I had been on a plane all night and didn't sleep a wink, as usual. I had been slightly worried about my short one hour layover in Paris, but we were early. No problem, heck I'd even have time to change my clothes and reboot my brain that it was a new day. I passed on the airline coffee, knowing full well that I had a cappuccino in Padova with my name on it. Did I mention that it was 6am?
We land and I begin my exodus down a long hallway, some stairs and onto the moving walkway. Just follow the signs for 2F, I thought, no big deal....I've got an hour and a half. And then, I round the corner to complete and utter chaos. It looks like there might have been lines to go through customs an hour or two ago, but they were long gone now. There was no one to tell you what to do, just a few signs that made no sense in a mass crowd. My flight is before 8:20am, I should listen to that sign and head to the left, but where is left? I pause for a moment, my gut instinct to turn around and find another way ignored. What do I do? Do I push my way through the crowds of people like the obnoxious British man did to my right? Do I stand and wait? I search the crowd and everyone's face has the same expression. WTF. They're doing the same, searching the crowd for someone who might speak their language or carry the same color-coded passport to follow. (We're all lemmings in that way, aren't we?) Order was nowhere in sight, so I migrated myself to the left near a line marker and slowly got in line. Off in the distance I could read that every agent was marked "All Passports." It didn't matter what line I got in, just that I got to someone who let me past the gates and hopefully put another stamp in my passport.
Unlike most people, I quickly realized that freaking out wasn't an option. I can't tell you how many people I heard utter...but my flight is in an hour. We were all in the same boat, it didn't matter if your flight was in two minutes, two hours or two days, it was going to take as long as it was going to take. Cultural differences emerged when thrust into a common, stressful situation. The polite Frenchman, ever the diplomat, negotiated his way in front of each and every person in line, pleading his case ("I've got a flight in 20 minutes") earnestly and in multiple languages. The Italian men behind me went all squirrely, hovering entirely too close, trying to cut in front of me at every turn, cursing the mess every 30 seconds and finally (and confusingly) bailing on the line near the very front to crawl over to the one next to us. I think they passed through border control at the same exact time as me, so their blatant disregard for order got them nowhere. Spaniards were smiling and joking as they barely noticed the line (maybe they were blasé or maybe they just had a later flight.) And Americans, well they asked anyone who was in a uniform for help, frantic that they would miss their flight and annoyed when every employee shrugged them off and muttered the same phrase, "don't worry, you'll have plenty of time."
I waited, watched and laughed of the spectacle of human nature and refused to look at my watch. I figured if I missed my flight, I would be able to do such luxurious activities like brush my teeth and change my clothes. I made it through (with a stamp!) and began to hustle through countless corridors and my heart sank as I spotted a sea of chauffeurs with namecards. I was on the outside and was going to have to go through security...another line. I quickened my pace flying over the moving walkways and Matisse-inspired tiles until I found yet another line, not as long, but still a line nonetheless. I panicked inside, my liquids were a mess from the previous flight. I had water to chug, lotions to round up into a bag, and yet another British man to watch as he pushed his way to the front of the line (and allowed to stay there by the security police.) I rolled my eyes as the security guard haphazardly rearranged the contents of my tray. Apparently my laptop could only share a tray with my sweater, but my shoes and liquids needed to be tossed into another bin, while I stood impatiently, barefoot on the dirtiest floor I've seen in my life. After being told to wait to go through the screening and then quickly ignored for what felt like five minutes, I decided to walk through, no one stopped me, I collected my things and rushed off to find what would soon be named the elusive gate F21. I rounded the corner and spied on a screen that my plane was boarding, no time to spare, I thought. As I eyed the gates, I saw F25, F26, F31...where were the others? Surely around a corner, I stopped in my tracks and walked back to peer around the corner, nothing. I repeated this routine once or twice, but I had no idea what time it was and my sleep deprived brain wasn't helping. I thought, you need to find someone to ask dammit, because at this point it's going to be YOUR fault if you miss this flight. There was no one to be found that wasn't screening people or searching a bag or boarding a flight. I gave up and headed to gate F25 for help, which was clearly overwhelmed with boarding passengers and I'd have to be obnoxious to get my answer. But, just as I stepped towards the gate, I spied a tiny hallway leading to stairs below and a sign for F21. I quickly began to run down the stairs, but two seconds later I stopped myself and thought "the last thing you need is to go and sprain/break something. (I have a history of doing that sort of thing.) So I hurriedly walked down the stairs, found my gate, got in line and was the last to board the bus to take me to the plane. I tried to calm down, but not before I grabbed a wifi connection on my iPod and twittered my disgust...it was going to be a long day.
I feel your pain, I think my heart even skipped a beat in empathy :)
Wow - I have been to CDG many, many, many times and have only had one bad day right after the collapse of the terminal when they were still trying to figure out how to redirect people. But it was a single instance and not the norm. But I do enjoy watching other cultures dealing with an issue, it is fascinating to see the differences play out!
I thought CDG was pretty overwhelming as well, and it certainly doesn't help when you've been flying overnight. Heck, I was overwhelmed when we showed up for a departing flight and I had to figure out where I was supposed to find the ticket counters.
Fortunately, I was able to find many very helpful people who could get me pointed in the right direction. And, you summed up the key -- don't freak out!
It's funny because Austin warned me about CDG before I bought my ticket and I told him he was being too paranoid. I didn't remember it being any worse than any other major airport. I realized as I was going through customs that I never flew through before, but had only left from there and that I didn't have timing issues because I got to the airport with plenty of time to spare.
The funny thing is, if I had been any more awake, I probably would have freaked out...so jetlag is good for something! ;)
I actually got a little short of breath reading your post! I had a similar experience in Heathrow, which of course is much less bewildering than CDG but is so much bigger that it can still be a real challenge if you're trying to get to or go from the international terminal.
Oh no, I'm flying through here en-route home for Christmas. At least I'll be mentally prepared now!
Of all airports, and people say that LHR is the worst, I cannot stand CDG. It is a complete mystery to me as to how the French, with their love for all things beautiful and aesthetically pleasing, managed to construct such a monstrosity in Roissy.
And the worst part is, in the "Golden Age" of European Aviation, Le Bourget was known as one of the three great European Airports (The other being Tempelhof in Berlin and Croydon in London).
The only plus side of that giant concrete 1-terminal (but we try to make it look like 4) megalith is that it does have very convenient connections to downtown Paris, so if you have anything more than a 4-5 hour stop, you have no excuse to take the RER into Denfert for some coffee on the Elysee.
I have been through CDG many times. My first time was the worst experience. It was right after the collapse of one of the new terminals. The customs lines were all redirected to one place and there were no lines guiding people in line. It was anarchy, a massive free for all. Needless to say, I didn't make my flight, but was able to catch another one a few hours later thankfully.
Since that, I have had good experiences. If you have a connection from the US to another terminal, it is best to make sure you have 2 hours at least, especially in the summer to be safe. I have been timing my connections the last few times through CDG and it normally takes me around 60 minutes to get from one terminal to the next. Going through security, customs, etc. But I have had it take over an hour and a half.
I know my way around the airport now, so it is makes it much easier to navigate now. I would rather fly through CDF than London. My favorite airport in Europe is the airport in Amsterdam, but I have only had a few connections through there unfortunately.
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