“Just so you know, I think you’re totally insane for wanting to do this.”
That was my husband’s reaction as I lay out my plan for my journey back to Canada with our daughters.
But let me back up a bit. As you now know, our idea to repatriate started last year, so we slowly started putting the pieces in place. Our first big hurdle was our house in France. We knew that when we got to Canada, we had a place to land, because we still had the house that we bought before we were married. But it would just be temporary until we settled in, then we’d buy a family home. With that in mind, we decided we’d sell our house in France but that was no easy task while living in Congo.
After our Christmas trip to Russia, the kids went with my husband back to school in Congo, and I headed straight to France since we were already in Europe. I had two weeks to sell a car, everything electronic in the house, pack the house into a sea-container and sign off the papers with the lawyer….all in French. My head was spinning, but I got it done and was feeling a bit superheroesque.
Several months later when the time came to move from Congo, we would be going with checked luggage only. Everything: the kids’ sports equipment, kitchen stuff, pictures on the walls, toys, stuffed animals, books, clothes, shoes etc. It would all be coming with us on the plane. There was A LOT of our house left behind, but there couldn’t be a place that needed it more than Congo. We took the things we were attached to and left the rest. My husband would travel with his golf clubs, and three suitcases.
My portion was 11 suitcases, 2 car seats, 3 overweight carry on suitcases and 3 backpacks. Because we had more people, we had more baggage allowance and it needed to be divided that way since each extra bag from Congo to Paris is 300€, that REALLY adds up!
“And you want to stop in Paris with all that?” he asked me again. “How are you going to manage that?”
I decided that, like in past moves, I would just move the five carts little by little and hope that possibly, the kindness of strangers might prevail. I planned on lining up the carts and moving each one a few meters at a time until I got where I needed to go. Logistically it seemed fine until I thought about having to get into an elevator. There was no way I could fit 5 trolleys plus myself and two kids into the elevator.
Turning to my friends online(that’s you), I asked if anyone knew of a company that could help me out.
Low and behold, Eelway was presented. Apparently they collected luggage at Charles de Gualle airport in Paris and delivered it where ever you wanted: into the city, to Orly airport in Paris, the train station, or in my case, back to CDG a week later. It sounded too good to be true, so I called them to be sure. They spoke perfect English. We were off to a great start.
I found out that not only could they take my luggage, but they could get it right off the belt!!! All 13 pieces!
I felt a small wave of doubt, but if this worked, it would be a lifesaver for me on this trip. I did the organizing ahead of time, and signed a waver stating that I authorized them to take my luggage(which they insured) through customs.
Amazing.
Back in Pointe Noire, the expat sisterhood was going strong right until the very end. Three expat sisters sent their SUVs to caravan me and all my luggage to the airport.
The goodbyes weren’t easy.
And it took a village to get me through the door.
As the good byes continued, I was getting weepy and had to resort to the old “indoor sunglasses” trick as we did our final Congo photo with all of our luggage in tow.
I was ready to take on the journey.
We moved on through the airport and our luggage took over the departure area. We were turning heads but luckily, as you can see in the photo, people were helping me push the carts along.
Very sadly, I was told I couldn’t carry on my drum and I didn’t want to pay ANOTHER 300€ for an extra item, so I scurried back through security and literally threw it at my husband who was waiting on the other side of the gate until we were in the clear…because, Congo.
So, I was down a drum, but it might have been for the best, because I was struggling with the carry on baggage that I had as it was.
As my bags were tagged, I snapped a quick photo of each ticket and sent off an email to Eelway, so they could confirm they were picking up the right bags in Paris.
And with that, we were off.
8+ overnight hours later, we arrived in Paris.
Nothing felt more strange than walking out of the airport WITHOUT my 13 pieces of luggage. But in this case, ‘strange’ felt pretty damn good!
A couple hours later I had an email from Eelway in my inbox confirming that my bags were collected and tucked away. I had a tracking number to keep my eye on them, but I was happy they were out of sight for awhile.
We were staying for a week with my friend Sharon who is one of my VERY first expat sisters from when I moved to Paris after leaving Canada. The first time I ever left my 1st born, was when I flew up to Paris from Pau for her birthday, and last year she came with her daughter to visit us in Congo! Our first and only visitor during our two years there. Side note: If you’re in Paris and looking for an amazing yoga instructor, Sharon Bale’s Yoga is where it’s at.
We had an amazing week in Paris, and the girls couldn’t wait to retrace the steps of their ‘Kids Who Travel the World’ book.
We met up with our Dutch neighbours from Congo, who now live in Paris.
Climbed the stairs of the Tour Eiffel…
And soaked up all the beauty of one of my favourite places in the world.
Then if was time to face the reality of the 13 pieces of luggage that waited for me. I needed to get myself, my kids, and all those bags to Canada.
Since we had an early flight the next day, I arranged for us to stay the night at an airport hotel. By the time I got there(an hour later than I said), Eelway had already delivered all 13 items safely. The suitcases were waiting for me in our room and I took the hotel’s word that the bins were in their luggage storage room.
Sure enough, at 5am the next day, I was reunited with my bins and carseats.
Sharing the luggage burden with a storage company was one of the best decisions I made, but they’d done their part. I was on my own for the rest of the journey. Their earliest delivery time to the airport was 7am, which was why I had them deliver to the hotel the night before.
So, at 5am, I ordered two taxi vans to take us to the airport.
Hot tip: If you’re not accompanying your luggage because you have too much for one taxi, take a picture of the taxi’s license plate, just to be safe.
Luckily our taxis were great and earned a hefty tip by loading all of the items onto 5 carts at our gate.
Now my work began.
The girls were given notebooks to doodle, and instructed to be “sage comme une image” (aka best behaviour) as I wheeled the carts into the airport one or two at a time.
It’s fair to say we made a scene.
It took me the better part of an hour to check in the bags and then transport the oversized items to the other side of the airport. The girls have gotten pretty good at entertaining themselves in airports over the years.
And thankfully I had the help of the Air France staff/babysitting service.
It was a long haul and my arms had the workout of their lives. But we flew to Amsterdam, caught another almost 9 hour flight, and landed happily in the arms of our family. Thank God for Grandparents, cause I need a rest.
Now jet lag, well, that’s a whole other story!