As with every trip we've ever taken there is at least one thing that makes us scratch our heads with wonderment until they bleed. This time we got to do it in a foreign language!
We had a layover in Paris on our way to Munich from London. Because we decided to do Germany on our own dime the flight from Paris to Munich was booked at a different time then the rest of the flights, it was also on a totally different
itinerary. We did not think this would be a problem, as we had over 2 hours between the flights to gather our luggage and check back in, but the gods of chaos had a different plan in mind for us.
Upon arriving at Charles De
Gaulle we were met by "Johnny the wonder kid" he speaks very little
English, and I speak just enough French to get us to the restroom and ask for a potato. We try to explain to him that we need to get our
luggage, and find Matt's chair, to this day we have not figured out why the chair must be checked luggage in France. After running around a bit we find the chair and Matt is overjoyed to leave the tiny aisle chair ( that is skinny enough to get down the aisle in a plane). Now off to find our luggage.
Everyone we talk to continues to assure us that our luggage will be booked onto the next flight,that is all fine and dandy if our luggage had been checked through to Munich, but as the next flight is on a different
itinerary the luggage is not going to be on the next flight. After explaining this in
franglish to about 10 different people, we
finally chat with someone who speaks
English better then we do and they provide us with 3 different spots that our luggage could be.
Luggage found(after Johnny tries to get us through spaces that no one should be able to fit through) we head off to get our tickets. No one can find our reservation and we head off to customer service,apparently in the booking process our names have been flipped and we are now
lastname firstname.
Johnny now informs us that we need to get to the other terminal and goes off to search for his supervisor so he can call for the wheelchair transportation. We bid good day to Johnny and pray that we can get on the plane with tickets that have different names then our passports.
Upon arriving at the other terminal we are introduced to
Sulomon who will be taking care of us from now on. Joy of joys, he speaks
English and we are able to explain our ticket situation. After a few minuets at customer service we head off to check in our luggage. Here we begin to realize just how foreign a manual wheelchair is, as Matt is asked time and again about the battery pack on his chair when he informs the agents that he will be staying in his chair until it is time to board the plane. After numerous calls to several people it is decided that Matt can
in fact stay in his chair ( and we begin to really miss the ADA in the great old USA).
The chaos gods are not done with us, and it looks like they may actually win this battle as we wait for another transporter to take us to the plane( which is not at the gate, but is at another gate in the terminal we had left Johnny in) For some reason we are boarded onto the back of the plane after every one else is on, which infuriates the other
passenger in a wheelchair, if we had known this we would not have requested to be moved to the front of the plane for ease of boarding.
Finally buckled in the plane takes off 20 min late, but the food was
surprisingly yummy!