I’ve never been to Paris before. It looks nice from the airport window.

Or at least what I can see of it, which is not much at all. I did manage to eventually fall asleep, only to be woken up a couple of hours later by the breakfast tray. Then you go through that awkward thought process: Oh God, was I snoring/drooling/making some unruly noise/flopping over the next seat/aisle? It doesn’t help when the crew seems to look at you like they know something that you don’t. Maybe it’s just me. The stewardess stood with my breakfast muffin and juice as I groggily fumbled with the seat tray. I heard her French accent through the music in my headphones – “Poosh down, ser”. Ahh. Right. I knew that. Now they have another thing to laugh about.

In any case, the rest of the flight went smoothly (except for a momentary freak out when I thought that the chocolate pudding cup I knicked from the dinner tray may have exploded in my backpack. But a quick check of its structural integrity and we were good to go.), and I found myself gazing out of the window from the Paris terminal, waiting for our connecting flight to Bamako. One more leg to go!

It’s a pretty sweet airport. They even have PS3 stations set up. Which, if you’ll excuse me, I’m about to go check out…

Next stop, Mali!

-R