Well, it was my first week at work, if you can call it that. We are being toured everywhere to become familiar with our new work location in Marne-la-Vallee. The first two days we had late dinners with the team and the Disney executives that invited over to help out. So we finish dinner around 2130 and then the hour long train ride home, get settled in as best we can, and get back up to start all over at 0500.
The weather has been cold, and we even had snow yesterday (1-24-07) for a couple of hours in the morning. We all shiver when our French partners announce with great joy that it is now -5 degrees Celsius. I am teaching everyone how to quickly calculate it to Fahrenheit so it doesn't sound so bad, double the number then add 32, so -5 becomes -10 and add 32 equals 22 degrees bad enough but not as bad as -5. We are already strategizing to do indoor museums when the weather is cold, and save the outdoor gardens and parks for warmer weather.
Some of the team have not had as smooth an experience as I have, and only 3 of us out of the 8 were satisfied with our apartments. There is one of the team who is traveling out of the country for the first time and the shell shock was very noticeable on the first morning. She confided in me that had it not been for a sister team member who is guiding her, she would have left already. This is when quick friendships are formed, or should I say forged. The visiting line of business leaders (the Americans) have formed a very supportive group already, having common issues like;
-How to do laundry and have it come out softer than a cinder block.
-Finding where the server won't laugh at you, or worse, throw angry words in your general direction, as they ignore you and go to get someone else's croissant.
-How to trick the system so you can access your email and tie into Wi-Fi or jumper into a hard line. ( you didn't hear any of this from me).
It really is like living in Kissimmee, where the locals don't realize how important the "stupid tourists" are for them, and you can't understand most of what is being said to or around you. Just so you understand, not all we encounter are rude. As a matter of fact most of the French have been fabulous. I had a great experience just this afternoon when I went to find out about my French Language Lessons. The clerk at the desk spoke kindly and answered a bevy of questions and as I relaxed and shared more information than I had with any one outside of the Lumiere team so far, I found out that she had worked for Disney at Epcot in 94 in the France Pavilion. The phone rang a few times, and she quickly, but nicely excused herself and went on with her work, leaving me with more information than I needed.
By the way, I will start on March 5, 2007, due to traveling to California and Florida in February to benchmark best practices at both U.S. sites. It sounds funny, but It will be nice to be home for a week, and have another week where I don't have to concentrate, just to buy milk. However, I must say, even with the cold weather, and missing Betty and everyone else, I am having a great time.
The French partners here have been great about helping us learn what we can and I think they are really excited to have us here helping out. Next week we get in the trenches, oh let me rephrase that, we were told not to talk about the war by our partners (inside joke, that is what they say whenever they have German guests). Next week we begin our in field experiences here to learn what difficulties they are having and what ideas for improvements that the Cast have. We have been heavily reminded that we need to maintain confidentiality, so I won't be sharing details, but will continue with learning's and discoveries of the country and cultures I encounter.
Robert
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
On the Bright Side 1-24-07
Good day everyone,
The streets of Paris are a great place to witness some of the most interesting behavior human beings can portray. The City in January is grey for the most part. The sky reflects the pavement and the pallor of most of the buildings that seam somehow reflective of the mood of the pedestrians. As in most cities, it is usually best as a new comer to try and blend in as much as possible. I found this out after I left my apartment last Saturday, my first full day in Paris, to take a brisk walk to locate the school that I have signed up to learn French from. I opened the window prior to leaving the flat, and felt there was no need to wear a jacket, almost unheard of in January, but like the U.S., Europe was unseasonably mild this year.
So off I went, with my light jacket tucked away safely in my backpack. I wore a clean, but not new white T-shirt, a pair of jeans, and some plain looking Nike’ tennis shoes. The only thing that said tourist to me was possibly my backpack, but I had to have something to take along my coat, and my laptop so I could find a Starbuck’s and test the wireless connection.
I took back streets from my place to the area just East of the Arch De Triumphe, where I would purchase my rail ticket for the coming week before heading off across the city. As I turned the corner at the Avenue Des Champs Elysees, the main street that leads to the Arch, I quickly realized that I had made my first fashion mistake in Paris, and I hadn’t even been here for a full day yet! Everyone else had jackets on. Not just jackets, but dark, dull jackets, that not only didn’t show any color, but absorbed the light as much as anything could. It was like looking at walking black holes.
