Never Again

I've been home from my Poland trip for almost two weeks, and I've posted all about it ... except about my visit to the Auschwitz Concentration Camp.  I know that part of the reason I have been so slow about doing this is that it was a very humbling, numbing and overwhelming experience, and honestly, I don't believe I can do it justice.  But it's also about the political landscape in the U.S. today.  More about that later.

I know I won't be able to convey the enormity of a place like Auschwitz sufficiently, for I can hardly clear the chatter in my own head about it.  It's like you learned about the Holocaust in school, perhaps even studied it on your own.  But those are just words on paper, no matter how much you felt about the words while reading them.  You just can't imagine how inadequate your knowledge of the Holocaust really is until you physically see something like Auschwitz. 

Kristen in front of the "Work Makes You Free" sign


The day of our visit was gray and dreary, which I think is entirely befitting a visit to Auschwitz.  I don't know that I could reconcile a beautiful and sunny day with it; it belongs to the cold and the bleak. 






The bus dropped us off a short walk away from the Auschwitz 1 grounds, and that walk was lined with the stories of various people. 

 
These were real people - with real lives, and real family and friends, dreams and aspirations.  It's hard to believe that they were put in a place like this for nothing more than who their ancestors were. Who among us got to choose that?  I wanted to read every story, to at least pay that much of a tribute, but I knew there wasn't time ... there are just so many. 

After going through the museum entrance, we were left to wander the main grounds of Auschwitz 1.  This is an area of several acres with identical brick buildings neatly lined up.  These were originally barracks for the Polish Army, prior to being confiscated by the Germans.  The SS selected this site because it was out in the middle of nowhere, and was close to an existing rail line. These buildings eventually held more than 20,000 people until Auschwitz 2, or Birkenau, was built.  Today the buildings host a number of exhibits about the camp, as well as thousands of portraits of those killed there. 

Most of the buildings were either devoted to a certain aspect of camp life, and/or were an exhibit sponsored by a country. 

I have to confess that what I found most disturbing were the exhibits of ordinary objects - shoes, luggage, glasses.  But when you see such objects in these huge, impersonal piles - knowing that the prisoners were stripped of literally EVERYTHING as soon as they arrived - and you look at any given pair of shoes or glasses, and think, "That was a person.  A person who probably did not make it out of there alive." (The majority of prisoners were killed immediately; the remaining prisoners were worked and starved, and often subjected to medical experimentation.)  

 

Prisoners, standing in thin clothes no matter what the weather was, had to wait until the roll call list was verified ... however long that took.  If someone had escaped, it could take hours (the record was 19 hours).  If someone fainted or wet or soiled themselves, they were shot immediately. 

The court yard between Buildings 10 and 11 were where executions were held.  Many medical experiments were conducted in Building 10, and Building 11 was where court was held.  Prisoners endured lengthy court sessions for anything from working too slowly to pulling out a gold tooth to buy bread.  Punishments ranged from flogging to execution by firing squad in front of the court yard's "Death Wall."  Later, a mortuary/crematorium was converted to a gas chamber, which was used until 1943 when larger facilities were built at Auschwitz 11, or Birkenau.    We spent three or four hours there, and could easily have spent many more hours.  The enormity of what happened there is hard to imagine, let alone convey.  Believe me when I say I have only touched the surface.  Never again. That's the morally-correct reaction to the Holocaust; the only sane retribution we can possibly make is to vow that such atrocities will never happen again.  But they have happened again .... they ARE happening again... in places all around the world.  Places far enough removed from our safe little lives here in the U.S. that we don't have to think about them if we don't want to. I am not one to lightly toss around a comparison to Hitler or the Holocaust.  In fact, I think it's disrespectful to those who actually went through it to compare anything but the most evil of evils to the Holocaust.  But I'm going to come pretty close to it in my concern about Donald Trump.  In my opinion, Trump is a clown, a buffoon, an egomaniac.  He throws insults around like he gets paid by the insult, and yet becomes offended quite easily.  He professes to be a winner, but has bankrupted pretty much every business he has put his hands to.  He comes down hard on illegal immigrants, even though he used them to build his buildings.   But he ain't no Hitler. What DOES give me chills, however, is that he has tapped into a side of the American people that is so ugly and hateful.  He has proposed banning and/or registering Muslims, and people cheer.  He wants to build a wall all around the United States, and people think he's the neatest thing since sliced bread.  He mocks women, disabled people and pretty much every group that is NOT old white males, and he continues to lead in the primary polls.  He fans the flame of distrust and hatred toward the "other" and people praise him for speaking his mind.   It is not Donald Trump that I'm afraid of.  It's us. I'm afraid when so many people are not only willing, but anxious to destroy the rights and liberties of others simply because they're different.  You know, Hitler was, at first, welcomed by the German people because he promised prosperity to all.  He then gradually built up the fear and loathing of the "other," taking liberties away bit by bit from them.  The Holocaust didn't happen overnight, but it all begins with believing a fellow human being is "less" than you.  Ask yourself who will protect you when you become part of a undesirable group. Never again begins with each of us.

