Meanwhile, one evening after work, I got on the road to drive to Roissy airport in Paris also called Charles De Gaulle airport (CDG). My village is 3 hrs drive by motorway to the south entrance of Paris named 'porte d'Orleans'. But Roissy is another hour to the north on the way to Lille.
My son and his family were arriving on a flight from Noumea at 4 am. I had plenty of time so I took the highway to save the toll fee on the motorway. And then by 10 pm as the light was dimming and I was fairly tired, I pulled up on a side road, sat in the back, kicked my shoes off and settled for a good rest.
I hadn't been there 15 minutes when a police van pulled up and two 'gendarmes' were asking me what I thought I was doing there. I explained. They didn't seem to believe me and advised me to move on.
So I got back behind the wheel and drove on.
But the thing was that for one I had been taken for a prostitute and second they didn't believe me. I left them a brochure... To this day no gendarme has been to my pottery studio to throw a pot on the wheel.
When I pulled up to park under of the 'arrivals' sign at CDG airport in the dark of the night, a police car appeared out of nowhere and pulled up beside me. Eerie.
The plane arrived on time. After a long time waiting for the passengers to be cleared, all 4 of us now headed back for St Civran. It took what remained of the night to drive on the motorway back home with my precious cargo on board.
Me and my old Ford