On the Brighter Side
The funny thing is, I don’t think anyone even noticed. Well, maybe they noticed that I did stick out like one white sheep in a heard of black ones but no one showed that they noticed. As a matter of fact, no one showed any acknowledgement of anything at all. With the exception of people pausing at crossings until the light changed, you would have thought that no one had any eyes at all.
The little voice in my head reminded me that “I was not in Florida anymore Dorothy”, and I was paying full attention. The quote this week is very appropriate for traveling to cities that are, not only in foreign cities, but also in cities that are outside of our normal stomping grounds.
“When you are at Rome live in the Roman style; when you are elsewhere live as they live elsewhere.”
Saint Ambrose (339 AD - 397 AD), Taylor
As sometimes happens when I research a quote, and it correlates directly with my first day in Paris. I start out thinking I know exactly what I will find, and come away with a discovery. I always though that the saying went, “When in Rome, do as the Romans do”. I also thought it would be acceptable on such a warm day to take a stroll through Paris wearing a white T-Shirt. Well we learn something everyday. Believe me, in just five days in France, I have learned a month’s worth of valuable lessons. Luckily, no international incidents or injuries were incurred in the process of my education.
There is a very interesting world of intrigue out beyond your normal view. No one expects everyone to know everything about different lands, however everyone expects people to learn and grow with their experiences. As long as you do that, everything will be fine, and it doesn’t hurt to…….. always look on the bright side of life.
Have a great adventure this week, no matter where you are.
Robert
(sorry, no scale here, so I can’t tell you how my weight is doing, but I do feel pretty good with all the walking)
The streets of Paris are a great place to witness some of the most interesting behavior human beings can portray. The City in January is grey for the most part. The sky reflects the pavement and the pallor of most of the buildings that seam somehow reflective of the mood of the pedestrians. As in most cities, it is usually best as a new comer to try and blend in as much as possible. I found this out after I left my apartment last Saturday, my first full day in Paris, to take a brisk walk to locate the school that I have signed up to learn French from. I opened the window prior to leaving the flat, and felt there was no need to wear a jacket, almost unheard of in January, but like the U.S., Europe was unseasonably mild this year.
So off I went, with my light jacket tucked away safely in my backpack. I wore a clean, but not new white T-shirt, a pair of jeans, and some plain looking Nike’ tennis shoes. The only thing that said tourist to me was possibly my backpack, but I had to have something to take along my coat, and my laptop so I could find a Starbuck’s and test the wireless connection.
I took back streets from my place to the area just East of the Arch De Triumphe, where I would purchase my rail ticket for the coming week before heading off across the city. As I turned the corner at the Avenue Des Champs Elysees, the main street that leads to the Arch, I quickly realized that I had made my first fashion mistake in Paris, and I hadn’t even been here for a full day yet! Everyone else had jackets on. Not just jackets, but dark, dull jackets, that not only didn’t show any color, but absorbed the light as much as anything could. It was like looking at walking black holes.
On the Brighter Side
The funny thing is, I don’t think anyone even noticed. Well, maybe they noticed that I did stick out like one white sheep in a heard of black ones but no one showed that they noticed. As a matter of fact, no one showed any acknowledgement of anything at all. With the exception of people pausing at crossings until the light changed, you would have thought that no one had any eyes at all.
The little voice in my head reminded me that “I was not in Florida anymore Dorothy”, and I was paying full attention. The quote this week is very appropriate for traveling to cities that are, not only in foreign cities, but also in cities that are outside of our normal stomping grounds.
“When you are at Rome live in the Roman style; when you are elsewhere live as they live elsewhere.”
Saint Ambrose (339 AD - 397 AD), Taylor
As sometimes happens when I research a quote, and it correlates directly with my first day in Paris. I start out thinking I know exactly what I will find, and come away with a discovery. I always though that the saying went, “When in Rome, do as the Romans do”. I also thought it would be acceptable on such a warm day to take a stroll through Paris wearing a white T-Shirt. Well we learn something everyday. Believe me, in just five days in France, I have learned a month’s worth of valuable lessons. Luckily, no international incidents or injuries were incurred in the process of my education.
There is a very interesting world of intrigue out beyond your normal view. No one expects everyone to know everything about different lands, however everyone expects people to learn and grow with their experiences. As long as you do that, everything will be fine, and it doesn’t hurt to…….. always look on the bright side of life.
Have a great adventure this week, no matter where you are.
