The next several blog posts will be about our three-week adventure in Europe, what I am calling our “last big trip.” Well, you can’t blame me for putting my foot down. If you have been following the blog, you know that the last several experiences in getting to our destination have been stressful. In 2021 following Christmas our flight to the BVIs for the “Last Hurrah” bareboat charter with our children and grandchildren was cancelled forcing us to fly on a tiny plane carrying only four other passengers to land on the island of Virgin Gorda, not on Tortola where the main airport is.   In a blinding rainstorm, we finally made a bumpy landing on a dirt road masquerading as a runway–the last try before the pilot had to return to San Juan. The rest of the family made it to Tortola, got checked out for the charter, and sailed the boat in rough seas to Virgin Gorda where they picked us up for a fabulous Christmas week cruise. The last three trips have also been stressful. I have failed to make it through security without extreme difficulty on each one—to Costa Rica (passport was due to expire), Puerto Rica (eye identification failure), and Charlotte, NC, (gun shown on security cameras to be hidden in groin area). Each time it was touch and go if we would get to the gate before the doors closed, but we made it by a hair. That is why I announced a few months ago to Embry that I was finished. Done. Flying days over. Too old to go through these unpleasantries again.

“You can’t quit now,” she replied. “Remember that in late July we are going to the Olympics in Paris with Andrew’s family….”

 I begrudgingly conceded.

Now it is not like we have never traveled and are not used to stress. It is part of the experience. Embry reminded me that between us we have visited or lived in (for short periods) over 50 different countries, including many in Africa and Asia. While we both love to travel, I give Embry full credit for organizing our trips.  Mostly we have avoided group tours. The highlight some readers may recall was our 2015 four-month journey around the world without flying. But we are older now.  I am now almost halfway through my 83^rd year.  Embry is four years younger. All good things eventually come to an end.

And on this trip we would mostly be on our own again. The plan was to fly business class to Paris where we would meet our son, Andrew, who had volunteered to be our tour guide and driver for the first leg and was flying from Newark.  We would  rent a car at the airport and drive about 100 miles to Rennes for two nights and then another 100 miles to Quimper in Brittany where we would spend two nights with our dear friend and (former) sister-in-law, Martine, and her partner,Bernard, and then drive back to Rennes, leave our car and take the train back to Paris where Embry had  reserved an Air B&B near the Bastille in Paris where we would meet up with the rest of Andrew’s family. We would join them for several of the Paris 2014 Olympic events and then after ten days in Paris take the train to Lyon where  Embry had booked a river cruise down the Soane, part of a German speaking group tour. Since neither of us speaks German, it sounded to me a bit odd, but I have learned not to second guess Embry. I am sure it will be fine since I have never met a German who did not speak at least some English. But still. Many moving parts and opportunities for mishaps.

And for us the first leg of our journeys recently have been the most challenging. So off we headed for Dulles to catch a United Flight to Paris on Sunday, July 28. I was bracing for the worst. The amount of time it usually takes to get from the ticket and bag check area to our departure gate at Dulles is no less than 45 minutes and involves a walk of over a mile. At times it has taken hours. That is why for this trip we arrived with over two hours to spare. This would be our first major hurdle. I could not help wondering what would go wrong this time.

When we got out of our Uber car and entered  into the United Airlines section, it was the usual chaos with long lines everywhere, troubled parents with screaming children, confused passengers with flights cancelled, people desperately charging toward the mile-long security lines. I noted that we still had plenty of time to make it to the gate but there was the lingering fear of what offense they were going to charge me with this time.

Surprise Number One. The total time required to get from the United international desk and baggage check to the gate was under twenty minutes!

How did we do it? Exhausted from our last three airport episodes,  Embry surprised me this time  by reserving a wheelchair for me. It was not like she was cheating. Due to my balance issues and nagging pain in my left knee, I now get by with the help of a hiking/walking stick, but I inch along. So a wheelchair made sense, and technically speaking I am handicapped.  But the main reason was that a friend told Embry that nowadays the only way to navigate through security and boarding without extreme hardship is to reserve a wheelchair. A wheelchair escort cheerfully welcomed us, checked me in with no hassle, and with Embry following us rushed us past the long security line to a special line for wheelchairs where no one was waiting and clearing security was no problem, and then off to the races toward the gate. Since we were early, he pushed me along to the United Club waiting area, patted me on the back and then cheerfully departed with the wheelchair—along with my carryon bag, which he had placed below the seat. Realizing what had happened, Embry charged off and caught up with him just before he entered the United transit bus gate back to the main terminal. Disaster averted. Close call number one.

At the gate an attendant pushed my wheelchair to the front of the line where we were the first to board. While far from perfect, business class is surely easier than coach, and the flight to Paris was without incident.

But what wil happen next? The first leg of this adventure in my thinking could be the most challenging. We had to get ourselves from Charles de Gaul Airport to Orly where we would meet Andrew’s flight several hours later, then rent a car and drive to Rennes, several hours away. Lots of opportunities for incidents….

Stay tuned.