Arriving in Enghien after Christmas Vacation in Saint Louis
The photo at the top (if you can see it) is Enghien-les-bains, our little village. (You might have to actually click on the blue lettering of the title of this piece.) Anyway, It’s a lovely spa town and really came into its own at the turn of the century. I will share a link of it at the end of this story. It’s also connected to Montmorency, which is our actual address and that has even more wonderful and very interesting history.
When I arrived after my Saint Louis vacation it was a balmy, breezy, overcast morning and very quiet in Paris.
While putting on my socks after a really good sleep up front, in this speeding fuselage, with way too much wine with dinner, I looked at the GPS and saw 7:20am. I searched out my village, from the window, though impossible, because it was dark. But every morning – from my little bedroom, I hear the sound of the airbus and wonder if it’s USAirways or not. This is a peculiarity of one born in the airline business. We tend to listen, watch, even crane our necks to see what is flying above us, even if it means stepping out into on-coming traffic while gazing above. It’s a disease. So, now I know, that at around 7:20 or – 7:40 approximately, my airline, the one I’m officially retired from, is making its way over Enghien, jet engines soaring – as we are in the direct line of Charles de Gaulle airport. It’s due east of our apartment.
Good landing, windy, a bit hard with nose wheel though. That big round Terminal 1- comes into view – the circular lights streaming round and round.
I love coming into that terminal early in the morning…..the stores, the clerks, getting ready for the day, the L’Occitane, the gift shops, perfumeries, all so still, quiet, waiting for the onslaught of people making their way through in a few hours and jamming the corridors, grabbing last-minute souvenirs.
They gave me a special customs pass to get into and out of customs quickly. I felt like a diplomat. What fun was this!?! There was only one other gentleman ahead of me and then it was my turn, and an official puts my card into the stall (like a train ticket) and off I go to the customs window. It’s just me and this guy. I’m thinking where are the other 296 persons behind us? Or in front of us? It’s so unimaginable to be going through customs so quickly and just TWO of us!! Went forever around that circle, knowing it so well as I lived there one entire day , in 2000 while David flew by taxi back to the city to get a new passport! I had inadvertently “washed” it in the gite washing machine, and of course the airport officials wouldn’t accept it! A whole other story! Saw signs to baggage – went there, so quickly, – and then the signs to the tram/shuttle where I would go to the Roissypole to get the RER. As I got down and off the elevator – there was my honey waiting there for me!! It was majorly fun to see him!!!! A big huge hug!!!!