Life in Poland

The reason for my recent journey to Europe was to help my daughter and her family move temporarily to Warsaw, Poland.  Her husband had gone over a bit earlier so that he could get their apartment (or flat, as it seems to be called there) ready and stocked.  The last thing needed after such a long and strenuous journey with two small children (ages 2 and 5) was to arrive with nothing set up.  So Sterling got the household items and furnishings needed, along with groceries - plus he needed to hit the ground running in his temporary work assignment.  I had planned to visit them while they're in Poland, but thought it would be in late spring or early summer.  However, I knew my help would be most useful to assist Kris in getting the kids, plus six months worth of clothes and sundries (11 suitcases worth) there.  I wouldn't have chosen to visit Poland in February, but that's what it ended up being.

By coincidence, my friend Marta (who's living in Prague now) just happened to be in Poland the day after I arrived.  We were able to meet for coffee at a little coffee house around the corner from Kris and Sterling's place and catch up a bit.  It's a small world!

The Parker's flat is located in a complex of several buildings in a lovely area close to central Warsaw.  It is flanked by parks and is close to a rail station.  They're on what Americans would consider the second floor, but here it is the first floor.  The flat has three good sized bedrooms (although one of the bedrooms, Zoe's room, has no closet, so I suppose it would be considered an office or something), and one and a half bathrooms, so it's a decent size. It's beautifully appointed, with hardwood floors throughout, high-end doors, a very modern - if somewhat weird - kitchen, two large balconies, and beautiful shelving. 

There are a few odd things, or at least odd to we Americans.  For example - and I don't know if this is a Polish thing or specific to this landlord - there is a washer but no dryer.  With as much laundry as the Parkers generate, I can't imagine that line drying will go well.  Or heating pads.  According to Marta, who is from Warsaw, there's no such thing here.  Kris was pretty unhappy about that.  The flat also has great security, which I'm very grateful for.  There's a great playground in the complex, and several others very close by.  Though it was pretty gray and dreary in my time there, I'm sure once spring arrives it will be quite beautiful.

It is also only a short walk to the train station, and just one stop away from the central train station and central Warsaw.   We went there the night after we arrived.  We had dinner at Vapianos, an Italian restaurant, where they give you a card to keep track of your food and beverage purchases.  You then go to one or more of the stations - one for pizza, one for salads, one for pasta, etc.  You tap the card at each station for whatever is purchased and then the cashier reads the card at the end of the meal for payment.  The food was great, with generous portions.  One great thing about Poland is that prices are really quite low - especially food prices.  My quite large Greek salad and a glass of wine was about $7 - about what just the wine would be here in the U.S.  Other restaurants were equally inexpensive.  We really liked another local pizza place, where our meal of a large pizza, an even larger pizza, a pasta dish, a salad and five drinks was just a bit over $20, and they refused an offered tip. 

