detail. It will be interesting to see how I fare in Morocco. I’m sure everything will be only in Arabic and French. I have a translator on my phone, however, I did not activate the international data on it due to the outrages prices. Perhaps someone will speak English if I need help finding the train station in Casablanca. My next post will be after I have arrived in Casablanca, Morocco, taken the train to Fez, and escorted to the American Fondouk. Au Revoir!