Charles de Gaulle Airport in France, our first stop, is quite a distance from central Paris so rather than spending a small fortune on a taxi we took a train. Being from Arizona, we have no experience with mass transportation—and oddly enough all the signs and announcements were in French, a language neither of us speaks. As we pulled, pushed and carried our luggage along to board the train (nearly falling down on the escalator) some French men swept up behind us and took our luggage on board, disappearing to their seats after a friendly wave and smile. (Thank you, Lord!)
We were getting a bit frustrated and that kindness, in addition to another passenger who directed us to the correct stop, eased our minds and moods.
The hotel staff spoke clear English but was much less helpful than our fellow passengers on the train. They would barely give us directions, let alone any helpful tips. If you saw Meg Ryan in French Kiss you’ll get the picture.
We wandered on our own to the Bastille District and enjoyed the food and conversation of the owners of a little Mexican restaurant (you can take the girls out of the Southwest but you can’t take the Southwest out of the girls). The proprietor escorted us and a businessman from Mexico City to a Cuban club a few doors down where he instructed the manager to take good care of us. We listened to music and had interesting conversation about family, religion and challenges with illegal immigration. The warmth of these people made us feel less foreign. (God can bring joy to every corner of the earth.)
A few days later, on the Chunnel to London, we repeated the laborious effort with our luggage on board where a woman shoved past my daughter, knocking her into the lap of a stranger and never looked back. The English people she landed on were huffy and ungracious adding to her embarrassment.
There were many kind people in London, however. Most we encountered were very interested in visiting with us—asking our opinions, especially about politics. They seemed to be much more aware of our current events than we are of theirs. (We may have differences, but we all belong to HIM.)
On the flight home there was a family seated directly behind us that was loud, inconsiderate and pounded our seat-backs for eight of the 10 hour flight—telling us they couldn’t help it because they had no room to move. I guess they thought other passengers were assigned to more spacious seats! (God, give me patience!)
Over-all the trip was spectacular. We ate and drank in wonderful places, hit all the tourist attractions from the Eiffel Tower to the London Eye, saw a fabulous production of Wicked, danced with some cast members from Lion King and met some very interesting people… and (almost) never even disagreed on anything. (You are LOVE, Father.)
Do people see Jesus in you when you travel? Diane Markins
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