Grocery prices are similarly low.  Kris joked that they're going to experience sticker shock when they have their first visit to Costco back in the States.  Going to the grocery store was always a very interesting experience, and we went quite often.  Because the Parkers will have no car while they're there, they have to haul everything home by hand - which necessitates frequent trips.  Few of the grocery items are in English.  Some things are obvious, like milk, but others are a mystery.  Kris has to have a translator with her so she can figure out what things are.  Some items just seemed odd, like the ketchup-flavored Cheetos, or the hot dog buns that were hollow cylinders of bread. 

We went down to "Old Warsaw" one night, but it was very bad weather, so we couldn't really enjoy it.  We were trying to find a good Polish restaurant to eat at, but it was snowing and the kids were cold and hungry.  All the restaurants in the area we were in were actually a bit on the expensive side. We were huddled in the entry way of one of these places, contemplating going back out to the main square to catch an Uber ride, when a couple of Americans came out of the restaurant.  It turns out that the gentleman does pretty much what I used to do - arrange travel for groups - and he and his daughter were on a site visit to Poland and other locations.  He was pretty talkative, and by the time they left, we decided that the kids couldn't handle any further delay in getting some dinner.  So we had dinner there, even though it was a bit on the expensive side.  That wouldn't have been so bad, if the service had been decent.  It was a very small, pub-like place, and we waited for our meal for quite some time.  It was okay, but not great. 

People smoke a lot in Poland, and don't seem to have much concern for where they smoke.  There also doesn't seem to be many restrictions about where smoking is allowed.

A couple of days before I left, Kris had her first doctor appointment.  She was a bit apprehensive about it - both about the health care system in general, and about finding her way around.  But she had a very positive experience with both aspects, and felt reassured about her pregnancy health care.  I am hoping they will be back home before Baby Girl Parker makes her debut, but it's good to know that she'll receive good care while she's there. 

The kids seem to be adjusting to life in Poland pretty well, especially Atti.  His appetite has been enormous, and he started talking right away about missing Poland when they move back.

It gets dark quite early in Poland, with dusk starting around 4:30.  It seemed like the days were really, really short because by the time Zoe got up from her nap, it was already getting dark.  So we actually didn't have much time in the daytime to go do much. 

All too soon, it was time for me to head home.  Even though I had but a taste of what living in Europe is like, I'm sure that the Parkers will have an unforgettable experience.  They will likely face challenges, but what beautiful memories they are making!  I will miss them terribly.  All I can say is thank heavens for Skype!

Beautiful Rome

There may be friends who disagree with me, but I think Rome is a beautiful and charming city ... for the most part.  Perhaps I feel that way because I've only been there a handful of times.  Perhaps it's because my very first "view" of Rome was from the balcony of the Cavalieri Hotel, an absolutely stunning hotel with an even more stunning view.  This view of Rome was my first ever, since we had arrived at the hotel late the previous night.

I think it's also because of those wonderful Stone Pine and Cyprus trees everywhere, and that generally speaking it's a pretty green city.

It's also because I have been with some of the people I love most on all but one of my trips. 

As mentioned in a previous post, we rented a "flat" (apartment, condo ... take your pick), on the 4th floor in a building literally around the corner from the Colosseum.  It had a small kitchen (obviously not set up for serious cooking, but that's ok), a living room which could also be closed off and used for a private bedroom, a master bedroom with an attached bathroom, a second bedroom and a second bathroom.  So much more comfortable for a family traveling together than a typical hotel room, and less expensive than a decent hotel room.  I usually use VRBO; there's also AirBnB and HomeAway.  Marco, the owner, even provided us with a PlayNPak for Zoe. 

We had dinner the first night at a restaurant across the street from the Colosseum.  What a view for dinner!

Sterling joined us the next day. 

