3 June 2025

When we finally were able to wander through into our gated waiting area, we sat across from a couple, who I would pick to be around our age, from Adelaide. 

They also had a pannier each as cabin bags, so we soon got chatting.  They had started cycle touring in 2016 and the seven tours they've done have all been in France. They love it and this time are doing 10 weeks. Their names are Darren and Linda.

They did try bringing their bikes, but have decided it was too much of a hassle, so they buy them from Decathalon, then sell them back when the trip is over. Yes, it's maybe easier to not transport your own bikes but I'm sure riding bikes you've never ridden before would also throw up it's own challenges.  Maybe we will run into them on the road and find out which way they think is best. 

The flight to Paris was uneventful but by the time we landed, Ju and I were zonked.  Charles de Gaulle airport doesn't even come close to Doha, although I can't imagine many, or any that do.

Wandered the uninspiring passageway leading to customs check and ended up in the French line, after being directed there.

As we were waiting, we realised our position and in fluent French I told the young lady officer of our predicament.'

"Haw Hee Haw Hee Haw" I said, to which she replied

"Hee Hee...Haw Hee Haw" and we wandered off to the right line.

Sometimes, I surprise myself with my ability to just ease my way back into a foreign language. 

As Doha airport was clean and beautiful, Charles de Gaulle was a mass of concrete structures, with absolutely no pleasing qualities and the buildings covered in a coating of blackened dust.

However, once through baggage claim, we pushed our trolley with boxes stacked on their ends due to narrow passages and inconveniently placed bollards obstructing the way, to a very efficient airport rail link to other terminals. 

At Terminal 2D, we disembarked and pushed our gear through the preoccupied hordes and outside, where eventually we found the shuttle bus, which took us to our hotel for the night.

As with the airport, the hotel, along with numerous others in the Roissy area, have a similar unattractive presence. 

Our room had an interesting set up. A large picture window gave a full view of the shower and a partial view of the toilet.  To add further interest, at the foot of the bed was a large window affording a view to the parking lot....and an interesting view for anybody in the parking lot if you should forget to close the bedroom curtains before using the bathroom!

However, the room was on the ground floor, ideal for us to get our cumbersome boxes to, and it was very spacious.

As weary as we were, we almost immediately began to put the bikes together.  With about three hours sleep over the past 35 hours, perhaps not the best idea but we managed.

We had landed at 2.30pm, but hadn't left the airport til 4pm and after assembling the bikes it was now 7pm.

Strolled through the village and found a small shop selling a good range of items.

Bought a few things along with a supposed pad Thai, which turned out to be a mass of thick noodles and a bit of flavour and nothing else. Safe to say, it filled a spot, but was by no means tasty.

Back at the hotel, we were struggling to keep our eyes open and by 9pm we surrendered to a 7+ hour sleep, but were eventually up by 4.30am sorting through our gear.

The quaint little town of Roissy where our hotel was situated.