CDG to Beauvais

From CDG to Paris Beauvais

As stated earlier, the flight landed in CDG just a couple of minutes before 1:00 PM local time. So far, the trip had been very predictable and uneventful; that was about to change.

My plan was to spend the night in a small town just outside of Paris, a place called Beauvais, in order to catch an early flight out of the Beauvais airport on Ryan Air to Milan. All that was required for me that first afternoon was to make it from Charles de Gaulle airport to the hotel i had booked online previously, one which was on the outskirts of the Beauvais airport. Since I was basically traveling from one major airport to another airport in the Paris area, I looked online for the best way to do it, and no less than two separate sources said to take the RER (metro train) in to Gare du Nord (one of the main Paris train stations), then from there take the regional express train to Beauvais, and then catch either a taxi or the shuttle to the town center. Easy. Right.

Finding the RER in the CDG airport was no problem, and I avoided the game that they had played with me at the ticket machine during my last trip (yes, it takes, credit cards, but only European ones with an embedded chip, not the US type with the magnetic strip; yes, it takes cash, but only coins, not paper Euros…). I boarded it only to sit…and sit…and sit. A number of us were on the train, motionless, for about half an hour when an announcement, which I definitely did not understand, caused the entire train to run off, up the stairs, and across the station to another train. Though generally not a lemming, in this case I followed the crowd, and a few moments later the train departed. I still have no idea what the delay or commotion was about, but in any case I was shortly in Gare du Nord. At this point, I was to find the TER (local express train), which was not terribly easy given the size of the station, but in a relatively short time I had found it upstairs, and boarded the train. Unfortunately, I had not been able to find the ticket machine for this part of the trip, but I was tired, and I felt it worth running the risk of being nabbed for fare dogging (besides I could always pull out my RER ticket and give them the dumb, confused American look).

After an hour, the train pulled to a stop at the end of the line, and I (along with a horde of 40 or so children) exited, only to be stopped at the exit machine when our tickets did not let us out. Fortunately, one of the adult leaders for the group of children convinced the overwhelmed ticket agent to let us pass, and I managed to blend in with the crowd as we exited. Don't get me wrong, I would gladly pay the fare for any trip like this, but meet me halfway and show me where the ticket machine is. In any case, I did find the taxi stand right outside the station.

Note that I said I found the taxi stand, not that I found a taxi. Unlike in the US, French taxi stands do not come equipped with taxis. After a protracted wait, it became apparent no cab would be pulling up, and contrary to the online travel guides there was no shuttle bus available to the airport either. I walked about the local area to try to find a cab…no such luck. I attempted to ask for an Internet cafe to call a cab, even paying him a couple of Euros, but I was not able to get my need across to the clerk. Eventually, I ventured back to the station in an effort to see if the ticket agent (yes, the one who had been overwhelmed and let us all escape just a short time earlier) could help me, but he spoke no English. I was beginning to feel I would have to board the train back to Paris and regroup, thinking that I would at least be on familiar turf with a few people around who could speak some English. Fortunately, right before I was about to give up and board the train back to Paris, a reserved taxi pulled up for a customer who had called in, and though the cabbie could not take me due to his prior passenger commitment, he did call a cab for me. (Actually, he spent a great deal of time with me, watched over me carefully to make sure the cab did needed show up, and then refused my offer of a few Euros for his help. While the stereotype of the French as rude is pervasive, and often justified, this cabbie proved just the opposite.)

I handed the driver who just pulled up my very detailed hotel directions, which included not only the name, address and phone number, but even the exact GPS coordinates of my destination. Unfortunately, French GPS systems don't seem to be able to comprehend precision, and after several minutes he tossed the unit back in his glove box, only to "wing it" in the general direction of Beauvais. After forty minutes, and 80 Euros, he did manage to find my hotel.

I'll point out that with only a limited number of Euros in my wallet and no idea what the ride would ultimately cost, I was very much afraid of running out of cash, with no ATM machines around save for the airport (which at this point was much more of a fantasy than an actual reality).