On Saturday, we bought tickets for the Big Bus sightseeing double-decker bus, which, as I've said before, is a great way to get an overview of a city (Sterling had never been before).  They provide ear buds for a running commentary, which is provided in a multitude of languages.  The bus makes a circuit of the most popular sites, and you can get on and off as much as you want during the time period purchased.

 

Here is the tribute that tells the story of Rome's founding.  Twins Remus and Romulus were born to Rhea Silvia and the God Mars.  They were abandoned as babies in the Tiber River, where they were found and nurtured by a she-wolf and a woodpecker.  Later a family of shepherds took them in and raised them.  After they had grown into natural leaders, they found out who they really were and killed their uncle Amulius, who had caused them to be abandoned as babies.  However, they argued about where Rome should be founded and Remus ended up being killed.  The surviving twin, Romulus, named the new city after himself.  

On the first circuit, the only place we got off and spent time at was the Vatican stop.  Kris and family went on one of the tours.  I have been on this tour every time I've come to Rome, including a private tour after hours for our group there in 2007.  So I elected to sit in the entry plaza, ate biscotto gelato (delicious!), wrote in my journal, and watched people.  Here's some of my musings that day: 

I'm sitting on a bench in the sunshine outside the Vatican, having just finished a biscotto gelato.  It seems that there is something going on today, judging by the hundreds of people sitting on chairs in the square.  Maybe it's just a regular Mass. 

I'd rather people watch than go on a tour today.  I'm a people watcher wherever I go, and doing so in an international location such as this is just that much more interesting.  For example, a gentleman just walked by pulling two large suitcases behind him, headed toward St. Peter's Square.  Why does he have his luggage?  Is he just passing through Rome, trying to see something of the city before moving on, the same way we were in Paris?  Did he have no place to leave his bags?  Or maybe he just didn't know a place like Bagages du Monde exists. Or maybe it doesn't exist in Rome.   

A bit later ...

A huge group of middle school aged kids just went by.  Are they local kids?  If so, how cool would it be to have such an awesome site available for a field trip?  Or maybe it's not all that cool to them and they take it for granted.  Or perhaps they're from somewhere else and they're on a grand trip. 

Kids are not very prevalent here.  Maybe that's why Atti and Zoe have been free wherever we go. 

It is still sunny and warm as I wait for the kids to finish their tour.  My only discomfort is a cold, numb butt from sitting on a stone bench.  I alternate it with sitting on my lumpy, but somewhat softer and definitely warmer purse.  I may end up using my purse as a pillow and lay down.  I haven't been sleeping all that great, and the warm sun is definitely giving me heavy eyes. 

Later that night, after we had returned to the flat and had dinner, we took an Uber ride to the Trevi Fountain area.  The weather was mild and the crowds relatively thin at the Fountain, a wonderful combination in which to stroll, window shop and yes, enjoy more people watching. 



Sterling returned on Warsaw on Sunday (since he has a job and everything, lol).  Since Kris and I had purchased a second day on the Big Bus, we decided to just ride the circuit on Sunday.  By the time we got going, and rode the circuit (a couple of hours), it was definitely time for lunch and Zoe's nap.  The only negative was that we ended up having to sit on the bus at the Termini station for a half hour.  The day before we just had to get on a different bus to continue on.  Kris and I were joking that the driver was enjoying his lunch and a cigarette break, but that was probably the truth.  Unfortunately, by that time the kids were really getting hungry and tired, so we could have done without the wait.

Later, after Zoe's nap, we took a taxi to the Piazza Novano.  This is a huge "square" (actually it's more of a rectangle) with one of Rome's numerous fountains at the center (Fountain of the Four Rivers, 1651).  The perimeter of the piazza is filled with restaurants, gelato, art shops and souvenir shops.  One of the best places is a toy shop called Al Sogno, with long time favorites and a wonderful private collection display.  It's too bad it was so crowded and small - we could have spent hours in there.