Robert
(sorry, no scale here, so I can’t tell you how my weight is doing, but I do feel pretty good with all the walking)
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Travel Log 1-20-07
Well, being up in the middle of the night didn't help me get up early as I had planned. I ended up sleeping until 1130, I guess those blinds keep out what little light the clouds let through. I had some breakfast and cleaned up a bit. I didn't want the Parisians thinking that Americans were dirty people. I packed my laptop in my backpack, one luxury I didn't leave behind, and headed out to find Wi-Fi. I walked down to the Arch De Triumph and got my RER (rail) pass that would allow me to get to work on Monday, and walked back up to stroll the streets. I know Paris has 10 Starbuck's, and I would run accross one to try and pick up the Wi-Fi sooner or latter. I had even taken a few moment on the Web and looked up the addresses, that is how I knew there were 10 of them. As I walked I was mapping this section of the city in my head. I found the shortest distance and easiest walking path to the RER, one I probably will only take when I am rushed, and found an inexpensive Japanese Restaurant a few blocks away.
I criss crossed the area intentionally to gain insight into cross streets and shops that may be interesting latter on, and wound up near the Obolisk. I decided to proceed further on past the Louve' and to the shopping district that is to the East. I found my Starbuck's there and went in and got teased about how I spoke, and ordered my coffee. It's nice to know that even in Paris, the associates in Starbuck's hold to the same standard as back home, they are snobs and are rude. By the way I think that the reason they are called associates, is so that the word ass is prominently displayed over their names. Still good coffee though, so I took the teasing with a wave of my backhand and a Pffft from my lips and found a table.
Ok, so I am not the brightest bulb in the box, I left the wi-fi card at the apartment. Did I mention the coffee was good? As I finished my coffee the sky opened up and a heavy rain wet the granite cobblestones and curbs, giving them a cleaner and shiny look, oh and they are much more slippery when wet as well. I pulled up my hood, pulled out my pocket umbrella, and headed out to find my way home. I walked a few blocks holding onto the hilt of the umbrella, becuase the lock up device was not working, and decided to try my hand at buying a one use ticket for the subway.
No matter what people say, if you look pathetic enough someone will show pitty on you and assist you on your way. I guess I looked pretty pathetic, because it didn't take long for lady who was watching her husband but tickets, to come over and show me how the automatic ticket machines work. Her husband quickly joined in by giving up his machine that he had somehow gotten to switch over to english. I wish I knew how he did that, but I didn't want to detain them any longer than I already had. I think he was trying to get her to leave before I became the family pet project or something. I got my ticket and headed through the gates to the underground.
Remember how I said it was raining? Well every one in Paris uses the subway when it rains. Brilliant! I was now surrounded by thousands of wet Parisians and tourists all trying to get on the same train. It really wasn't bad, and I even got on the right one, heading the right direction, although for a couple of seconds I was wondering to myslelf. You see, when you go underground and turn left and right then right and straight, then go up then down and left again, you loose all sense of direction, and I was thinking the train should have been going the other way, I was wrong and the conductors were right, and they got me to my terminal safely and quite dry, I might add.
Back at the Flat, oh yeah, the Flat thing. I was told by my Real Estate Agent, that mail should be sent to:
Robert Belair
c/o My Flat in Paris
30 Rue Washington
75008 Paris
France
I told her that it was rather pretentious to write "My Flat in Paris" but she explained that this was the name of the rental company and the matron who would get the mail would then know what appartment to deliver it to. Cathleen, also told me to have packages shipped to the office as there is not always someone at the apartement building so that address is:
Robert Belair
Disneyland Resort Paris
Project Lumiere Team, Robert Belair
Robin Hood Building
BP 100
7777 Marne la Vallee
Cedex 4
France
So I learned a lot today, in Paris you will get the furthest from your base before it starts raining. The route back home is uphill. The Parisian way of saying Bonjour is to bump into you and grunt. Once you get the hang of it, it is quite enjoyable. And finally if you buy recycled bags and bring them back to the market, be sure they see you take them out of your backpack, or learn to say "Achat La nuit dernier" meaning Purchased Last Night. I love to learn new things, I can't wait untill I start French Lessons........
I criss crossed the area intentionally to gain insight into cross streets and shops that may be interesting latter on, and wound up near the Obolisk. I decided to proceed further on past the Louve' and to the shopping district that is to the East. I found my Starbuck's there and went in and got teased about how I spoke, and ordered my coffee. It's nice to know that even in Paris, the associates in Starbuck's hold to the same standard as back home, they are snobs and are rude. By the way I think that the reason they are called associates, is so that the word ass is prominently displayed over their names. Still good coffee though, so I took the teasing with a wave of my backhand and a Pffft from my lips and found a table.