In any case, we reached the hotel, and I had enough Euros to cover the cost, with a few extras left in my wallet to cover the evening. By this time, I had been up for over 24 hours (I could hardly nap on the way over), so I was tired, thirsty, hungry, and achy. As I had ventured through the trip from CDG to Beauvais, I had been constantly promising myself, even fantasizing about, a nice dinner in the hotel and a few drinks in the bar, but it quickly became apparent that this hotel had neither. Rather than a business class hotel, this was a roadway inn, designed for families who pull up in minivans and want to eat at the McDonalds across. the street. In fact, the hotel and McDonalds were the only two establishments in the area, save for an American wanna be restaurant, "Buffalo Grill." While I was close enough to the airport that I could see planes landing and taking off, I was stuck out in "the boondocks," with nothing other than a road hotel, McD, and this restaurant. Additionally as mentioned previously, after paying 80 Euros for my cab ride I was running low on cash, but according to the front desk clerk there was no such thing as an ATM machine in this part of the woods; the nearest cash machine was at the airport. Not to worry, however, as it turned out the Buffalo Grill did take my credit card, and the trip to the airport, I was assured, was cheap and easy: The front desk informed me I could take a taxi, or the shuttle. Not their airport shuttle, mind you, but the public shuttle which was just around the corner.

I went to bed about 8:00 PM, exhausted, but thinking that the worst part of the trip was behind me. Truthfully, before the trip began I had had some premonition about this first part of the trip, a tad concerned that the two leg flight overseas, combined with getting from CDG to Beauvais and then from the train station to the hotel, might be a bit taxing. While my concern seemed to have been borne out, I also felt the worst that could go wrong was behind me: I could see the planes in the distance, and per the assurance from the front desk I had two means to get from my room to my flight. OK, so one other minor glitch was that this cheap hotel did not provide wake up calls, nor did it trust us with an alarm clock in the room, but in any case I had many electronic devices with alarms, and given the timezone change I woke up before my alarms at 5:00 AM. I felt I could relax a bit, as all I needed to do now was to get to the airport for my 8:30 flight to Milan.

Upon waking, I quickly showered, then left my room for the front desk, where I figured I could get them to call me a cab. Unfortunately, little did I realize that in the boondocks, even the front desk deserts town at night, and they would not be back until 7:00 AM. Since I had to be checked in to the flight by 8:00, I felt it was cutting things too tight to wait for them to call a cab, for it to show, then to make it through the checkin line, so instead I figured I would call for a cab myself. The number was on a placard by my phone, and I was able to decipher that to dial out I need to press "0" first. Yes, the outside line came through for me, but the number, apparently, was bogus because it did not call anybody for me. I considered going on Skype to place the call (yes, the free WiFi actually DID work out in the boondocks!), but instead I opted for the shuttle, concerned that even if I did get through to the taxi that I would not be able to communicate where I was or where I want to go. So, with that I opted for the shuttle. Or, at least, I attempted to opt for the shuttle.

After a short walk, I did find the stop, but it was on the wrong side of the road, and since it would arrive at 6:56, that too was going to be too tight for me should it turn out not to be heading in the direction I wanted to go. Again, just as the day before, I was growing frustrated at how difficult a seemingly simple task was turning out to be. At this time, I remembered a third option nobody had mentioned: My bipeds. Yes, since I had seen planes landing in the not-too-distant-far, I felt I could venture off on foot, and as it turned out that was my best of the three. It was a two kilometer walk but within 20 minutes I was there, and checked in.

On a balancing side note, I really shouldn't lament that few people spoke English at this part of France, just outside of Paris. I admittedly felt rather bad that I knew nothing of the French language; for some reason, though I have a natural ability with some tongues (German, Russian, Spanish, even Italian), French totally escapes me. I can read a bit of it, but I cannot aurally comprehend it, nor can I speak it. In any case, language difficulties and boondocks notwithstanding, I had managed to readh the Beauvais airport, and Ryan Air, for my morning trip to Milan.