We ended the night with yet one more Italian meal.  Here is one thing about Rome you should know.  At least in our experience, almost all restaurants offer the same Italian menu.  Yes, it's wonderful food for the most part, and we were in Italy after all.  But after several meals from basically the same menu, we found ourselves craving something (anything!) different.  As we drove around Rome on the Big Bus and by taxi, we did see other cuisines from time to time, but really they were few and far between.  I realize that this is something I have failed to appreciate about the U.S. fully - the diversity of our culture and cuisine.

Another benefit of renting through a private owner is that they're often more flexible about late check-out.  Marco didn't have anyone coming in on Monday, so he was okay for us to stay until 2 or 3 pm.  It really would have been a pain in the butt to have to be out of there at 11 or 12.  So we all slept in on Monday.  The kids desperately needed a bath, but there weren't any bath tubs in Marco's flat.  Zoe ended up taking a bath in the oversize sink in the master bath, and I talked Atti into taking a shower after I showed him how he could use the hand-held and wouldn't have to get his hair or face wet.

   

Planes, Trains and Automobiles (and a Big Bus)

One of the benefits of being anywhere in Europe is that you can go to most other places in Europe pretty cheaply ($78 round trip from Warsaw to Rome).  Going cheaply has its own set of problems to deal with, but if you have a major dose of wanderlust, as I do, it's a huge plus to be able to GO! without breaking the bank.  I can deal with the associated problems, but I am now quite well-versed on how especially difficult it is for little kids to handle the stress.

We arrived at the Parker's new Warsaw home on Tuesday, and left for Rome on Thursday.  In hindsight, the trip may have been better to do the second weekend I'm here, but I leave early Sunday morning so that second weekend isn't even a whole weekend. 

One of the major low-cost airlines in Europe is RyanAir, which operates out of minor airports - Modlin in the case of Warsaw, which is a good 40 minute drive from where the Parkers live.  The good news is that Uber rides are pretty inexpensive to the airport (as is Warsaw in general).  The bad news is that it is about three times as expensive and three times as long as it would be to go to Chopin airport.  The only downfall relative to Uber is that you will have to wait for your return ride, whereas the driver was at our place within about 5 minutes for the ride out to Modlin.  We ended up taking a taxi home when we got back, at about 45 Euros, which was quite a bit more than the trip to the airport. 

RyanAir offers amazingly low fares all around Europe (5 Euros RT to Gdansk!), but their business model is like any other "low cost" airline.  They charge extra for EVERY DAMN THING, and too bad if you didn't know about any given charge.  For example, we were charged because we did not check in online at least two hours prior to departure.  Rather than online check-in being recommended, with RyanAir it is required.  This lack of knowledge essentially doubled our ticket price.  Not printing your boarding pass before arriving at the airport will cost you 15 Euro per ticket. They also charge for every checked bag, while ONE carry-on bag is free.  This seems entirely backward to me, since it seemed like few people checked baggage and everyone had carry-on baggage.  So everyone is fighting tooth and nail for space in the cabin, while the bottom of the plane must have been relatively empty. 

We found the desk agents to be somewhat rude and unhelpful.  Luckily, the flight attendants were the opposite. 

Arriving in the Ciampino airport in Rome (again, a minor airport), we were fortunate to have been told by the gentleman from whom we had rented an apartment in Rome how much we should pay for a taxi to his place.  The drivers in the taxi line started with an amount that was almost double what Marco had said.  Since I knew going in what it should be, I was confident in insisting on the amount he had suggested (30 Euros to Marco's apartment).  The drivers tried very hard to insist that this was an unreasonable fare, but I held firm.  I try not to read sexism into too many situations, but since the taxi drivers accepted Sterling saying the very same amount, without argument, I'm not sure what other conclusion one could have.  At any rate, you should always try to get the amount before you get in.  If they are running the meter, it's helpful if you have at least a general knowledge of the city layout and a Google maps estimate of how long the trip should take. 

