The Return Odyssey, Part 2

The next day, I woke up with the intentions of figuring out how I was going to make it home (after my complimentary breakfast, of course). I met up with a couple from San Diego who was trying to get home from a vacation in Europe, so together we all attempted calling the British Airways hotline. All BA passengers were advised not to come back to Heathrow unless we had confirmed a flight reservation with our airline, so naturally the BA hotline was down. I figured that avoiding the airport may be a good decision, so I booked myself on a Eurostar train from London to Paris via the Chunnel (the tunnel that goes underneath the English Channel). After my booking was completed, I received a message from Eurostar saying that there were problems with some of the trains due to the weather and that certain trips may be disrupted. Thanks for the advance warning.

I checked out of the hotel and hopped on the Tube to St. Pancras International train station. What was to be found there? All Eurostar services had been suspended following the failure of several trains entering the Chunnel and passengers were being advised to postpone their travel if it was "non-essential." Back to the drawing board. I sat down on the metal benches in the station (open air station in England I should add- a certain region of my body was numb by the time I was finished) and tried to Skype British Airways to rebook myself. After about 20 minutes I was put through to an operator and booked on a flight later that day. I packed up my things and hopped on the Tube once again for an hour long journey back to the Lion's Den, better know as Heathrow.

Once in Heathrow, everything went (mostly) as planned with only a small delay to my flight. I arrived in Paris around 11pm, finally in my destination country but with no more trains leaving the city for the night. Thankfully, my incredible former boss from my semester abroad in 2007 told me I could spend the night at her house (I am forever grateful, Carrie!). The upside? I got to spend all of the next day walking around Paris. So unfortunate...

Friday night rolls around after a day in Paris and lo-and-behold, there's snow in the south of France. Trains are being delayed in departure and slowed during the journey adding 1-3 hours to the journey. Or so I thought. My train left at 10pm, and throughout the night the conductors kept making announcements pushing the arrival times back. 2:30am in Montpellier. 3:30am. 5am. In the end, we pulled into the train station at 6am, just as Saturday's early travelers were arriving to find their trains.

And so concludes the 1 day journey that turned into 4 days spread over 3 countries. Unexpected? Yes. Ridiculous? A bit. Worth the travel story? Definitely.

The Return Odyssey, Part 1

Now that I've made it back from the holidays at home and settled back into this side of the pond, I would like to submit for your reading pleasure The Return Odyssey of 2010:

Rewind to the night of January 5. Location: Ellicott City, MD. I was booked on a British Airways flight direct from Baltimore to London Heathrow Airport, with a connecting flight to Paris. After this, I had timed my arrival perfectly so that I could catch a train direct to my town and arrive by dinnertime. I logged onto the BA website before leaving the house to make everything was in place for my flight when I saw a message at the top of the screen: "Attention- UK flight disruptions due to severe winter weather. Check the status of your flight here." I proceeded to check my flight and as luck would have it I had no delays or cancellations.

I arrive at BWI, went through security (with my extra carry on I was hoping wouldn't cause any problems in tow), and made it to the gate with plenty of time. Fast forward to 7 hours later when we're landing in London to the double-edged news that the UK is currently experiencing the worst snow storm in a decade, but that Heathrow is one of the only airports still open so we would be landing without a problem at 9am local time. Not worried in the slightest, I gathered my bags, went down the moveable staircase, and got bussed into the terminal. Enter chaos.

With the winter weather wreaking havoc up and down the UK, flights were being cancelled left and right. I found out my Paris connection was cancelled (when I confidently tried to stroll through security to my next gate), so I did an about-face to find the hour and a half long line I had to wait in to rebook. As the British would say, I queued for the better part of two hours until I was finally rebooked on a later flight that day. Still unworried, I went through security and found a place in the Terminal 5 waiting area (about the size of a moderate sized airplane hangar) where I could eat lunch and relax. Next flight time comes....and goes. We sit at the gate for about 45 minutes before they finally put us on buses and get us out to the plane. Add another 2 hours of waiting inside the plane to be deiced and the final announcement that Heathrow Airport has been closed and all flights are cancelled. So close.

