Paris: A Grimmesque F & O Fairytale

Chapter One: A Flamingo and an Otter get to Paris

Once upon a time there were two fuzzy critters, living an uneventful life in America. Flynn the fabulous flamingo and Ollie the otter hung about the house, waiting for their friends to occasionally take them on ‘adventures’. Usually these adventures were to local poker rooms, the beach, or the mountains. A few times a year they went to California or Las Vegas. They were content for the most part, with only the occasional longing for countries afar. One day, that wish came true.

Flynn and Ollie boarded a plane for Europe. They spent 12 glorious days gallivanting about the Amalfi Coast, riding boats, climbing hills, sampling local fare, making friends with the locals, and generally being tourists. Oh, what a fabulous place, that Amalfi Coast! And while F & O had thoroughly enjoyed their time in Italy, they did not mind so much leaving, as they were next headed to Paris. Yes, the City of Love, with museums, history, cool architecture, and, yes, more great cuisine. Don’t forget the romantic, beautiful language – of which they spoke none except counting to 4, merci, bon jour, and crepe. Touchdown in Paris!

Character #1 ~ a bit player: the high-end car service driver from the airport to the hotel, they shall call Michael. This was not his real name, of course, since this is a fictional tale. However, he has been named such by F&O due to his taste in music which was Michael Jackson. Michael was late for the pick-up from CDG because he went to the wrong terminal. He barely spoke to F&O after finally finding the right place. F&O hop in, bags are loaded, and off they go to the hotel. All Michael Jackson, for the entire trip. Not just MJ, but old MJ – as in the kiddie stuff. It’s an hour from the airport to the hotel. Shall F & O strike up a convo with Michael? Of course! “Where are you from, Michael?” The answer is short and Flynn cannot even remember, but it was not from France. However, Michael begins to repeat over and over how much he LOVES America. He is an avid fan about everything American. He wants to live there for the rest of his life. Nope, he has never been to America. Okay then, moving on. F & O cannot get him to engage on any other topic, and make the rest of the drive listening to Billy Jean. They get to their hotel, which was the wrong hotel. It was a hotel down the street, and fortunately on a short block. Michael gets to schlep 4 bags up the street to the right place, at which point he takes off like a flash, to never been seen again.

F&O enter a beaucoup belle hotel (Hotel Baume), to be greeted by (Character #2) a concierge who speaks American English. No accent whatsoever. None. Somewhat disappointing, as F&O wanted to hear a fancy French accent. “Where are you from?”, Flynn inquires. “France” replies the concierge. As he speaks in perfect American, it is highly doubtful. The room is 100% Parisian. Small and beautiful, with a terrace overlooking the O’deon theatre in the arts district. It had a coffee maker (kiss Flynn’s fuzzy butt, Las Vegas strip hotels) with as much coffee as one could want. It had towel warmers, current converters, a small desk, and a giant bathtub & shower. The concierge, who was also the bellman, front desk clerk, and bartender, asked if F&O would like the hotel to store the empty suitcases elsewhere when they are unpacked. F&O decline but understand the offer: the room is that small. They unpacked, and off go Ollie and Flynn to explore their new ‘hood, and get some dinner.

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It was not an unpleasant evening in Paris, and most of the popular establishments were packed to the gills with locals sitting outside with their friends and lovers ~ drinking and smoking. Most assuredly this was like being on a movie set or a picture in a magazine, it was so very classic Paris. Since shoehorning into one of these crowded places seemed a daunting task for rookies, F&O chose a place down a small alley, with no customers. Being early for dinner, but not early for the bar scene, this did not concern the brave and experienced travelers. Dinner was a pleasant experience, during which Ollie chatted up the waitstaff and looked up local custom in Paris to make sure F&O would not make fools of themselves for the next two days. The next teeny adventure comes after dinner.

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Chapter Two: The Real Paris?

As is custom for the bird and the otter, they must stock up on bagels and protein for the morning breaking of fast. Turns out in Paris, this is harder than it seems. There are restaurants galore, as well as galleries, patisseries (all closed at night), French fashion finery, and bars. But, nary a food store in sight. F&O make inquiries, and are directed to one a few blocks away (after much discussion amongst the local shop owners who apparently never go grocery shopping).