Marco's apartment is literally around the corner from the Colosseum and the Forum, so we could see quite a bit by just crossing the street.  Rome is actually not a bad city to walk to where you want to go, but with two kids in tow, it was easier to go by taxi and Uber.  We did discover that Uber apparently only has the right to run their "Black" or high-end service.  For the one Uber ride we did, we paid quite a bit more (18 Euro) for a ride to the Trevi Fountain area than it cost for a taxi ride back (about 8 Euro).  The Uber ride was a Mercedes, but a rather low-end station wagon version.  So it's really not worth the extra amount for Uber rides in Rome.  I'm assuming that this was a concession to taxi drivers.

Taxis are plentiful in Rome, especially near the popular sites, and easy to identify (white - anything else is not a legal taxi).  All the drivers we had knew the city well and had no problem finding any address. 

A great way to see any city is on a double-decker tourist bus.  Most major cities have them now, and usually several competing companies, which helps keep the cost low.  You can get on and off as much as desired for the time period purchased.  They provide you with a running commentary via earphones, and in almost any language you can imagine.  We chose to take the Big Bus at 30 Euro each for 24 hours, and another 5 Euro for another day for Kris and I.  The kids were free, as they were everywhere we went (most venues charge only for kids six and up).  This may seem like a bit much, but you can ride it as much as you want during operating hours and taxi rides to the various locations would end up being well over that.  What I really like about it, if you have the time, is that you can ride one circuit (the Rome circuit takes about two and a half hours) and get an overview of the city.  Then you can go back - either that same day, and/or the next day and get off at the places that interested you the most.  If the weather is good, as we were lucky enough to have, you can ride in the upper open area.  If you're not that lucky, you can sit downstairs in the enclosed area.

Our final taxi ride out of Rome ended up being a bit more than our ride in, because we needed to stop at a pharmacy.  It added about 10 Euro to the fare.  However, none of the few pharmacies in the area of Marco's apartment opened until 4 pm.   

As we figured all these arrangements out, I couldn't help reflecting on how different my travel life is now, as opposed to my days as an Event Manager at Nature's Sunshine.  With Nature's, not only did I stay at 5 star hotels, I was always met at the airport and driven around by a local destination management company.  Now I have to actually figure stuff out.  It makes me laugh a little, but at the same time, travel feels a little more real to me.  Of course, that may also be because now I have to actually pay for it. 

Sigh.  Oh well.

 

Traveling Internationally with the Littles

I have to confess that when I volunteered to fly to Poland with Kris and the kids (due to the fact that Sterling was going over a bit earlier, and I thought it would be too hard for Kris to do on her own), I was a bit apprehensive about traveling with a five year old and a two year old.  I hate those long distance flights myself (especially in coach), so I couldn't imagine how in the world Atti and Zoe would cope with it. 

It turns out that they handled the long flight from SLC to Paris pretty darned well.  The rest of the trip ... let's just say everyone ended up being pretty stressed and sleep deprived. 

First, let me offer a tip for anyone flying with young children, car seats, a stroller and nine suitcases to an international location: curbside check-in is absolutely the only sane way to do it.  For the price of a tip (per bag), you unload your vehicle (in our case, the big SUV of Sterling's brother Andrew, who was a god-send), and give it all over immediately to the sky caps. They also print your boarding passes, so you can proceed straight to the security line.  Getting through the security line with two little kids, three carryon suitcases, a backpack, a tote and a suitcase was probably the worst thing about traveling with young ones. 

Once aboard the plane, we lucked out and got an extra seat along with our four.  This enabled Atti and Zoe to be able to stretch out and sleep for a bit.  As for me, I never can sleep on those long overnight flights anyway (even with chemical help), so I watched a few movies.  One was "Everest."  All I can say is that if I EVER profess a desire to climb Mt. Everest, I sincerely hope someone will prove their devotion to me and slap me up the side of the head.  Spoiler alert: a good number of the climbers ended up dying.  Those who didn't lost significant parts of their bodies. 