We waited a bit more for the arrival of the moving stairs and bus to return us to the terminal and finally made it back inside. I later found out that we were among the lucky ones, since some planes arriving throughout the day had waits of up to 6 hours before crews could come to unload them. Back inside the terminal, I've now realized that I have missed my non-refundable train from Paris, will not be leaving London tonight, and have to stand again in a line for hotel vouchers that now stretches at least a quarter of a mile. After that 2 hour wait, I then had the great fortune of having to stand in the "Other Passports" line (all non-UK and EU citizens) to go through customs. An educated guess would tell me that there were around 1000 people in this line.

Almost 3 hours later, I was allowed through to go downstairs and find the bus to my hotel. On the way, I passed the battlefield of unclaimed bags that covered the floor after airport officials stopped letting passengers reclaim their bags.

I arrived at the Ibis Heathrow around 1:30am. Mind you, I first arrived in Heathrow at 9am. Myself and a few other stranded flyers enter the hotel to find that they have been inundated and are booked, but have called a taxi service to take us to the Ibis Earl's Court in central London. We finally arrive there and get into our rooms around 2:30am, where I checked in with my parents stateside and passed out in bed.

Home for the Holidays

Between snow across Europe and the Blizzard of '09 over here, I somehow dodged a huge bullet coming home from France and didn't have any problems in transit. We had to wait at the departure gate in Paris for a few minutes as the passengers from a connecting flight from Nice ran to the plane, but other than that all was well.

I had my first "welcome to America" moment when I got off the plane and was going through customs. There were three televisions mounted on the wall next to the line: 1) baggage claim information for arriving flights, 2) customs procedures and information, and 3) Sportscenter. God bless America.

I hope I can see you all while I'm back. I'll be here till January 5 so give me a ring on my old cell phone. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to everyone!

I'll Be Home for Christmas (I Hope)

I’m currently sitting on the TGV (high speed train) on my way from Montpellier to Paris where I’ll fly out tomorrow morning for the US. Weather the past few days has been a bit precarious in northern France with snow causing some travel problems in Paris, a city not quite used to winter weather. We’ve even had an arctic blast of weather down in the South of France where daytime temps went from 12ºC (54ºF) to around -5ºC (23ºF) on some days. Apparently the South isn’t all beaches and palm trees as you might think. I’ve also been tracking the surprise blizzard I had not anticipated that just roared into DC and up the East Coast. I’m hoping I won’t face any flight problems with this since I leave about 24 hours after the snow will stop, but I’ll keep you posted on that one.

Unexpected as it is, this bit of winter weather is making for a nice journey northward as I look out the train windows: Christmas music playing on my computer, snow covered French countryside, and Christmastime at home getting closer and closer. Can’t beat it. See you all stateside.

A new 2012 Democratic ticket, à la française

In order to get my kids practicing their spoken English and learning important American figures, I’ve put together an activity I call “Who Are You?” In the game, each student receives a piece of paper with an answer followed by an unrelated clue. I start by reading my clue and whichever student has the answer to it on their paper stands up, reads it, and continues with their own clue. The game goes full circle throughout the entire class so that everyone identifies himself or herself until it comes back to me again as the last answer. These clues can range from historical figures to athletes to pop stars and other celebrities. I’ve also thrown in some important cities and events in the later, more difficult rounds.

My class and I got a pretty good laugh one day during this game when a student threw in their guess to a clue that was being read. The clue was “You were a former senator from the state of Delaware and are now the Vice President under Barack Obama.” Most students knew that it was “the other old, white-haired guy besides John McCain” but couldn’t remember his name. One brave and slightly misinformed student decided to volunteer her answer by responding, “I am Steven Spielberg.” I think they might be on to something. Money, popularity, diversity, and Oscar statuettes in the White House. Sounds like a recipe for success.

Le système français

With about half of the school year finished, all of the Language Assistants have come to realize just how different the French education system is from our own, especially education in America. This post goes out to all the teachers and people working with young kids reading my blog- Mom, Jennifer, Wake professors, and L Rob to name a few.