Ok, so I am not the brightest bulb in the box, I left the wi-fi card at the apartment. Did I mention the coffee was good? As I finished my coffee the sky opened up and a heavy rain wet the granite cobblestones and curbs, giving them a cleaner and shiny look, oh and they are much more slippery when wet as well. I pulled up my hood, pulled out my pocket umbrella, and headed out to find my way home. I walked a few blocks holding onto the hilt of the umbrella, becuase the lock up device was not working, and decided to try my hand at buying a one use ticket for the subway.
No matter what people say, if you look pathetic enough someone will show pitty on you and assist you on your way. I guess I looked pretty pathetic, because it didn't take long for lady who was watching her husband but tickets, to come over and show me how the automatic ticket machines work. Her husband quickly joined in by giving up his machine that he had somehow gotten to switch over to english. I wish I knew how he did that, but I didn't want to detain them any longer than I already had. I think he was trying to get her to leave before I became the family pet project or something. I got my ticket and headed through the gates to the underground.
Remember how I said it was raining? Well every one in Paris uses the subway when it rains. Brilliant! I was now surrounded by thousands of wet Parisians and tourists all trying to get on the same train. It really wasn't bad, and I even got on the right one, heading the right direction, although for a couple of seconds I was wondering to myslelf. You see, when you go underground and turn left and right then right and straight, then go up then down and left again, you loose all sense of direction, and I was thinking the train should have been going the other way, I was wrong and the conductors were right, and they got me to my terminal safely and quite dry, I might add.
Back at the Flat, oh yeah, the Flat thing. I was told by my Real Estate Agent, that mail should be sent to:
Robert Belair
c/o My Flat in Paris
30 Rue Washington
75008 Paris
France
I told her that it was rather pretentious to write "My Flat in Paris" but she explained that this was the name of the rental company and the matron who would get the mail would then know what appartment to deliver it to. Cathleen, also told me to have packages shipped to the office as there is not always someone at the apartement building so that address is:
Robert Belair
Disneyland Resort Paris
Project Lumiere Team, Robert Belair
Robin Hood Building
BP 100
7777 Marne la Vallee
Cedex 4
France
So I learned a lot today, in Paris you will get the furthest from your base before it starts raining. The route back home is uphill. The Parisian way of saying Bonjour is to bump into you and grunt. Once you get the hang of it, it is quite enjoyable. And finally if you buy recycled bags and bring them back to the market, be sure they see you take them out of your backpack, or learn to say "Achat La nuit dernier" meaning Purchased Last Night. I love to learn new things, I can't wait untill I start French Lessons........
Travel Log 1-19-07
Shortly after closing my last log on 1-18-07, I packed my laptop and went to use the facilities 20 minutes prior to the new boarding time. As I was finishing up, I heard my name being announced, and I hurried to the gate, to find a frantic young woman asking if I was going to Paris, I replied I was and said that I heard my name being called, and she said that they were about to take my bags off the plane and that I had just made it. Now mind you there were no other passengers in sight.
The woman quickly scanned my ticket, and rushed me through the door to the gangway, that she promptly slammed shut and locked behind me. As I entered the plane, all the attendants greeted me with slightly concealed stern looks, and welcomed me to my seat post haste. After scrambling to get settled in, I noticed the seat beside me was vacant, and if I was the last one on, I was sure to have a quiet flight. There was a young man over two seats to my right, and we said hello and not much more at that point. We continued to wait, and finally the pilot announced that we were being delayed due to some maintenance paperwork that needed to be completed prior to us leaving. I think it was them having to put my bags back on, but I was not going to broadcast it to the rest of the passengers. The pilot came on again and said it would be about another 15 minutes for the maintenance work. I commented to the young man on my right that they should take all the time they need to make sure it was done right. He smiled and we began a lengthy conversation about his job as an airline ground attendant, and a laundry list of all the possible non critical items that might have gone on to delay us. After about another 40 minutes we finally got the go ahead, and the noise of the engines drowned out the conversation for the rest of the trip. I put on my headphones and tried to relax.
The rest of the flight was flawless, with a perfect, gentle landing at Charles De Gaulle. After a quick stop at the immigration window, and I mean quick, I don’t think the lady even had time to focus on my passport, let alone check it out completely, never the less, I was in France. The delay back in Delluse worked my favor now, as my bags being the last ones on were of course the first ones off the plane, I grabbed them and headed for the sortie (exit). There faithfully waiting for me was my appointed driver, we quickly discovered he knew less English, than I knew French. I also discovered that he didn’t know much French either. We rode the elevator up and down 3 times until I convinced him with gestures that the elevator had been opening up on the ground floor the whole time. A long quiet ride into Paris in the rain of course, after all it is Paris in the winter. Grey and dark muted colors are everywhere; even the people driving by wore black or grey. Nothing was colorful.
We arrived at 30 Rue Washington, my flat in Paris (more about this latter) about an hour and half late. Luckily, Cathleen, the real estate agent, was patently waiting under the scaffolding that obscures the entry into the courtyard, doing some form of crossword. She escorted me to the second floor apartment (see pictures) and showed me everything in great detail. That is except how to acces the Voice Mail on the phone. I will have to figure that out utilizing my recorder and someone that understands French. I did discover that I can call from my apartment to the stated for free, Whoohoo!
I now understand how American's get fat. We get to push big carts around these mamoth stores with more food than anyone can imagine, and then load it up in the family caravan, and drive it to our home. Here in France, you shop each day and you bring home, only what you can carry. I immediatly bought 2 recycled bags, for 0.15 Euro's each and loaded them up, only to find out I needed to plan another trip. It is interesting when you think you know what you want to get, but not everything is as simple as it is at home. I labored over what milk was 2% or skim, but finally I just watched a woman stroll over and pick one up. She looked healthy so I figure, what the heck.
After dinner, I called my beloved, and had a nice long chat with her. I worked on getting the wi-fi working, to no avail and finally retired to bed early. I woke up at around mid night and couldn't get back to sleep so I worked for a couple of hours on the computer and then read some more about the French. The book I have is called 60 Million French Men Can't be Wrong. It really helps to understand the different culture. I plan to get up and explore on Saturday, and perhaps finish up my shopping.......
The woman quickly scanned my ticket, and rushed me through the door to the gangway, that she promptly slammed shut and locked behind me. As I entered the plane, all the attendants greeted me with slightly concealed stern looks, and welcomed me to my seat post haste. After scrambling to get settled in, I noticed the seat beside me was vacant, and if I was the last one on, I was sure to have a quiet flight. There was a young man over two seats to my right, and we said hello and not much more at that point. We continued to wait, and finally the pilot announced that we were being delayed due to some maintenance paperwork that needed to be completed prior to us leaving. I think it was them having to put my bags back on, but I was not going to broadcast it to the rest of the passengers. The pilot came on again and said it would be about another 15 minutes for the maintenance work. I commented to the young man on my right that they should take all the time they need to make sure it was done right. He smiled and we began a lengthy conversation about his job as an airline ground attendant, and a laundry list of all the possible non critical items that might have gone on to delay us. After about another 40 minutes we finally got the go ahead, and the noise of the engines drowned out the conversation for the rest of the trip. I put on my headphones and tried to relax.
The rest of the flight was flawless, with a perfect, gentle landing at Charles De Gaulle. After a quick stop at the immigration window, and I mean quick, I don’t think the lady even had time to focus on my passport, let alone check it out completely, never the less, I was in France. The delay back in Delluse worked my favor now, as my bags being the last ones on were of course the first ones off the plane, I grabbed them and headed for the sortie (exit). There faithfully waiting for me was my appointed driver, we quickly discovered he knew less English, than I knew French. I also discovered that he didn’t know much French either. We rode the elevator up and down 3 times until I convinced him with gestures that the elevator had been opening up on the ground floor the whole time. A long quiet ride into Paris in the rain of course, after all it is Paris in the winter. Grey and dark muted colors are everywhere; even the people driving by wore black or grey. Nothing was colorful.
We arrived at 30 Rue Washington, my flat in Paris (more about this latter) about an hour and half late. Luckily, Cathleen, the real estate agent, was patently waiting under the scaffolding that obscures the entry into the courtyard, doing some form of crossword. She escorted me to the second floor apartment (see pictures) and showed me everything in great detail. That is except how to acces the Voice Mail on the phone. I will have to figure that out utilizing my recorder and someone that understands French. I did discover that I can call from my apartment to the stated for free, Whoohoo!