This is a real grocery store. It is not of small proportion. It is not of huge proportion. It is packed full. Of French people. F&O cannot read any labels, because they are all in French. Good thing everyone knows what a croissant looks like. Turns out, not the case until Ollie looked it up at dinner.

(By the way, did you know that a real croissant is straight, not curved and must be made with butter? Curved pastries, often made with shortening, are impostors and should be reported to the bakery police immediately if they are claiming to be croissants.)

Oranges, tuna, peanut butter, and cookies are also fairly easy to identify. F&O cross toes that the tuna is not really cat food and head off to pay. The line is long to check out, going down an entire aisle of the store. F&O are patient critters, and it is fun to watch the locals. Finally they reach the check-stand! One must self-bag, and bags are for sale, which is good since F&O were without . All goes well until the checker lady tries to tell Ollie something about the oranges. She is very adamant about the oranges, pointing and shaking her head. There is a conversation between the checker and Ollie involving hand waving, shoulder shrugging, and French, all of which is a complete mystery to both Flynn and Ollie. Apparently oranges are a big deal here in Paris. There is a long line behind, F&O are holding it up, and soon there will be an angry mob of French shoppers demanding the guillotine.

The manager is summoned about the oranges. Clearly these are very important oranges. He speaks a modicum of the Otter’s English, and explains (mostly by gestures) that the oranges must be weighed and marked by the customer ahead of time, in the produce section. Ollie looks at the long line behind with some fear in his eyes as Flynn grabs the oranges, and starts to head off. Mr Manager realizes that this will be a futile task, as a US flamingo cannot read the sign for the cost & weight of the oranges, nor would the flamingo be able to write the weight down properly. The manager reluctantly whisks the oranges away to do this himself. The people in line roll their eyes, the checker lady rolls her eyes. F&O struggle to find the right Euros, and eventually make their way out of the store, with all fur and feathers barely intact. F&O head for the very French Hotel Baume, with the American concierge, never to return to the frightening supermarket.

Chapter Three: A Dark and Stormy Day

The following morning, after drinking copious amounts of French coffee, munching on real croissants and very important oranges, and showering in a huge tub, the heros head out to see EVERYTHING. F&O intend on taking the world renowned red double-decker hop-on-hop-off bus (Character #3) to see all there is in Paris. They stop at the desk to inquire of the American concierge where to catch the bus. The concierge shows his first inkling of actually having spent time in Paris by gently suggesting F&O take a different bus company, but they are not deterred. It must be the big red bus! He gives them a map, draws the line to the bus-stop, and hands Ollie an umbrella (character #4). Ollie takes the umbrella just to appease the American concierge, but secretly knows it will not be used, as a real Washingtonian never uses an umbrella.

They used the umbrella. When F&O made it to the bus stop through the pouring rain, they purchased the all-day passes for both red and blue lines so as to make sure they would see EVERYTHING. They planned out where to get off, where to get on, what to see, what to bypass. When they got on the bus, they went to the top level. It was wet. Very wet. The big red bus gave out thin rain ponchos. Yay bus! Fuzzy butts were wet from the seats, shoulders were dry. Off they went, towards the Arc de Triomphe. It took a long time to get there, even though it was not very far away. The wet tour guide told the passengers about what they were seeing ~ the Palace, Notre Dame (an old building covered in scaffolding), various museums, various museums that were previously prisons, private homes, and government buildings, and various museums that were just very old. Lest you think that Flynn has no regard for museums, think again. On the hard agenda for later that afternoon was a visit to the Louvre which is open late on Wednesdays. The Louvre was a do.not.miss. More on that later.

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F&O made it to the big Arc, walked through the Arc, walked under the Arc, and admired the Arc. They then walked around the Arc and did some general looking at Things on the streets surrounding the Arc. They had lunch at a real French restaurant, with beverages of course. After looking at the traffic, and the very wet ride on the big red bus, Ollie suggested a stroll down the Champs E’lysees. Well, of course they should do that, it is France! They passed a bunch of stores they could not afford, weaved around tourists, locals girls in stilettos, local men with briefcases, dodged a hundred umbrellas and waved at the store employees attempting to lure them in to purchase some high end couture. A stop at the Renault car dealership was great fun, but alas, F&O could not strike a deal with the sales manager, so they left empty handed. Soaking wet, they made it to another big red bus stop. And waited, and waited.

