I Love Paris . . . I Think

In contrast to our trip to Bamako in July when we had a 15-hour layover in Casa Blanca, Morocco, on this trip in September we had a short seven-hour layover in Paris which certainly was not enough time to do it justice but enough to be able to say, "Yes, I've been to Paris." I have proof of having been there because my camera contains numerous photos. The irony of it is, I don't remember having seen Paris, so I must rely on the images contained on my camera's memory card rather than the memory card contained in my brain.

I can explain, really. You see, we left Northwest Arkansas on September 18. The days prior thereto were a whirlwind of activity, with nights of little sleep. After a layover in Dallas, we finally boarded the plane for our nearly 10-hour flight to Paris. After being served an unusually normal dinner of airplane food, we settled in for the night. Most of us took a nightcap of one form or another, be it Tylenol PM, Ambien, or some generic form thereof. I took my Ambien, and because of an impending migraine, I also took an Imitrex. Several hours later I was still awake but exhausted and restless, and beginning to feel trapped as one does when confined inside the coach class of an international flight that has few empty seats.

Lori, my friend, teammate, and leader of our team (who was not resting well either) asked if I had taken anything -- silly question -- and suggested I take another half an Ambien. Why not, I thought. What do I have to lose? And before long the zzzzzzzzzzzzzz's closed in on me and I slept. However, before not long enough, we were in Paris, debarking the plane, and running to find our chaeuffer for the prior-planned day tour of Paris.

Off we headed -- Eiffel Tower, streets of Paris, Notre Dame -- cameras snapping whether the tour van stopped or not. And all too soon we headed back to the airport with just enough time to catch our flight to Bamako, Mali. Now mind you, I was awake and alertly participating in all these activities in Paris. I bought a statue of the Eiffel Tower at the request of one of my co-workers for her daughter. I have pictures of the Eiffel Tower itself, the one tourist spot I do remember seeing. But beyond that, I do not remember Paris. I do not remember Charles de Gaulle Airport. I don't know where in Paris I bought the statue of the Eiffel Tower for my co-worker. I do not remember taking the pictures that appear on the memory card of my camera.

When we arrived in Bamako I was asked if I had enjoyed Paris. With a blank look on my face, I'm sure I muttered in sheer ignorance, "Um, Paris?"

The moral of the story is that you don't take one and a half Ambien and an Imitrex unless you have enough time to sleep them off or unless you plan to not remember what you did. That could get scary!!! But for now, the story provides a good laugh, especially when I proudly show off my pictures of Paris . . . and state that I don't have a glue when I took them. Ah yes, I DO love Paris!!!