Okay hear me out: sometimes you actually don’t want to be in Paris.
I know, I know. It sounds crazy at first pass.
But imagine, if you will. The time: Lunar New Year, laaaate January, after an exhausting fiscal year end. The place: a gate at JFK Terminal 8, having left the comforts of the gorgeous and absurdly bougie Flagship Lounge to ensure you’re able to board on time. Your destination? Reims, the heart of Champagne Country… by way of Roissy of course.
There’s some weather (January in New York, after all), but not much. Not enough to be worried. The departure time changes. Then changes again. The gate agent gets on the loudspeaker, “we have the mechanics on the plane…” and a collective groan goes up from the passengers clustered around the boarding lanes. Your plane is now out of service, but! There’s hope! They’ve found another plane. If this can board and take off relatively quickly, you’ll miss the train where your reserved seat waits, but you’ll still probably be able to make it to Pommery in time for your tour and tasting.
Not too fast! Maintenance is on your new plane. It gets brought around to your gate eventually… without the maintenance logs. Another hour goes by. Kiss your champagne au revoir. Add another hour.
Look: there is no first world problem like your flight to Paris being delayed. It is the ultimate. That doesn’t make it any easier to stomach alas.
And so, 5-ish hours later as we finally took off, I resolved not to find some alternate activity (though jaunting off on a cathedral hunt in Amiens or Chartres crossed my mind), but instead to listen to what the universe was clearly trying to tell me: SPEND THE DAY IN PARIS, idiote!
The arrival into Roissy was absurdly smooth, and I plotted out my day from the RER train into town: take Métro from the train station to my hotel, attempt to check in, get a baguette, &c.
This trip marked my first stay at the Moxy Bastille. Moxy is honestly my favorite of the Marriott brands – modern, affordable, new, and often with an excellent bar/restaurant to boot. I was able to check in relatively quickly and into a room with a balcony no less. While the weather wasn’t exactly conducive to being on a rooftop, I made quick use of it. There is little as magical as a terrace in Paris, if you’ll pardon the rhyme.
After a quick nap and quicker shower, I was off!