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After quite some time under the (unwanted) umbrella, F&O boarded the big red bus and set off on the next adventure, towards the real Eiffel Tower. F&O found themselves in hostile territory by the dreaded adversary: a large, loud family. The 15 of them yelled continually down the aisle to each other, switched seats, yelled some more and generally prevented anyone else from hearing the wet tour guide, nor getting a good look out the window at Parisian highlights. Rude, no consideration for anyone around them, entitled. If you weren’t there, this description would lead you to believe they were American. They were not. A long, slow drive to the next destination through horrendous traffic finally brought F&O to the back of the Eiffel Tower. The obnoxious family along with F&O exited the bus together. Since F&O are stealthy critters, they implemented evade and elude techniques and distanced themselves as far away as possible before taking on the obligatory photos ops.

Thinking they were home free from the perceived enemy, F&O went back to the big red bus stop. No such luck. The obnoxious family had out-witted them and were already there, in line. With determination and fortitude, F&O came up with a battle plan: wait for the next bus. And what a plan it was ~ there was no other passengers on the next bus save for a few polite ones. F&O were able to hear the wet tour guide and see the sights until the stop where they would disembark to get on the blue line and see more of EVERYTHING. To never see the obnoxious family again.

The blue line would take F&O to the rest of the sights, then drop them at the Louvre for the do.not.miss portion of the day’s field trip. The wet animals, under the big red bus rain ponchos and the unwanted umbrella waited and waited and waited some more along with 75 other big red bus customers. The bus was AWOL. There were a few other red line big red buses, but not many. No blue line bus. Staff in the office pretended that its arrival was imminent, but this was a thinly veiled attempt to keep customers hostage on the sidewalk so they could not see EVERYTHING. Having been witness to traffic earlier, F&O knew what the hold-up was: god-awful traffic standstills everywhere in the rain. No one was going anywhere. Unless, of course, you had Plan B in the bag: hoofing it. Knowing fully well they would miss seeing EVERYTHING, they set off across the the Seine for the very old museum.

Chapter Four: A Dark and Stormy Evening

Having done research on the very old museum (or is that a museum with really old stuff in it?), Flynn planned on entering the Louvre via the alternate entrance at the carnival-mall-galleria-small-upside-down-glass-pyramid-place. The line at the main entrance was out-of-doors and many hours long so this seemed to be a good plan. Since F&O were already soaked to gills they didn’t know they had, an extra 10 minute walk was a no brainer. The museum was to close late that night, 9pm, so F&O had a good 3 hours to enjoy really old stuff. Wouldn’t you know it: stymied again! The line here to the Louvre was also long. Strangely enough, there were a ton of humans who had also decided that being inside during a downpour would be better than being outdoors. Flynn said f*** it, they will go to the Louvre tomorrow, earlier. They shall, instead, just wander around the galleria. Of course, after making the lap of high-priced stores, the line to the Louvre is shorter! It is now 7pm, and Flynn says f*** it, they are going in. They can fly by the museum in two hours, no problem. They get in line. Turns out this line is not for tickets, it is for security before buying tickets. 15 minutes in that line. Then the line for tickets: 30 minutes.

(As a matter of pride, it should be noted that Flynn got the tickets by speaking entirely in French! “deux, por favor” “merci”. Just sayin’ – a bilingual bird now!)

They are in! Wait, they are not in. Ollie must check his unwanted umbrella. They are not allowed in the Louvre with an umbrella. Flynn bides his time taking pictures at the entrance steps and helps with security while Ollie deals with this unwanted umbrella. Finally, they are really in! Normally Flynn is the artsy-examiner type, but this time it is Ollie who dallies to examine every-single-piece of very old art they encounter. Clearly they are not going to cover a hundredth of the place in an hour and a half. C’est la vie (see how Flynn did that?). They know the Mona Lisa is out because that room is closed, but the Venus de Milo is a score as are a bunch of other sculptures, paintings, jewelry, furniture, and other very old art. F&O could stay for a week. Well, probably two days.

