I Wanted to Kiss The Irish Ground

Our flight out of Paris Beauvois was at 12:35 pm, which meant we had to be at the bus depot at 9:30 (3 hrs before our flight per instruction), which means we had to leave our hostel at the latest 8:30 since it was so far off the beaten path and we would have to change metro lines a few times before arriving at Port Maillot which was near the bus station. We got up at about 7:45, got ready, packed our bags, had some baguette for breakfast and bid our Korean friends goodbye. Laure dominated on the crutches back to the metro station. Unsure of how often the bus ran and having warnings from Stacy about the slow pace of the Beauvois airport, I was anxious to get the bus station. After finally navigating ourselves there (part of which was crossing 6 lanes of traffic), we boarded the bus and headed to Beauvois.

Beauvois Airport is officially my least favorite airport in the world. Literally it has 5 gates, so you would think that it is simple and easy to navigate through. Not the case. Instead of being simple, it was mass chaos. Ofcourse we had to check in again even though we had our boarding passes. The line was ridiculously long, and they had all of one person worked the desk for our Dublin flight. There were probably 5 flights going on at the same time as ours, and although there was 18 check in desks, they placed all the flights in the first 6 desks. The lines were just a mass mob, and disorder was not my friend. We literally waited in line for an hour to get our passports checked. There was a hippie looking African who held up the line for at least 15 minutes as he debated checking his guitar. Ofcourse people tried to cut in line, and I was having none of that. I had enough of the pushiness. RyanAir has a history of declining people boarding if they arrive late, so I was anxious about getting checked in (even though half our flight was in line with us). We finally got everything checked at 11:30 and a man came over the intercom saying our flight was now boarding. Hmm… we still had an hour to take off. We waiting in line to go through passport control and had our passport checked again in line and then at the desk. A woman a few people in front of me was carrying a Minnie Mouse balloon through the airport (must have been acquired at Disneyland Paris) and I was just in shock that this woman would think that a helium balloon would be able to be taken on an airplane. Hello, security first. Put a balloon through the conveyer belt, I dare you. Then imagine her bringing this balloon on the plane. I’m sure her neighbor would appreciate Minnie floating above them the whole flight. Alas, Minnie was dropped at Security, but it was great to see the expressions of the Passport Control men and everyone else in line. I made it through Passport control and then it was security, where they checked my passport AGAIN. Through security no problem and then I found the chaotic line to board. I waited for Laura and Claire in line figuring at least we’d be closer to boarding when they joined me. But they were delayed at security. Claire had to get her bag searched and Laura was ask to remove both her shoes and socks and was asked if she was “concelling something” and that’s why she was limping. No, that would be the stress fracture, but thanks. By the time they made it in line, I had been moved up to the front of the line (checked my passport again #5) and onto the tarmac. I tried waiting for them there, but I was asked (or told forcefully) in French to board the plane. Well I’m not sure that’s what he said, but from the body language that’s what I gathered. I got on the plane and found an aisle seat near the front as I waited for Laura to board so we could all get in the 2^nd row. The flight took off, and I read the inflight magazine (complete with RyanAir’s Miss March) and tried to sleep. It’s a short flight and before I knew it, we were going down to land. Ofcourse the cabin pressure must have changed rapidly because my ears were in so much pain, I felt like a toddler with an ear infection. It was so painful I was ready to chop my ears off. I hung my head in bad and tried to relieve the pressure, praying that we would land as fast as possible. We finally got below the clouds and my ears popped, and my demand was fulfilled. We went speedily down towards the ground, swaying, and not flying straight. Claire, Laura, and I looked at each other in panic. This did not seem like the smooth landing we were hoping for. Claire and I felt assured that we would land safely, we had spent a good portion of our weekend in church after all. I closed my eyes and said a little prayer as we landed with a shaky thud. The flight attendant played the celebratory landing music and we all let out a sigh of relief. “Another one time Ryan Air flight”. Okay, something like that. When we got ready to disembark, we understood our landing a little better. Gusty winds were blowing and we almost toppled down the stairs. We got inside the airport, found a bathroom, and made our way to passport control. After having to duck under the multiple ropes, we made it to the Non-EU passport line. The passport guys asked Laura about her foot, and I realized again why I love the Irish. Geniune concern. Thank you Ireland, it’s good to be home. The airport was bustling because of the Easter Holiday and it was crowded going through customs (a problem we’d never experienced). We found our favorite blue & orange AirCoach and boarded. The ride home went by quickly as I utilized the WiFi to catch up on my emails. Off at the Montrose and walked home. I was thrilled to be home. Paris is beautiful, but Dublin has become home. I relaxed for a bit, caught up on life, and showered. Miss Jen had planned a post Easter Easter dinner, so I headed to her apartment at 6. Claire and Laura joined me, and Claire had gone all domestic and made Deviled Eggs. Match had promised us a traditional Easter feast but after finding an Easter ham was 81 Euro, she decided to make Fettucini with Ham and Peas and a cream sauce. Very Martha Stewart. Dinner turned into a team activity as we had to convert between metric and cups and utlilze creative ways to measure things since no one has a fully stocked kitchen. We enjoyed each others company, and laughed a lot as we prepared the meal. Stacy joined us, as well as their two French roommates (who were pleasantly delightful) and another Canadian named Arty. We told them about our Paris adventures and everything from A to Z. Dinner was ready, and absolutely deliscious. We enjoyed some wine with our meal and it was like home. Jen had picked some daffodils so the table was festive. We all laughed at about how this meal had more ingredients then anything we’d eaten in months. Martha had made us make homemade chicken stock, talk about legit. We finished our meal and then the wondrous French girls made us homemade crepes. It was like we never left Paris. The dessert conversation became very cultural, taking about stereotypes and how Arty had never met an American and was panicked when he moved into his UCD apartment full of Americans. The only thing he knew about Americans was “what he saw in movies” and when asked what movies he said “American Pie”. Ahh fine American culture. I was blown away that he’d never experienced America(ns) since he lives in Vancouver which is about as close to America as you can get without actually being there. We also ended up talking about World History and googling facts. Ah how I miss my smartphone.

After about three hours of joyous dinner and celebration, we bid farewell to our friends, new and old, and headed home. I got back to my room and had a wonderful Skype session with Miss Erin McClure who I had missed ferociously. It was great to see her face again, we’d never gone more than a few days without talking since first meeting that fateful orientation day Freshmen year. I had just registered for my classes for next fall (aka SENIOR YEAR OF COLLEGE) so we were both a little freaked out. After chatting it up with her for a bit, and then with the rest of the clan, I fell asleep happy.