When this particular trip my mother and I have been on was laid out, in all of its ambitious glory, this was the day I had marked in my own mind as being the most critical and also the most potentially troublesome, largely for reasons that will make itself clear in the narrative. And as my mother is sawing logs besides me as I type this out and I am about to go to sleep in our hotel in Cagliari after a satisfying trip, the fact that it felt like an episode of the Amazing Race is not entirely inappropriate, nor necessarily a bad thing. It is, admittedly, not the ideal way I like to travel, but it can be done properly, and today provides an example of that.

As far as a busy and long travel day is concerned, this one began easily enough. I woke up, did some writing, and had a leisurely breakfast while my mom drank some tea. Instead of the two croissants and what looked like a donut hole, I swapped out the dough for a madeleine, and got two bottles of water instead of a tropical fruit juice, which overall was a positive change. After a bit of waiting and the taxi driver getting a correct understanding of our schedule, we were on our way to the airport in Ajaccio, where we had to wait some time for the EasyJet check-in to open, and then wait a little while at the handicap area, where someone in a wheelchair was vaping away–the people in Ajaccio in general are the biggest smokers I have seen in some time, despite the constant airport announcements that smoking is not permitted in the terminal that are so routinely ignored.

As far as airports go, Ajaccio is a pretty relaxing one, even if the handicap assistance puts on a punishing pace when it comes to walking. We were up on the ramp and into the plane right on time for our departure to Charles de Gaulle International Airport, and our arrival there was also a bit early, which was all well and good. We had to wait a bit because of problems with the mechanical system for the gate, but within half an hour of landing we had my mom’s suitcase and were on the way to the taxi, which was not a bad start to the 3 hour layover we had between flights.

Normally, I would not comment on a three hour layover between flights, because such conditions are normal and everyday. But this layover was a bit different because we arrived in one Paris airport and had a flight scheduled to depart three hours later from a different Paris airport, this one Paris Orly, located in a different part of the city. According to the Easyjet website, there was supposed to be a bus that took one from one airport to another for a reasonable fee, but according to the flamboyant purser in our first flight, this had been discontinued and the options were either a subway trip that involved changing stations and some hiking–which was out of the question–or taking a taxi and hoping for the best when it came to traffic, which being the only reasonable option was the one we took.

Considering that we spent about an hour and a half in that traffic winding our way on highways from one airport to another, being passed by untold police cars and ambulances and being stuck in some horrific traffic, it is perhaps obvious to say that the drive did not go very well. At the very least, we did not miss our flight, but as soon as we arrived in the airport it was time to check in, and once we got to the mobility assistance area and my mother took a rest stop it was time for us to be through security and to the gate and then on the plane without any stopping along the way. Then, once we arrived in Cagliari, our luggage was the last one remaining from our flight before we had to go on another taxi to arrive at our hotel, which ended up requiring some sort of door code and having our keys open up, none of which had been properly formatted in their e-mail to us, but which we eventually sorted out, only to have dinner (review forthcoming) and then get to sleep after a hectic but ultimately successful day.