Anecdote, Feb.4 2010

We started the trip when I was 6, on a flight from San Francisco-Montreal-Paris. I don't remember the first leg, but we landed in snow in Montreal about midnight, and had to change planes. My dad wrapped my little sister in 'the Lufthansa blanket' and carried her to the next plane. The blanket made the complete journey around the world over the next 18 months. After we had taken off for the overnight flight from Montreal, a cheese snack was served, and I informed my mother that the odor of the cheese would not be acceptable to the children in the cabin. She was sympathetic, but had little appreciation for the terrors in store. Both of my sisters and I proceeded to retch violently for the first few hours of the flight, until we were all exhausted. I can't remember falling asleep, but I remember waking with an empty, crumpled, barf-bag under my head which I held up triumphantly to my mother. Once we got to Paris, we made our way to a large hotel, with a great deal of luggage. I strode directly to a large marble surface, so as not to soil the carpets, bent over, and retched the remains of any previous life onto the floor. The family spent the next few days nursing themselves on hot cocoa with skin on top under duvets somewhere in the hotel. And we will always have Paris.