Paris to New York with surprisingly debilitating jet lag.

Kids looking happy before I leave

Last day in Paris - perfect weather - Palais Royale

Desmond Tutu Centre - New York

As I write this I’m somewhere high above the Atlantic munching tex mex nachos – nasty aftertaste, I should have avoided them.  This is the first aircraft where my camera case won’t fit in the overhead locker – it even fitted on Jetstar back from Byron Bay and Easyjet to Lyon.  Thankfully they must be aware of the shortcomings of their overhead locker as they announced that anyone who couldn’t fit their bag in the locker could bring it up the front for them to stow it (better than in the hold).  This might be a drag across the rest of America.

The woman next to me works for Christofle and brought me up to speed with disability regulations in France versus US (as she encounters them in retail).  In both countries they have regulations that dictate how much room there must be between displays to allow people with mobility aides to move freely around the stores.  I don’t see much evidence of that in Australia.  She says that in France it’s governed by the unions but in America it’s legislated and that’s more powerful.  I must say I didn’t see many disabled people at all in France and much of it was not particularly easy but then also parts were okay such as cutouts in kerbs – all there but sometimes rugged due to ubiquitous cobblestones.  Quite a few lifts but often not obvious and needing staff to assist.  For example when we went to the arc de Triomphe I noticed a lift as we were leaving that might have been available for a person with a disability like Stella but I didn’t see any evidence of it on arrival and assumed there wasn’t one.  That might also have something to do with language and being less inclined to ask about it in French.  Anyhow I’m looking forward to getting stuck into things in America but first I have quite a few phone calls to make as several appointments are not quite well enough locked in yet for my liking.

American Airlines know how to do boring. A 7+ hour flight to New York and only 2 in flight movies – one I’ve seen and don’t need to see again – Where The Wild Things Are and another about Aliens that I never need to see.  I do like to while away the sky miles with an in flight movie or 5 so this is rather disappointing especially after Qantas who really know how to do long flights – I guess because we’re so far from everywhere its always long haul on Qantas.  I should be thankful that this isn’t really a long flight and all I have is a series of relatively short flights until home – no 24 hour marathon for me.  Which is more than I can say for poor Geoffrey and the children.  They have a 30 hour marathon ahead of them including 7 hours in Dubai – I say take a tour in an aircon taxi!  I hope Emirates is good to them.

Today was the last day in Paris and the weather was stunning – sunny and 25 degrees.  I wanted to do a little last minute shopping this morning (mostly really boring stuff like toothpaste from the pharmacy that I can’t get at home) but I also had my eye on a necklace so I was horrified to find when I went downstairs that most of the shops were ferme/closed.  What’s that?  The French do have some old fashioned ideas about retail hours.  Actually I think it’s a great idea for shops to be closed a bit more often but I’d just like to be able to anticipate when that might be.  Saturday morning took me by surprise frankly.  Anyway the pharmacies were open and also there was a little half hearted street market nearby where I did my final bit of French food shopping – raspberries, strawberries, baguette.  Rocquetfort at home – perfect lunch.  Baguette rocquefort sandwich followed by berries aplenty.   The little jewellery shop that had the necklace I wanted was ferme so I consoled myself with a box of lovely hand made chocolates and sweets to send home with the family under strict instructions – do not open until I get home.

Geoffrey then took a turn vanishing for an hour or so while I fought off the children and packed my bags with half a brain (the children monopolising the other half).

When Geoffrey returned some of the little shops in the arcades were beginning to open and there was some hope that the jewellery shop might open at around 1400h – only an hour before my taxi to the airport.  So we headed off for one last walk.  The streets were semi deserted but just enough going on to be interesting without being crowded.  We found ourselves at one of my favourite places the Palais Royale – just glorious on a sunny afternoon.  Just enough time for a quick promenade around the gardens and past the shops and then back to the apartment.  Sadly the jewellery shop was still closed.  We stood there gazing into the darkened shop forlornly … and then joy of joys the man arrive at 1420h.  Just enough time to decide on exactly which necklace was best and make the purchase.  Now wait for it this is a necklace made of sunglasses – very rock n roll.  I love it.  Will make sure I’m photographed in it in the coming days.  Happiness – it’s nice to have a funky piece of jewellery to remind me of Paris.  I’ve really not shopped much at all so far so this was a nice treat.

then ....

Arrived from Paris last night – got to my room about 4am Paris time – 10pm NY time.  Thanks to my friend Geri I’m staying at the Desmond Tutu Centre, which appears to be an old seminary that has been renovated to provide accommodation.  The renovation is lovely and the room is really nice and comfortable but it’s not a hotel and there’s no food or room service other than a vending machine in the corridor, which I found today.  I guess it’s the same as the hotel I stayed at in London but the problem was that I woke up starving at about 4am.  There’s also no fridge or milk in the room – only powdered milk provided (only in America) yuk and a weird coffee making contraption that’s not a kettle but also makes tea.  So at 4 am I woke up starving and had a cup of green tea and half a block of the most beautiful French chocolate I have ever tasted.  Brought from Paris of course for emergencies.

Another hour or so of not really sleeping and then I decide to get up and find food.

How many different ways are there to turn on a shower you may ask?  I asked myself this very question as I stood at 5.45am next to a shower with cold running water.  I want it hot!!!! How do I make it hot?????  Honestly I may lack imagination but before I left Australia I could have maybe named 2-3 different ways to turn on a shower but now – how many places have I stayed?  I think every one of them has a different and puzzling mechanism for getting oneself a hot shower and when you’re half asleep, jet lagged and hungry at 4 am it’s just too bewildering and the brain just doesn’t want to go into the details of diverse shower design.  I think our basic hot and cold taps – a bit more hot a bit less cold are almost third world standard – but at least I understand what to do.

So showered and hungry at 6.30am I headed out into the chill crisp New York Street in search of food.  I didn’t need to go far before I found a couple of 24 hour old style diners.  I chose the one that looked the most like it came out of a sitcom.  The waiter was super friendly (as everyone here seems to be) and the omelette would have bounced nicely off the wall, bolstered as it was by an elastic yellow substance they called cheese.  After a liberal sprinkling of salt it became edible – just.  The potato mush on the side was unsalvageable.  Fresh orange juice and a reasonable strong cappuccino (except for the sweet cinnamon sprinkled on top) salvaged the meal.  The waiter was curious about why I was there at that hour as the only other patron was an elderly skeleton with a cystic fibrosis like cough who was probably only weeks away from needing oxygen in order to breathe.  I was happy to tell him about my travels and he seemed genuinely envious of my chance to see more of the United States than he ever had.

So far the Americans have affirmed my faith in the humanity of the individual to do the best by those they encounter.  So friendly and such good company – in a weird way.  Even my trip through immigration was like something out of a bad Aussie comedy.  My expectations of US immigration were stern and serious – after all security is paramount according to the looped video I watched about 76 times in the queue.  Imagine my surprise at encountering the most enthusiastic Australia-phile who just wanted to sped time in the company of yet another Australian.   He was so proud of the Saints cap he had on his desk – he’d been to Melbourne for a Saints home and away game earlier this year and followed the grand final with interest.  He was also looking forward to being in Melbourne for the Melbourne Cup and spring racing week – for the drinking and festivities rather than the horses.  He even proudly showed me a tube of vegemite he had stashed in his bag.  In between taking my fingerprints and photo for the giant US computer of data on everyone in the world it was a bizarre but rather enjoyable interlude.

Okay so at 10am Sunday the day is on the move and I either have to get some more sleep or get out and do something with the day.  Not sure which was it will go.

Later….

Got out around midday for a bit of a walk despite my weariness.  Headed straight to the camera store for some light bulbs I need to operate my lights in the US.  The camera shop was abuzz with forelocks and skullcaps – I felt like I was in Balaclava – until I remembered I was in New York – d’oh.  Super helpful lighting expert meant that I was happy to come away with $450 worth of new light and accessories.  Now I think my little lighting kit has all I need – a new omni light with barn doors.  A new soft box for the Tota light and a flexifill for that sustainable solar lighting.  Now I just have to fit it all into my kit.

On the way home I wandered through a flea market in a multi level car part.  So many fabulous things I could have bought if I’d had a container going spare – mostly weird and fabulous things for the home but the stall that most captured my imagination was the stall selling 1940’s black and white mug shots.  Full face and profile of so many personal moments of crisis and bewilderment.  Many didn’t look too smart but then the mug shot is no date with Helmut Newton.  It was an amazing collection but t $20 - $40 a pop I resisted the need to buy.

Back to the hotel to a bit of phone calling trying to firm up plans for the next 3 weeks in the US.  I’ll try for an early night tonight and hopefully a more switched on day tomorrow.  Public holiday tomorrow so I won’t get much work done but hopefully the rest of the week will be productive.