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Departure and Arrival
Our travel to
France was marked
only by the surprising lack
of
problems. The trip began in a rented car for the two hours to the
airport
because it was cheaper than storing our car in the airport parking lot
for
six months. We had so much luggage that we rented the biggest SUV
we could get. This trip was more like moving than traveling so we
had
packed
everything we could possibly carry. We managed to get to the
airport, drop off the car at Hertz (who were very helpful--thank you),
haul our 500lbs of luggage in and out of their
shuttle bus to the KLM check-in counter, get through the long line at
security where they checked
for nail files and that our shoes were properly soled, loaded the kids
onto
the plane for the seven hour flight to Amsterdam, make the transfer to
a two hour flight to Nice, find
our luggage largely unscathed, and exit unmolested through the "nothing
to claim" door. Ok, I did receive a black eye when I opened the
rental car
door. That made me feel like I was
now worthy of closer scrutiny at security check points but no one
seemed to notice. The kids were treated well by KLM and were
happy to watch movies and play with the toys offered by the
steward. We all arrived as scheduled, just a bit tired.
The trip from the airport with all our luggage was more
uncertain but we had family in southern France so even that was
easy. They came in two cars to get us and our things. The
only very minor hitch in Nice was the airport's proud new parking
building (40 euros to
park for a few hours--the price of a case of everyday wine here.)
It has always seemed remarkable to me how complicated is the
effort to transport our bodies from place to place: Cars, roads,
parking lots, rental agencies, shuttle buses, airports, security
checkpoints, terminals, airplanes, thousands of gallons of fuel, dozens
of people dedicating whole careers for our convenience, more airports
in foreign lands waiting to receive us, luggage tossed here and there,
arriving on schedule halfway around the planet after only a few hours,
more parking issues, cramming all the needs of a family into two cars,
toll ways home, and finding a place to hold all of our stuff until we
have an apartment of our own to hold it. All is a common
occurrence. A few generations ago (and possibly forward) it would
have been inconceivable.
At left, Max Cartier's sculpture "Le Voyageur" in front of
Terminal One at the Nice airport. A stone-man, bound in rebar,
rusts comfortably in place as busy travelers come and go.
10 August 2005
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