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Before F&O know it, they are shutting down. F&O try to hide in an alcove and stow away, but are busted by security and led out in flippercuffs. Unfortunately, rather then escorting them out the nearest entrance, they are let loose in the galleria again, with all the other humans attempting to vacate in an orderly fashion. May be a good idea to visit the powder room, regroup, bail the unwanted umbrella out of parasol jail, and figure out which of the 10 exits to leave by to make the walk back to their own district a little shorter. Lines are (again) horrendously long for the powder room, so that is an abort. Bail is paid, and with full bladders F&O then head for the exit they need, only to be turned away by chains and padlocks. Their second attempt at escape (at the far end), is also foiled by security with batons. There is one exit, and one exit only, open at this time. This one exit is also heavily guarded: by hawkers-of-umbrellas as far as the eye could see. Fortunately, Ollie had his own unwanted umbrella and Flynn could speak French now (“no, merci”), so they ventured off into the dark for home armed only with a soaked, disintegrating big red bus paper map, thin ponchos, a sketchy Google map connection, and of course the umbrella.

Chapter Five: A Dark and Stormy Night

Home: The Very French Hotel Baume with the American concierge, located on a small street about a 20 minute walk from the Louvre. IF F&O had been able to exit the Louvre on the most optimal side rather than the furthest side. IF they knew intimately how to get there by foot. IF Google maps would just work properly. IF it was not pitch black and pouring rain. IF F&O were not hungry, tired, and didn’t need to desperately to see some men about horses. Instead, the trip home to the Hotel Baume became quite the desperate comedy for the dynamic duo. Getting across the Seine was a piece of cake, it’s hard to miss. Knowing where to turn from there was a whole different story, ending up far from where F&O need to be, but not knowing this ~ they frequently stand under awnings in dark alleys trying to figure out where they are on phones that are rapidly running out of battery.

Be forewarned, fellow Paris travelers, navigating the city is not for the faint of heart. The goblins are out at night, as are the lions, tigers and bears. Wait, no, that is not right. Ollie has to rein in Flynn, who is tempted to take a whiz in the darkest alley he can find because who the heck knows how much is costs to use a toilette in some random bar, and finding the correct currency would be a challenge that no one has time for. Google has become the enemy, telling them to turn down streets that don’t exist, or if they do, F&O can’t find them. Google cruelly toys with them, allowing them to switch from foot directions to car directions, then instructing them to go the opposite way! The paper map finally evaporates in the rain, and Ollie resorts to breaking out the battery pack (he carries ammo at all times for the boogeymen). Flynn holds the umbrella while Ollie tries to figure out where the heck they are, and lest you think it would be a simple matter of asking directions… that would absolutely be against the rules of engagement.

It is now more than double the official estimated time to walk from the Louvre to the Hotel Baume with the American concierge. Many restaurants are shut for the night, and the local late-nighters are headed to their very expensive apartments. It is, after all, a Wednesday and a work night. Even the French are not that hard-core. F&O are fairly sure they are closer than when they started, but nothing looks familiar. It is time to call a cease fire with the city of Paris. F&O declare themselves officially lost, and seek shelter, sustenance, and a restroom from the closest open business they can find on their current dark, narrow alley. (All Paris streets are dark and narrow late at night.) It is standard operating procedure for restaurants and bars to speak some English to cater to the tourist dollars, so F&O reluctantly stumble into the Bistro One to admit defeat. There are four humans to be seen in the place, and two more voices coming from a small upstairs room. Two of the humans were finishing up a meal, one was behind the bar, and the other was clearly the proprietor. With confidence that only American flamingos and otters can muster, F&O wish them “bonsoir” (another local custom that Ollie had looked up) and ask for a drink, food, and a bathroom. They are met with blank stares. No one moves a muscle.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. This back alley, locals only bar, small and almost empty, does not cater to tourists. Bistro One does not speak English. F&O have heard the stories about the disdain the French have towards Americans. Should they back away slowly and carefully? F&O realize they are at a crossroads. They refuse to give up. They refuse to pee in an alley or go hungry, or worse, spend the night on the street to be murdered by Jaque the Ripper. (Stop it Flynn! Wrong story again.)

No. Instead they use the universal language of ‘Mojito’ while pointing at the bar. Ollie points at the kitchen and rubs his belly, and Flynn crosses his legs. The lights go on in the manager’s eyes. He gives instructions to the bartender. He points the way to the restroom. He woefully shakes his head in the direction of the kitchen. It is closed. Ollie pouts. The manager makes calming noises and says in fluent English “I will get you something”. And, oh boy, did he ever. Bistro One place put together the most beautiful charcuterie board F&O had ever seen.