The most noticeable difference in the French system is that it is very, well, systematic. The entire primary, middle, and high school experience is geared toward preparing the students for the Baccalaureate exam. The Bac is similar to our SATs, but way more intense and carrying much more weight on your future. One thing I do often with my students is to discuss texts on a variety of topics ranging from consumerism to fashion design to marketing, depending on their concentration. Without fail, every time I ask a student to present an article to me, their Bac training kicks in and their first words, as if scripted and ingrained into their minds, are “This is a news article from (insert source) written by (insert writer) published on (insert date). The title of the article is (insert title) and the subtitle is (insert subtitle).” While this may seem like nails on a chalkboard to many of us in the States, this is the preferred method of presentation when discussing an article in France.

Another major difference is how the teachers are allowed to treat students. While I haven’t experience this firsthand, several friends of mine in primary school have told stories of teachers telling their kids to shut up or even picking them up out of their chair and tossing them in the corner for punishment. Be reminded that this is public school. If that happened in America, teachers would find themselves in court faster than they could say “I am not a crook.”

One difference that I just came across this past week at our Fête de Noël (Christmas party) for all the teachers was that they do not shy away from bringing wine to school. The party was at noon on Thursday, and there were about 10 bottles of red, white, and rosé being passed around the teacher’s lounge. At 1pm, about half of the teachers cleared out to go to their classes while the rest stayed to continue the fête. Let’s try to introduce this to American schools and see what happens...

Different as it may be, each day is an adventure as I walk through the gates of Lycée Ernest Hemingway to see what awaits me . Ah, la France.

It's Christmastime in the City

Each year, Lyon, the second largest city in France, hosts the largest Festival of Lights in France. Known by the natives as the Fête des Lumières, the entire city is decked out in light displays as well as “animations,” or live, interactive projections based around different themes. Originally, the Fête was started as a way to thank the Virgin Mary for appearing in Lyon and saving the city from being ravaged by the Plague. Each year after this vision, the inhabitants of Lyon would put a candle in each window as a show of thanks, so that the tiny fires lighted the entire city. They even wrote the words “Merci Marie” in light on the hill overlooking the city (think Hollywood sign but more medieval and less glitz-and-glam). Naturally, the commercialization of such a tradition was inevitable; so a few years ago the entire thing became a spectacle of technology and tourism, attracting visitors from across the country for this one weekend in December but still maintaining its festive and charming roots.

Being a Christmas buff and not able to put up many of my own decorations this year, it was a given that I had to make it to the Fête. As most travels in France begin, I found myself at the train station one Saturday morning with a few friends, bags packed and tickets in hand. We arrived in Lyon around noon only to find that, surprise surprise, there was a grève. For those of you who don’t remember, that means a strike. For those of you who do remember, you might be worrying. Don’t. Just another day in France. As we would say here, “pas de soucis” (no worries). Of course the only metro line that was on strike was the one we needed, so we found a combo of buses to get us to the apartment of the French friend we were staying with. Once there, we were off to explore.

Lyon is split into three quartiers by its two rivers: the Rhône and the Saône. The eastern most section is the more modern area known as Part-Dieu. Between the two rivers lies the Presque-Île, or the “Almost Island”. To the west sits Vieux Lyon (Old Lyon) and the Fourvière hill that overlooks the rest of the city (in this case, my “highest point”). I can’t do the Fête justice by describing it with words, so I’ll highlight some of my favorite parts and direct everyone to the pictures below and my Picasa photo account to check out the full experience.

Le Marché de Noël (Christmas Market)- an essential of any French city’s Christmas celebrations.

La Fourvière- seeing the city from above was amazing, especially on the first night of the Fête. Here, you can see the giant Ferris wheel, two rivers, and various other light displays below.

The light buoys in the Rhône- these flickered the entire night after dark and lit up one of the prettiest parts of the river.

The food and drink- From the mulled wine to the baked potatoes stuffed with goat cheese and peppers to the bouchon Lyonnais with typical Lyonnais dishes, we were without a doubt well fed on this trip.

To check out the rest of my Fête de Lumbers pictures, go to www.picasaweb.google.com/johncmcgowan.

Joyeux Noël et très bonnes fêtes à tout le monde! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone!