When we were booking flights for France, Wade gave me two options. One was the red eye from Salt Lake to New York (with a nineteen hour layover). From there, we would be on another red eye to Paris. The other is an option I don't remember because in a moment of insanity, I picked the first option. What I should have said was, “That sounds like a really bad idea!” But what I said was, “Let's do it! I’ve never been to New York!” Maybe I was still in denial over leaving or maybe I wasn't really listening when Wade gave me the options. It could explain why I don't remember the second one. I guess we’ll never know.
So off we go on our red eye to New York City. I was instructed by my sister Char to sleep on both of our flights. I had every intentions of sleeping to New York. I fell asleep while taking off, missed the drink cart and then promptly woke up to Wade asking if I wanted pretzels. I tried to go back to sleep after that, but the gentleman next to me smelled like garlic and onions and was asleep with his mouth open. It was “distracting,” let us say. I think Wade was awake the whole time. Poor guy. We landed at JFK and skipped breakfast. For most people, that wouldn't ruin their day. I'm not most people. In the Asay family if we aren't fed every four hours we turn into monsters--like the Snicker’s commercials. We are irrational, mean, and prone to cry. Let me reiterate--poor Wade!
We checked our bags at a storage locker to avoid dragging it around the city and went to meet one of Wade’s mission buddies. He actually lives in Philadelphia, but he wanted to show us around the city. We, of course, wanted to see all the stuff everyone wants to see in New York. Oh, and if you were thinking, “Why didn't they just go to a Broadway musical?”, well, they apparently don't do shows on Mondays, so don't be so snarky. Personally, I was crushed. Anyway, his friend took us to a few places and then left. We wandered around until our feet hurt, trying to kill time. Finally at around six we got on the train that headed towards the airport. That's right, we waited at an airport for six hours to catch our next flight. It wasn't too bad. We watched Ocean’s 11 and ate some peanut M&Ms. That was nice.
The flight to Paris was uneventful. I actually slept the entire time and it was amazing! Wade told me I had my mouth open the whole time which was probably karma getting me back for making fun of onion/garlic guy. When we landed in Paris, I was still so tired that all I wanted to do was get to the hotel and sleep. Two hours later, we finally got through customs, and I was pretty tired and hungry. Bad combo. What I didn't know was that we would be getting in a hot stuffy subway car with all our luggage. All. Of. It. We each had a big luggage bag, a duffle bag and a backpack. It was awful. For those who know me, I'm legendary for having the weakest arm strength known to man! So just imagine that and the flights of stairs we had to climb up and down. Once we were out of the subway and walking toward our hotel, I felt overwhelmed. I decided that I hated airports, subways and France. I started to question my sanity! Had I really just tried and failed to carry my suitcase, duffle bag and backpack down ten steps? Had I really just moved to France, which I hated, for eight months?
I would like to say that my attitude changed once I got to the hotel, but it didn't. I was tired, I had an awful cold coming on, and I already missed my family. I wanted to break down and cry hysterically. But this isn't a movie, and I'm kind of an adult. I'll say for myself, though, that my attitude started to change when we got settled in and I saw two familiar faces--Jeremy and Jamie--Wade’s brother and his wife who were there to spend a week in Paris with us. They got there the day before we did. We settled in and, once we had settled in enough, we went with them to a beautiful cathedral--Sacre Coeur. I saw the Eiffel Tower and gradually my attitude melted away. There I was, in Paris. How lucky was I? Lucky.
I guess what you should take away from this is that when booking a flight to Europe, don't book the one with a nineteen hour layover in New York, or, better yet, anywhere. If you can avoid it, avoid it like the plague. We plan not to have a nineteen hour layover anywhere on our way back. Also, don't get on a subway car with all your luggage. It's just a bad idea! (When we left Paris to come to Forbach, we took a cab to the train station. It was the best decision!) Your final and most important tip? If you ever travel with an Asay, bring lots of snacks to avoid the Asay Angries, the Garn Grumpies, the Kamerath Krankies, the O’Donnell Oneries, and the Wilkey Whinys! Folks, don't ask yourself if you should bring extra peanut M&Ms, just bring them!
Thanks for reading folks!
