London is always calling us back.
Planning started in June, with dates set and plane tickets purchased. We usually head over mid-October, but decided to try mid-September this time. Our last trip to London in October trip was incredibly cold, so we thought we'd try for warmer weather by traveling earlier, and we weren't disappointed. We planned to start our vacation with 2 days in Dublin, followed by a day each in Kilkenny and Cork, and then 4 days in London.Our travel day started off with a notice from Delta that our flight from Cincinnati to Paris was going to be delayed by 40 minutes. The notice came in at around 11am, and the original flight time wasn't until 6:10, so I hoped that maybe the delay would magically disappear. The delay would only give us about 30 minutes to get our connecting flight in Paris, provided that everything else on the flight went perfectly. We were at the gate about 5:30, and lo and behold, there was a plane! But they weren't boarding us, and the Delta app still showed a delayed flight time. Our original boarding time came and went. As did the delayed time. We finally heard from the gate agent that the plane was being cleaned and they would try to board us ASAP. We boarded about 20 minutes after the quoted delayed time. Fortunately, the agent we worked with when checking our bags saw the delay and the 30 minute connection in Paris, and gave us a standby booking on the next flight from Paris to Dublin, which would leave at about 3pm. We weren't thrilled about the prospect of a 5 hour layover, but at least we'd be in Paris, and at least we'd be together.
We boarded with no issue, and settled into our seats. Once we hit cruising altitude, I started to adjust and get comfortable. That's when it happened... a dreaded event that big boobed women have nightmares about... my bra broke. IT. BROKE. The middle connector split. And all I could do was laugh. I had contemplated throwing a spare and underwear into my carryon, but decided not to at the last minute. BIG MISTAKE. I had big plans of asking he flight attendant if they had any safety pins or a sewing kit, but just said "Eff it" and threw it away in the lavatory trash. Rico laughed when I told him & said "I wonder what someone will think if they see it in the trash?" and I said "They will either think that someone got lucky, or really unlucky."
The reminder of the flight was uneventful, and I had resigned myself to the fact that we were going to get into Dublin later than planned. Our flight landed, we got off the plane, and out of habit, looked at the connecting flight display only to see that our original connecting flight had been delayed, and was currently boarding. We made a break for it.
Here's a fun fact: When you are traveling between States in the Schengen Area of Europe, you do not need to go through passport control or security when connecting flights in Paris. Another fun fact: Ireland & the UK are not part of the Schengen Area... which means that we had to go through security in order to get to our connecting flight.
Above is a diagram of terminal 2E at CDG. Our original flight to Dublin was delayed by about 20 minutes. This meant we had roughly 15 minutes to get from our arrival gate, located in hall K, to our departure gate in hall M.
We ran/jogged/power walked through hall K, and caught the light rail to hall M. We ran to security, where I essentially accosted the 1st airport employee I saw & told them that our connecting flight was leaving in 15 minutes. He rushed us into a short line, and we were out in about 5 minutes. From there, I looked at Rico & said "RUN". He booked it to the gate, which was of course the last one in the terminal, and I jog/walked as fast as I could (please remember the missing bra). I fully expected to see Rico walking toward me at any point, shaking his head, telling me we missed the flight, and would have to wait until 3. When I got to the gate, there were still 4 people in line to board. WE HAD MADE IT. WE MADE A 15 MINUTE CONNECTION AT CDG. We boarded, settled in to our seats, and I spent the 2 hour flight marveling over what had just transpired.
We landed in Dublin & made our way to immigration, and hey, Dublin Airport, if you are reading this, maybe don't have only 1 non EU window open when you have a few hundred people in line. Ok? Thanks. After about an hour and a half in line in immigration, we made it to baggage claim, where we waited for our bags. And waited. And waited. It then dawned on us that while we had made the ridiculous connection, our bags probably hadn't. We made our way to baggage services, where a nice man confirmed that our bags were still enjoying a leisurely venture at CDG, but would be on the next flight over. We filled out a form, and he let us know that we would get a call when the bags were to be delivered. We made our way to the taxi station, and within minutes were off to our hotel.
Up next: Whiskey, Missing Bags and Bus Ride Sing-alongs.
