British Airways Debacle

As we awoke and were served breakfast, a BA stewardess informed us our flight to Paris had been cancelled, which was good to know, since we weren't going to make it anyway since we would be landing about the time it was scheduled to depart. She told us to go to Terminal 5 and check in there for a new flight. We would soon learn we wished we had not listened to her advice. Upon landing, we headed out to the buses to take us to Terminal 5 and when we got to the top of the escalators, saw the incredibly huge queue lines for BA customer service that snaked past the normal queue markers and encroached upon the security area. We stood in the slow-moving line for awhile and heard snippets about massive problems with the 'state-of-the-art' baggage system and numerous flight delays.

As the line was not moving, J. R. decided to hang the expense and dial the USA BA customer service number since the London number was not answering. After a few delays, he was finally placed through with an agent who rebooked us on a flight leaving in about an hour and we were told we could go to a kiosk to get our boarding passes. Unfortunately, in order to get to the kiosk, we would have to leave security (which turned out not to be an issue anyway since we'd have to pass through security again anyway). Luckily an agent directed us to a shorter line around the corner where we could pick up our boarding passes. After a much shorter wait, we had our new seats, in Club Europe, no less, and were assured our bags would be routed to our new flight. (More foreshadowing).

We passed by the line we had been in and saw that the woman in front of us had barely reached the main queue line area and we were very pleased with our decision to try the USA customer service number. The security lines were short (since everyone was in the customer service line) and we were soon sitting in the very beautiful confines of Terminal 5 Heathrow. J. R. found a snack shop and bought some drinks and after a short wait, we were on the plane to Paris.

Paris Sans Bagages

Upon landing in Paris, we eventually found our way to baggage claim after a couple of wrong turns and waited for our bags. As bag after bag came out, we had the sinking feeling ours would not be arriving. Soon an agent came over and called our name and told us our bags did not make the flight and we had to go stand in line to file our claim. The worst stereotype of rude French people was borne out by the woman at the BA luggage counter (or perhaps it was really just the worst stereotype of a low-paid baggage claim agent since we think she would have been just as rude if she had been in Chicago). She asked us to identify our bags based on a series of pictures she showed on a card and wasn't pleased when J. R. told her our bag didn't look like any of them (which was true). She asked him what color it was and he said "black-and-gray" and she said "which one is it"? And he said "both". They are black AND gray. (Apparently she had never heard of two-tone luggage). J. R. asked her about compensation for not having any luggage and she claimed we could not claim expenses until after 24 hours (which we knew to be false, but since arguing with her was going to be about as effective as arguing with the luggage carousel), we took our claim form and left.

J. R. was now in a pretty foul mood and just wanted to hop on a flight back home, so he gave his cell phone to Janie for her to call our ride from BS Transports, who it turned out, were waiting for us at the airport. They had to call out another car, which took about 10 minutes and soon we were off to Disneyland Paris to try to shake off our transportation troubles. We got to the Newport Bay Hotel and checked in, and were greeted by a very polite woman who walked us through our breakfast options, including breakfast inside Disneyland Paris and provided us with our passes and charge cards and we were feeling much more relaxed as we went up to our room to dump off what little baggage we had in our hands. We then headed back down to catch the bus over to Disneyland Paris.

Rainy Day at Disneyland

It was cold and rainy as we got to DLP and with our jackets sitting somewhere in the pile of luggage at Terminal 5, we were less than happy campers as we headed into Disneyland. But strolling down Main Street, it felt like we were back at home in Florida, minus the oppresive heat, which we could have used a little of. We decided to check out Fantasyland first to try to get us into the Disney mood (and because most the rides there we knew would be indoors). We strolled through "Le Chateau de la Belle au Bois Dormant", much to Rebecca's delight and found ourselves in familiar-looking territory. We rode "Blanche-Neige et les Septs Nains" (Snow White en Francais), took a spin on the teacups (where Alex, Thomas and J. R. were saddled with a bum teacup that barely spun) and dashed in the rain to sit in a boat through "It's a Small World even in Paris".

Night Time at Disneyland

We were now over towards Tomorrowland -- oops, sorry "Discoveryland", as the EuroDisney planners realized what Walt did not that keeping a Tomorrowland from becoming Yesterdayland was too expensive, so we headed into the queue for Buzz Lightyear. The queue was long, but covered, so we decided to wait the 40 minutes to at least stay dry. We contemplated buying ponchos but the rain was more of just a drizzle -- enough to be annoying, but not enough to worth suffocating in plastic. The Paris Buzz was a little different than the one in WDW as the lightguns could be removed from the holster and held in your hand (which is apparently the way they are in Disneyland in California). J. R. found this easier to handle and racked up nearly 40,000 points, but Janie didn't like it as much.

After wandering around for a while looking for a toilet (and being directed by castmembers back to the one which we knew was closed), we got into the queue for "Star Tours". Thomas insisted this ride was going to be different because he had seen a sign in the main queue area saying we were going to Hoth and not Endor. J. R. knew those signs changed all the time and that there was no new movie, but Thomas was insistent, so we boarded and he soon learned it was the same old movie with the same old dumb robot driver (this time speaking French) and we still weren't going to see any Ewoks. But now, for the rest of the trip, anytime Thomas said anything we didn't agree with, we'd comment, "well, maybe on Hoth that's the way it is, but not here". It's fun to have something to use to make fun of your children.

Rebecca was too small for Space Mountain 2, so Janie took the boys since the line was supposedly only 15 minutes while Rebecca and J. R. went to hide out in a gift shop and stay warm. (Everyone else had packed fleece jackets to wear on the plane because they usually get cold in the air. J. R., on the other hand, usually swelters on a plane, so he had worn only a long-sleeved shirt over a T-shirt and was quite cold. He had, however, planned to carry on his winter jacket in a duffel bag, but at the last minute, was convinced by his wife that we wouldn't need them since the limo would drop us off right at the gate, so we should just check the duffel bag and save the extra hassle through security.)

We ended up waiting around for over a half-hour because the ride had broken down and by then we were pretty tired and hungry and the park was closing soon, we set off down Main Street to go find a bite to eat.

We found our way to the Disney Village and were going to try Cafe Mickey's but the earliest eating time was 9PM and we were tired, so we found a sports pub off one of the side streets and split some chicken fingers and hot dogs there. It wasn't bad and Alex and J. R. had a good time watching the rugby match on the big screen and trying to figure out the rules of the game based on what we were seeing.

We wandered through one of the shops to get warm, but it was pretty crowded, so we went back to the hotel in hopes our luggage had found its way to Paris. Unfortunately, we had no such luck and the Paris number we'd been given by the unhelpful agent at Charles DeGaulle was either not answered or busy (or more likely off-hook). J. R. called again to the USA number and navigated the voice menus to baggage services where "Yolanda" told us we could purchase essentials while waiting for our bags and that they would 'probably have your bags to you within 24 hours' (foreshadowing, again). We went down to the gift shop and found some boxer shorts and souvenir T-shirts and a sleep outfit for Rebecca and a few key cosmetic items we hadn't smuggled through security at O'Hare and called it a rather long day and night.