Or, How I almost didn't make it home from France.
Okay, so that's a little melodramatic, but I was in fact stuck in France for an extra day.
After having a really wonderful last day visiting with Christelle, my host's grandmother and then a great final dinner cooked by Yann, I made it to the train station early to get to my flight on time.
I understood that I needed to be at the airport an hour early, so I choose a train that would get me to the Charles De Gaulle airport about one hour and ten minutes early.
The train was entertaining, I sat behind some cute kids. Unfortunately, the train was also about 20 minutes late.
I finally made it to my check in area in CDG, and when I asked the girl which line I should go into, she asked which flight I was on. Mind you, my flight was scheduled to leave at 11:10 and it was about 10:30 (though I wasn't aware of the time).
Me: Charlotte.
Her: Oh. You are too late.
Me: What?
[She turns and waves a man over towards me, telling him I was there for the Charlotte flight]
Him: Do you know what time it is?
Me: No... but -
Him: Come with me.
[We walk a few feet back where he motions to a departure screen, the time is at the top.]
Him: It is 10:38, and the boarding is closed at one hour before departure. Do you understand? You have missed the flight, you can talk to information.
Me: ... Thank you?
To be continued...
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