F&O eat, drink and dry off. The night is looking more promising. It is very late, and they still must get home to the very French Hotel Baume, with its most comfortable bed and American speaking concierge. F&O are still lost though. With dread they put their big red bus thin ponchos back on, pick up the unwanted umbrella and head for the door. In a flash of genius, Flynn remembers he has the business card from the Hotel Baume tucked away. The American speaking concierge gave it to them before they left that morning, telling F&O that if they were to get lost, just present the card to anyone and directions would be forthcoming. Ta da ~ Flynn presents it with a flourish to the Bistro One manager. He passes it to the Bistro One bartender. They look at each other and shrug. They shake their heads in tandem, hand it back, and kick F&O out into the street. They never meet again.

If Flynn were to elaborate on the rest of the night, it would read something like “F&O stumbled through the streets of Paris until daylight, fighting off witches and flying monkeys….”. But no. Turns out the Hotel Baume was only three blocks from the Bistro One, and once Ollie smacked some sense into Google, they made it back to the hotel in record time. The American concierge took back the unwanted umbrella, asked if they had a good day (uhm….), and sent them off to their beautiful room.

Chapter Six: A New Day and High Hopes

The next morning, F&O did battle with the coffee maker and lost. They greeted the American speaking concierge who brought F&O a fancy coffee service (hark back to the coffee maker problem), and met the manager of the hotel who fixed the coffee maker by scolding it in French. She may have also scolded F&O in French, but that remains unproven. F&O spent the morning eating very important oranges and real croissants, sitting on their patio, and otherwise taking in the ambiance of their surroundings in a more relaxed state. Dare they venture out again? Hours later, after baths in the most excellent tub and the electronics are charged, they put on their brave faces and go to the lobby. The American speaking concierge is there, ready to help yet again.

This time F&O wish to take a boat on the Seine. It is no longer raining in Paris, they will not get wet unless they fall into the water. It is an easy walk to the river, and they will spend time after the tour wandering about their own district in daylight. The American speaking concierge most certainly can assist in this endeavor. He gives F&O directions to the ‘good’ boat company, and this time they heed his advice. Off they go. Almost. Since this will be their last night in Europe, in Paris particularly, they need a recommendation for a Very French Dinner that night. Again, the American speaking concierge can help with this. He thinks a bit, and offers up a suggestion for a place called Le Christine not too far from the hotel, an easy 10 minute walk. The American speaking concierge will call the restaurant to make the reservation for F&O. He picks up the phone, dials and proceeds to speak in 100% perfect with no-doubt-about-it, full on fluent FRENCH, accent and all. F&O could not understand a word, but it was beautiful.

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The scene as seen from the Seine was what F&O were hoping for the day before. They saw almost EVERYTHING, were able to hear the dry tour guide, the weather cooperated, and the fellow passengers were courteous. It was a glorious ride.

They disembarked, and began a foot tour of the more local area, just strolling along as if they were in a movie.. They looked at art galleries (Flynn would like to note that there is some hideous art out there, folks), art supply stores, gardening stores, local architecture, local characters and general Parisian culture.

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F&O stopped for a light snack at Le Deux Magots, (Flynn had to look up the meaning before partaking, just in case) where some very famous historical humans used to gather. F&O did not see any famous, historical or otherwise, humans there ~ likely because the joint is far too popular with both tourists and Parisian locals. They did see a citron Citroen parked out front, a snobby waiter (finally crossed that off the list), and lots of stilettos and briefcases again. A good lunch, and a gallon of chocolate each for dessert rounded out the experience.

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Chapter Seven: The Final Night

They eventually made their way back to the beautiful room, which took quite a while as it is very easy to get lost in Paris. Some relaxing on the private terrace happened, a change of clothes to go to dinner, and they were off again on foot for the 10 minutes walk to Le Christine. But wait, they must first stop at the American AND French speaking concierge, as F&O would like to set up the hired car service to come 30 minutes earlier than originally planned. After having witnessed Paris traffic, confidence was not high they would make it to the airport without having to do the terminal dash and Ollie is a swimmer, not a runner. The concierge advises he will do his best to accommodate, but this time he has doubt in his voice. F&O shrug, maybe he go this accents confused, and head off for the 10 minute walk to dinner.