We arrived in Paris at about 10:30 in the morning, and our flight to Warsaw wasn't until 7:30 p.m., so we thought we could make our way into the city and see something of Paris. Note: if you have two small kids who are sleep-deprived and grumpy, all fore-mentioned carryon bags and stroller, please do yourself a favor and don't think you have enough time to go into Paris, even if you do have an eight hour layover.  If it's also raining, your chances of completing this in any kind of happy or even a half-way sane way is pretty much cut in half.  If you're dealing with the Charles de Gaulle airport, it's essentially zero.  The only way to do this is to NOT take the train, but rather to get a taxi and save yourself a great deal of walking and headaches. 

If you decide to go ahead with the madness of going into the city by train, you should first leave absolutely everything possible at the Bagages du Monde, located across from the Sheraton at the airport.  It will cost 7 Euro per bag, and you need to have all items you want from the bags out and all items you want to leave in the bags in (they will not accept loose items) before you even approach the clerk.  And no, they will not be sympathetic just because you have crying babies. 

The next thing to be aware of is that the train ticket kiosk and the vending machines in that area will not accept paper Euros.  You must use either coins or a credit card.  If you don't place the train ticket into the turn-styles in exactly the right way, it will invalidate the ticket.  So look at the ticket carefully and feed it in the right way, and so what if there's a crush of impatient people behind you? 

Our goal - and one we thought was quite modest - was simply to visit ONE site (the Notre Dame), and have a nice lunch.  We did accomplish having a nice lunch.  It's one of the things I love best about traveling - to wander among little cafes and choose one based on nothing really.  Maybe you think it's cute, or one of the menu board items sounds good (if you can understand what you're reading), or someone dining outside is eating something that looks great.  I have very rarely been disappointed by choosing this way and ordering as simply as possible.  We all shared a mozzarella salad, bread and French onion soup, and it was just right. 

Walking with two increasingly tired and grumpy kids and trying to find Notre Dame - not so successful.  When it started to pour, we gave up and called for an Uber ride back to the airport. 

If that had been the end of our Paris story, it would have been a mildly frustrating and eventually funny story.  However, the worst was yet to come.

The Charles De Gaulle airport, part 2.

I have flown into CDG several times and I feel that I've given it every chance.  I truly do.  But with the exception of my first trip to Paris (because someone was totally taking care of every detail), I have yet to have a positive experience there.  One of my favorite stories: I was connecting through CDG with an extremely short connecting time (lesson learned).  The flight attendants were very solicitous about the situation and brought me to the front of the plane so that I could get off first.  I thought, great!  They are really going to handle this!  And I WAS the first one off the plane.  They put me on a shuttle ... where we proceeded to wait for all the other passengers to disembark.  And I was at the back of the shuttle since I was the first one on, so that when we at last reached the terminal, I was among the last people to get off. 

Anyway, enough about CDG, except to say that almost everyone we dealt with was rude and/or condescending.  There were several more instances, but basically they all boiled down to that.  I hope one day to have a positive experience there, for I love Paris too much to not go back.  Maybe I should go by train next time. 
      
The rest of our trip to Warsaw was pretty uneventful, other than the fact that our carry-ons ended up scattered throughout the airplane, so Atti and I ended up being the very last ones off. 

One of the best things about the journey was that by the time we arrived at the Parker's "flat" in Warsaw, it was time to go to bed.  I usually adjust to time zone changes fairly easily, and I believe that partly it's because I have one hard-and-fast rule: always get yourself on the local schedule as soon as possible.  Often flights from the US arrive at the final European destination in the morning, and after a long often sleepless night, people are severely tempted to take a nap right away.  Don't do it!  Do whatever you have to do to stay awake until it's bedtime in your new location. 

At any rate, we all arrived in one piece.  Traveling with small children is definitely a challenge, but it's doable.