Leaving London, back to Paris to catch my flight.

"Taxi"-Motorcycle to the Airport!

     I have just done something that my Mother, Father, and pretty much everyone I know, would say "WHAT?  Are you CRAZY?".  I have broken the cardinal rule and talked to a stranger, albeit a very nice stranger, and in a foreign country no less!

    After dragging my luggage, or my luggage dragging me, through the London and Paris train stations, I had decided that I could NOT possibly get three pieces through the RER train system in Paris to Charles de Gaulle airport.  I would take a taxi and would just accept the huge price to get me there.  I went and stood in line.  After 20 minutes and three feet later, this gentleman was walking by asking if anyone wanted to hire a car.  I'm thinking limo.  I said "Monsieur, combien de Charles de Gaulle?"  He showed me the flat rate on his company business card, cheaper than a taxi, I said "Let's go!".  He then judged the weight of my luggage.  I thought it might cost extra if it was heavy.  He said no problem, and took me and my luggage over to where he was parked.

     It wasn't a car!  It was a motorcycle that happens to be a taxi.  A very nice luxury motorcycle, Honda I think.  I guess it's a new thing?  I laughed, asked if he was kidding, and was it safe?  He put one bag in the "trunk", strapped my huge suitcase on the back with bungee cords, got me into a helmet, onto the back of his bike, and took my carry on bag across his lap.  I griped onto the back handles for dear life and away we go....zipping through downtown Paris streets, in their lovely traffic, and onto the mega highway towards the airport.  Wheeeee!

     It was absolutely gorgeous weather, and I was trying to remember everything my old boyfriends said about riding on a bike, leaning into corners, etc.  My driver was very professional, very kind, making sure I was feeling okay.  He wondered why my husband does not take me out on his bike?  No husband?  boyfriend then?

     As we were driving along, in the fast lane, and passing everybody else, I had that "I'm Alive!" feeling screaming inside my head.  But I had to consider that if we crashed, my helmet was way too big for me, and I would get some serious road rash just wearing jeans and a t-shirt and blazer.  Mom & Dad were gonna kill me!  So I thought otherwise, had so, so, so much fun, and thought nobody is ever going to believe this! 

If I ever get back to Paris............!