Pleasantly pickled in Paris

...and not on plonk!  I left today for my first non-European interpreting mission.  Destination, sunny Tunisia, with a weather forecast calling for 29 degrees.  The location, Hammamet, a resort town on the Mediteranean.

The challenge, not missing my flight.  Which doesn't seem so bad, until you see my track-record with airports.

Things started off reasonably well.  I left home a mere twenty minutes behind schedule, and knowing that there was a problem with the urban train going to the airport.  But then again, when isn't there something in Paris?  Today it was just a ten to fifteen minute delay due to a sick passenger.  Happens every day!  Of course, it didn't keep me from fretting.  But since I only took carry-on items, and not many at that, the suitcase was light and I could speed along at a good clip.

I caught a break, too, when the next train to board was an express to the airport, covering the distance in only 20 minutes.  Jackpot!  I thought, I made up for my late departure!

But no, of course it wasn't going to be that easy.

First step, the boarding card.  The type of reservation meant that I needed to got to a check-in counter and couldn't bypass the whole process through automation.  Fantastic.  Fortunately, there was no line-up, and as an added bonus, the staff-member who helped me out let me know that my ticket gave me access to... the Lounge!

Now for those of you unfamiliar with the Lounge, it is that swanky-looking room that you sometimes sneak passing glances into but can never enter.  Entry requires you to either pay a hefty fee at the door, or to have a so-called Premium ticket.  Even then, not every flight entitles you to free access.  So being the greenhorn interpreter that I am and being told my ticket provided the privilege was like winning the lottery.

...to be cont.