The Very French Restaurant is just down the street, cross over main Rue de Something, one block further, on the right. Yeah, right. For the rookies to the City of Love, there is no just crossing a street. The roads are all cockeyed, quadriple-barreled Y intersections , and change names. Crossing one really means getting to the 6 way intersection, and standing there for a while before taking your best guess at which street goes the straight-ist across. But, it is all a trick. Because it’s none of them. No matter which street you pick, it is the wrong one. This is why F&O got lost the night before. Curses! The 10 minute walk was a 30 minute walk. And that is okay, because they had to work off the gallon of Hershey bars they drank for lunch.

The Very French Restaurant is clearly where F&O want to be. It is an unassuming small establishment located in an alley, at the end of which is a rather large, old church. The window dressing of Le Christine: a fully garbed priest and nun sitting in the coin de la fenêtre, having a meal. Flynn could hardly contain himself, he wanted a picture so so badly. Would it be rude to interrupt? Better safe than to be damned, so F&O just let them be and are led to the main dining room (all of 6 tables) in the back.

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Le Christine is not a fancy-dancy, white-linen, nose-in-the-air kind of Very French Restaurant. It has a rustic flare, with locally sourced and responsibly prepared Very Fancy dishes. It is popular, and rightly so. Flynn and Ollie very much enjoyed their meals, the kind waiter, and their fellow diners. As is often the case, the not-so-shy Flynn had to make the rounds and talk to fellow travelers to see how they were faring. Alcohol may or may not have been involved. One wonders why Flynn does not remember the walk back, nor how long it took.

Back at the Hotel Baume, F&O checked with the hired car service. They had gotten the request, but were unsure if they could accommodate it due to the pending taxi strike. Wait, what? This is the first F&O have heard of this. Seems the taxi drivers of Paris were as frustrated with the traffic situation as the tourists, and were going to show everyone their power to make a cluster of everyone’s day. Lovely. The hired car service sent a notification of a driver change, and a pick up time change. They urged F&O to keep their communication devices at the ready. F& O went to bed.

Chapter Eight: Flynn and Ollie’s Final Hours ~ In Paris, Duh!

The following far too early morning, F&O were interrupted from their breakfast of very important oranges and croissants by a text from the hired car company. They had another driver change (this back to the original one, but thankfully not Michael), and the pick-up time was back at the original (later) time. Fingers crossed, they drink another cup of coffee from their coffee-maker (suck it again, LV strip hotels), and meander down to the lobby to wait for the driver.

A driver arrives. He shall be called Donald (Character #5) as he was an odd duck. Donald is not the most recent driver they said would come, instead he is the one before that. F&O are confused. Donald tells them that because of the taxi strike, his co-worker could not make it, so he came to whisk them off to CDG airport. Donald does not think traffic will be bad, as the taxis are coming in to the city to make life difficult, and F&O will be headed out of Paris. Lovely. F&O point to their bags to be taken to the car. Donald looks at the bags as if they were full of imitation croissants. He turns back to F&O and says he can only take two of the four bags.

Wait, what (again)? Apparently the hired car service, wires crossed one more time, thinks that 2 live passengers, with 2 bags each, is equal to a sum total of 2 bags. (Math is sure different in France!) The car that was scheduled to handle the F&O trip was not equipped for so many bags, says Donald, and there would have been an extra charge for a bigger vehicle. 1.. Michael had not said a word about this and B. obviously, Flynn and Ollie are not going to leave two bags of their belongings in Paris. A standoff ensues. Flynn looks to the curb, where the big black fancy SUV is waiting. Flynn looks back at Donald and stares him down. No one can out stare-standoff Flynn. Donald packs all four bags into the big SUV without a word. There is room to spare.

The trip to CDG begins. Donald assures F&O that he is taking a route that will not be impacted by the taxi strike. Donald tells us how bad things are in Paris, and how horrible the politicians are, and why the taxis are striking. The French president is clearly not loved by Donald, as he goes on and on about the president’s marital scandals and tax stance. Donald does not say that he wants to live in America though, and he does not play a single Michael Jackson song. The taxi strike does not rear its ugly head until F&O near the end of their ride, close to the airport. Even then, they make it in plenty of time. Donald unloads all 4 bags, never to be seen again.

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Chapter Nine: The End

Flynn and Ollie check in for their flight, spend an hour in the Sky Lounge, and eventually curl up in their business class seats for the 12 hour flight home to America. Hey Paris: You have the Louvre, croissants, and history, We have Michael Jackson and fast food. F&O will chop the pot with you.