I now understand how American's get fat. We get to push big carts around these mamoth stores with more food than anyone can imagine, and then load it up in the family caravan, and drive it to our home. Here in France, you shop each day and you bring home, only what you can carry. I immediatly bought 2 recycled bags, for 0.15 Euro's each and loaded them up, only to find out I needed to plan another trip. It is interesting when you think you know what you want to get, but not everything is as simple as it is at home. I labored over what milk was 2% or skim, but finally I just watched a woman stroll over and pick one up. She looked healthy so I figure, what the heck.
After dinner, I called my beloved, and had a nice long chat with her. I worked on getting the wi-fi working, to no avail and finally retired to bed early. I woke up at around mid night and couldn't get back to sleep so I worked for a couple of hours on the computer and then read some more about the French. The book I have is called 60 Million French Men Can't be Wrong. It really helps to understand the different culture. I plan to get up and explore on Saturday, and perhaps finish up my shopping.......
Travel Log 1-18-07
I hope you all don't mind me borrowing from Star Trek, but this is an easier way of remembering each entry.
I am writing this as I sit and wait for a connecting flight that will take me from the warm comfort of my home in Orlando Fl. To the uncertain and according to the news a cold and moist France, where I will spend six months with project Lumiere. More on the project later, when I learn exactly what it is I will be doing.
The departure from Orlando was calm and collected, well as much as it could be, needless to say, anytime someone is leaving his family for six months there is bound to be some anxiety on everyone’s part. Betty, took me to the airport and helped carry my two large suitcases and my carry on to the check in desk. The two suitcases became necessary after I found out it was going to cost over $600 to ship what I thought I needed to survive. I made a quick trip to JC Penny’s and spent $80 on a large, but legal to the airport case with in line skate wheels and two smaller cases, that I have left home this time, only because I couldn’t figure out how to roll all of these from place to place by myself without leaving any o f them unguarded. I even spent a few minutes trying to remember how the riddle was solved about the fox, the corn and the rooster crossing the river, then I decided I had better things to resolve, like do I pack underwear or Kraft Macaroni and Cheese? You will be happier with the visual of the Macaroni being stored in the pantry at home, so we will leave it at that. A quick reprioritization of every article I had originally packed, some juggling between the two suitcases and my carry on bag, and some careful math as I weighed myself on the bathroom scale, and then holding a bag, re-weighted myself to determine if I had exceeded the 50 pound limit. I latter found out that the limit would be 75 lbs, because part of my trip was in business class and they allow more. Anyhow, all packed and off to the check in counter, all the way trying to remember what I might have left home, you always leave something, the trick is making it something that you can live without, or replace inexpensively once you arrive. The other vital part of forgetting something at home is being able to discover what it was before your flight leaves, so you can finally relax. As I fumbled with my Blackberry trying to stay on a conference call, and unload the bags from the car, I realized that my earpiece for the phone was lying on the dining room table at home. A small smile was warranted and a sigh of relief as I resolved myself to live with out it. Two dropped calls latter I finally gave up on the conference call and put away the Blackberry to focus in on what I was doing.
I made the mistake of answering the clerk honestly when he asked how long I would be in France. He became very concerned and started doing some kind of search on his computer as we waited patiently. After several minutes he looked up with concern and stated that I could only be in France for 3 months without a visa. I explained that Disney was arranging everything and that I would be fine, and he felt the need to inform his supervisor that there would be a group of us coming through that had the same situation and that no one should be concerned as Disney was taking care of things for us. We said our farewell’s to each other and the travelers in the line behind us couldn’t wait to get to the counter, obviously upset that I had taken so long.
Betty and I had a nice quiet lunch, ironically at Macaroni Grill, and I wanted to get some Euros to have when I landed so we went to the exchange counter and a little sign showed that the clerk would be back about 45 minutes latter, so we went to the other end of the terminal where the other exchange was, and apparently the two clerks were having lunch together because that stand was vacant as well.
We strolled to the gate entrance where we spent a few tender moments saying our goodbye’s and finally realizing that the line was getting longer and time shorter, I headed for the gauntlet that the check in process ha s become since security has been tightened. I was instructed to the far right line, and as it turned out that was where all the wheelchair bound passengers go as well, only they get to go ahead of anybody in line, so three times we all had to move ourselves and our bags over to accommodate the elderly and their entourage. Next time I am getting a wheelchair myself. Betty made the wait bearable by standing on the other side of the glass wall, where I could see her and just prior to getting the go ahead to go through the check in, I looked over, winked and blew a kiss to her, that was returned in an instant and with a slight smile and a wave of her hand she said more than anyone could hope for.
On to the plane and getting settled in for the 2 hour flight was eventless, other than sitting next to a very nice lady, and by nice I mean she didn’t want to talk the whole way, but was courteous and smiled cordially. In Delluse, I found out that the departure time was delayed, so here I am in Delluse using my time to start this log and to alert those that will meet me in France. Next stop Paris………..
I am writing this as I sit and wait for a connecting flight that will take me from the warm comfort of my home in Orlando Fl. To the uncertain and according to the news a cold and moist France, where I will spend six months with project Lumiere. More on the project later, when I learn exactly what it is I will be doing.
The departure from Orlando was calm and collected, well as much as it could be, needless to say, anytime someone is leaving his family for six months there is bound to be some anxiety on everyone’s part. Betty, took me to the airport and helped carry my two large suitcases and my carry on to the check in desk. The two suitcases became necessary after I found out it was going to cost over $600 to ship what I thought I needed to survive. I made a quick trip to JC Penny’s and spent $80 on a large, but legal to the airport case with in line skate wheels and two smaller cases, that I have left home this time, only because I couldn’t figure out how to roll all of these from place to place by myself without leaving any o f them unguarded. I even spent a few minutes trying to remember how the riddle was solved about the fox, the corn and the rooster crossing the river, then I decided I had better things to resolve, like do I pack underwear or Kraft Macaroni and Cheese? You will be happier with the visual of the Macaroni being stored in the pantry at home, so we will leave it at that. A quick reprioritization of every article I had originally packed, some juggling between the two suitcases and my carry on bag, and some careful math as I weighed myself on the bathroom scale, and then holding a bag, re-weighted myself to determine if I had exceeded the 50 pound limit. I latter found out that the limit would be 75 lbs, because part of my trip was in business class and they allow more. Anyhow, all packed and off to the check in counter, all the way trying to remember what I might have left home, you always leave something, the trick is making it something that you can live without, or replace inexpensively once you arrive. The other vital part of forgetting something at home is being able to discover what it was before your flight leaves, so you can finally relax. As I fumbled with my Blackberry trying to stay on a conference call, and unload the bags from the car, I realized that my earpiece for the phone was lying on the dining room table at home. A small smile was warranted and a sigh of relief as I resolved myself to live with out it. Two dropped calls latter I finally gave up on the conference call and put away the Blackberry to focus in on what I was doing.
I made the mistake of answering the clerk honestly when he asked how long I would be in France. He became very concerned and started doing some kind of search on his computer as we waited patiently. After several minutes he looked up with concern and stated that I could only be in France for 3 months without a visa. I explained that Disney was arranging everything and that I would be fine, and he felt the need to inform his supervisor that there would be a group of us coming through that had the same situation and that no one should be concerned as Disney was taking care of things for us. We said our farewell’s to each other and the travelers in the line behind us couldn’t wait to get to the counter, obviously upset that I had taken so long.
Betty and I had a nice quiet lunch, ironically at Macaroni Grill, and I wanted to get some Euros to have when I landed so we went to the exchange counter and a little sign showed that the clerk would be back about 45 minutes latter, so we went to the other end of the terminal where the other exchange was, and apparently the two clerks were having lunch together because that stand was vacant as well.
We strolled to the gate entrance where we spent a few tender moments saying our goodbye’s and finally realizing that the line was getting longer and time shorter, I headed for the gauntlet that the check in process ha s become since security has been tightened. I was instructed to the far right line, and as it turned out that was where all the wheelchair bound passengers go as well, only they get to go ahead of anybody in line, so three times we all had to move ourselves and our bags over to accommodate the elderly and their entourage. Next time I am getting a wheelchair myself. Betty made the wait bearable by standing on the other side of the glass wall, where I could see her and just prior to getting the go ahead to go through the check in, I looked over, winked and blew a kiss to her, that was returned in an instant and with a slight smile and a wave of her hand she said more than anyone could hope for.
On to the plane and getting settled in for the 2 hour flight was eventless, other than sitting next to a very nice lady, and by nice I mean she didn’t want to talk the whole way, but was courteous and smiled cordially. In Delluse, I found out that the departure time was delayed, so here I am in Delluse using my time to start this log and to alert those that will meet me in France. Next stop Paris………..
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