Just as with Paris itself, the horrible reviews and stories I’ve read about Charles de Gaulle airport seemed completely unfounded. Of course, I had an EU flight on an early Sunday morning. I’m sure other times are more hectic, with more crazies about…

It was really easy to get to the airport… the subway (RER, rather) goes right to the terminal. Not bad. Of course, the train only runs til 1:00 AM or so… which is the reason I decided to spend the night in the airport.

If you search airline reviews for Charles de Gaulle, you will find a lot of angry, frightened, exasperated people who had trouble communicating, missed their flights, couldn’t find or read the signs, and on and on and on. A big theme I saw over and over again (the only thing that made me a little nervous) was the number of homeless people who come to Charles de Gaulle to sleep, hustle, or just hang out.

My flight was from terminal 1, with Lufthansa to Milan. In most other airports, Lufthansa would allow me to check my bag the night before. Not at Charles de Gaulle. But it wasn’t that big a deal. I arrived fairly exhausted and didn’t really want to explore very much. I did talk a walk around the terminal… there wasn’t much at that level, so I went downstairs where I had seen mention of a food court. I ate two of my sandwiches, but I was still very hungry. I was mostly running on adrenaline.

So I tried out French McDonalds. Ordered a large fry and small coffee. This was my first trip to McDonalds in Europe, so I was mildly surprised (but not much) with the herb sauce in lieu of ketchup. I was VERY surprised that my “small” coffee was the size of an American espresso. I felt a bit ripped off for my 5 euros or so.. but live and learn.

The free McDonalds wifi I had read about apparently did not exist, either. There were a couple connections available, but they wanted to charge or just wouldn’t connect at all. So I walked around a bit, looking for a place to be comfortable. This level seemed more welcoming than the one I was flying out of, so I found a seat there.

As the night went on, I discovered that several other Americans had decided to spend the night there. Well, Americans and a Mexican and a Palestinian, both with American accents. A few people were likely homeless people, but they were quiet and didn’t harrass me, or even ask for cigarettes. But most of them were genuine travelers. There was a really fun group of girls who I didn’t talk to, but who made me homesick with their Arkansas accents. They were a little rowdy, so I eventually headed back upstairs to see what things were like after 10 there.

I found several people conked out here, as well as one crazy lady who was barefoot, in a skirt, dancing around like a ballerina. She gestured widely with her arms like an actress and kept saying something in French about acting. She obviously believed she was on stage. She was in her own little world, not really interacting with anyone or asking for anything, but I thought it best to steer clear of her.

I found a place to get a few winks, just leaning in my chair. Then I woke up so stiff I thought I might never walk again. I took a walk to get the kinks out (whenever I mention walking in CDG I was using one of the free luggage carts, shuffling along, probably looking like some bag lady) and felt a little bit better. This process went on throughout the night, and indeed throughout the entire experience until Frankfurt’s luxurious reclining seats. It seems I overdid it walking through Paris.

My only bad experience at CDG was in the morning when the Lufthansa counter finally opened. I was about 3 pounds overweight, because apparently International doesn’t always mean International. EU is NOT international… which means you get 20 kilograms instead of 23 or somesuch. So I had to readjust my luggage, put on all my shirts and jackets. Quite silly, because I was underweight on my carryon, and I just put most things in there. So I had all the same stuff, just in different places.

Once you get through security, the waiting room is quite luxurious, especially if you have European plugs for your electronics – and have 3 euros to spend on a bottle of soda. I didn’t, unfortunately, and could only use my laptop in short spurts to try to get Internet. There was an Internet kiosk in the secured waiting area, which I used to tweet where I was. Moments later I was whisked on to my first flight of 3.

Coming up: Lufthansa flight to Milan