We haven't left Sacramento yet, but Yvette has already activated her inner Peggy Guggenheim.
What? Who is Peggy Guggenheim?
Peggy Guggenheim was the daughter of uber rich Benjamin Guggenheim. Those of you who have seen Titantic several dozen times (like me) may remember Mr. Guggenheim sitting in his evening clothes, watching with crazy-eyes wide open as chaos and a lot of water broke out around him. Anyway, Peggy grew up with the Guggenheim millions, and she used those ill-gotten gains to the benefit of modern art, supporting (and screwing) several important artists of the pre-World War II period. Anyway, in those heady days of the 1930s, Peggy and her pals were intrepid travelers, running roughshod across Europe and constantly getting into mischief. Because of her ability to be cool under pressure and overcome all obstacles put in her traveling path, Yvette and I channel our "inner Peggy" in times of travel crisis.
Last night, about 9 p.m., I got a call from Yvette that began with the ominous words "don't panic." Our direct flight from San Francisco to Paris had been cancelled due to the Air France pilots' strike. I tried to channel my inner Peggy but could get nowhere with a phone that wouldn't allow me to make a call to Paris (all American offices being closed). But Yvette stepped up--big time. She discovered that Air France was affiliated with Delta and, after a couple of hours of phone calls, managed to get us on a flight today at 7:15 a.m. to Seattle, from where we will hop a flight to Paris. While our well-laid plans went to hell, the important thing to remember is that Yvette didn't panic but went immediately to work to find a solution. She was totally Peggy!
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| The Amazing Peggy |
So, we're here at Sacramento's airport, waiting for our flight, ready to get on board, ready to begin our adventure.
10:20 a.m., Seattle-Tacoma REAL International Airport
Damn, we are just the most disorganized travelers ever. Yvette forgot her curling iron (bought special for the trip and an item I intended to use on my unruly locks) while I left my new sweater in the terminal. While Yvette may have to spring for a new Parisian curling iron, a flight attendent was kind enough to fetch my sweater for me.
And now we've had some breakfast here in Seattle and are just killing time until we board our flight to France.
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| The lovely Yvette gets ready for breakfast at SEA-TAC |
Here's the sign outside the Mountain Room Bar at SEA-TAC where we breakfasted:
Please! Who the hell is running around this airport?
It's now 2:30 p.m. Sacramento time,11:30 p.m. Paris time. We're finally flying after what seemed to be the longest time taxing to the runway. Now, I'm in my seat, I'm able to sit back and watch....
That's right--Grey's Anatomy!
Lunch was a delicious southwestern chicken thing, which I enjoyed with a glass of mediocre white wine. As Yvette and I are sitting in consecutive rows, I have made friends with a young Ukrainian man seated to my left. He, too, enjoyed the chicken, albeit with a glass of red.
That's enough for today, the 21st. I'll blog some more on the 22nd, from beautiful, beguiling Paris.
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