We met the rest of the group at a cafe, where we "processed." I think we were all feeling many of the same things. A renewed interest in the Holocaust. Confused about Diaspora Jewry, excited about Budapest, scared about the growing anti-Semitism in Eastern Europe.
And that was that. We boarded a little bus that took us to the airport. We were there very, very early so Kate, Shoshana, and I entertained ourselves with Scrabble-type games.
And then I was off to Paris!
I arrived in the Charles de Gaulle Airport later than expected. I found my luggage and then a payphone where I called the company with which I had reserved a shuttle.
It rang and rang. I called and called. Finally, I accepted the fact that despite having paid 30 euros (which was later refunded to me) I would have to find an alternative mode of transportation.
It took a while but finally I figured out that I could take the Roissy bus from the airport to the Opera, where I could catch a cab to the apartment Mom and I had rented. The bus ride was smooth, but when I arrived at the Opera house I couldn't hail a cab!
They kept whizzing past me like I was invisible. Finally, I saw a sign across the street. TAXIS. I reasoned that people in Paris wait in line for taxis and crossed the street. I saw Jake and Shoshana waiting in line too and waved excitedly, glad to see familiar faces. My excitement dwindled quickly as 20, 30, 40 minutes passed without the line getting much shorter. More than an hour later, I finally got in a cab, climbed the 5 flights (84 steps) up, threw my arms around my Mommy, and collapsed into bed.
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