Entre Les Murs

Changing Countries

It's getting easier to stuff Emma in her carrier.  Either she's becoming resigned or I'm getting more heartless.  The taxi arrived right on time, so we got off to a good start: with four suitcases, hand luggage and a cat in a bag.

One of the few remaining airlines that permit pets in the cabin is the new Lavion.  It was this that induced us to book ourselves to Newark with them, and not the all-business-class service, honest.  Despite arriving at Orly with ample time, the line through passport control was so long and unruly that we reached the gate with no time to spare.  But that was the last hiccup of the day.

Lavion's service was not quite the full-on champagne-and-duck-a-l'orange of some airlines' business classes, but the seats were spacious and comfortable, and they passed out little amenity kits and personal entertainment screens so you could pick your own movies to watch.  Once airborne we had a wide enough armrest that we could place Emma's carrier between us and give her some attention, thereby reducing the frequency of pathetic plaintive meows.

At Newark the line through immigration was much better behaved than the one in Orly, and the officers behind the desks were efficient and altogether friendly.  The side trip into secondary inspection to get our visas took only about fifteen minutes.

A friend of Janet's is lending us his house in Bronxville (North of Manhattan) while he and his family are on holiday.  For roughly what we would have paid for a taxi, we rented a car to get us there - we're already adjusting to the breathtaking cost of living in New York.  The key had been left with a neighbour, so while I unloaded the car, Janet went to fetch it - and came back with a dinner invitation for the following Sunday.  That certainly would never have happened in Paris.

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The "Entre Les Murs" title no longer works as well, now that we're no longer living "within the walls" of Paris.  However, "within the bridges and tunnels" doesn't sing, even in French.  And there's always the possibility we could wind up living in Brooklyn or Jersey, so I think I'll just leave it as is, with its lone remaining meaning: a personal journal from within the walls of our home.

posted 22.7.07