Just a little funny story about traveling back to the US from France. I left the house in France about 8:40 in the morning and walked the 20 steps out to the bus stop, where the bus arrived promptly to take me to the train station. The train ride was a little slower than expected, apparently there was an incident that slowed things down.
So I arrived at CDG with a little less than 2 hours to go until my flight, but they are really pretty fast at checking us in now, and only asked me 4x if I was carrying any liquids or hand guns, why don't they just ask if I am carrying any liquid explosives, and save us all some time? Anyway, after the 4th security check point, I was deemed screened and able to shop again at the duty free stores, where, I could buy any liquids I wanted and would be allowed to take all of them on the plane. We were warned however, that we could not take them onto any connecting flights, and would have to check them at the next city.
After a 9 hour basically uneventful flight, we arrived home where we could then go through US Customs. They grilled me about the foie gras I was carrying, and then allowed me to collect my luggage, and asked me again why I was coming to the US, before taking my luggage again, and sending me through yet another metal detector. The man behind me, didn't understand that despite that we were home, and about to leave the airport, we still couldn't carry any liquids, even those that we were allowed to carry on the plane...on our person through the rest of the airport terminal. That is, we could carry it on the plane, through customs, into the baggage claim area, but not out of the baggage claim through the terminal until we reclaimed our luggage at the top of the terminal, just before exiting the airport. They nearly confiscated his 3 bottles of wine! They threatened to take any gels, lotions or liquids anyone was trying to carry out of the airport---is this really necessary?
So, I lent him a bag I had carried onto the plane, so that he could go back and re-check the wine, which then we would wait for again at the top floor at the baggage claim. I told him the other alternative was we could drink it there, but that really wasn't an option either, as there were no stools or a bottle opener.
We walked through the terminals, up the escalator and waited for the luggage to come out the other end, which it did with his wine bottles in my bag, safely tucked in a plastic bin. He was grateful for the help, and I was chuckling thinking of lunacy that anyone could think this somehow made the country any safer.
But hey, it was one less thing that we had to carry while we made the hike up to the main terminal, and I guess that is the silver lining in this crazy system. and it gave me a good story for the blog.
