Goodbye Israel, Hello France

... or how to (nearly) miss a plane. With a late flight out, our final day in Israel was a nice leisurely one. Gil and Mira had organised for us to go to a show called the Jerusalem Time Elevator which describes Jerusalem's history (in a 60s Hollywood-style way), using impressive surround screens and with the seats mounted on a platform which moves and shakes in unison with the film. Interesting in its own way, though we felt we'd got far more out of the two guided tours which we'd done a few days earlier.

Gil then took us for a scenic drive around some parts of the city which we hadn't really seen before, and that was great. Until we first came here, we hadn't realised just how hilly the place is, but it's built on what is really rugged terrain. We then grabbed some lunch and headed back to their place for our least favourite job, packing.

Gil and Mira got us to the airport nice and early, and we said our fond goodbyes. Hopefully we'll see them again sometime soon, maybe in Brisbane. Even after we'd waited in long queues and been through security checks (though not as rigorous as the one which a swarthy-skinned young man standing near us had to endure). The girl at check-in told us that we'd be at Departure Gate C2, and even though it was already printed on the ticket, she kindly circled the number for us. Maybe she thought that we were old and doddery. Reaching the departure hall, we double-checked the departure gate on the screen then headed for C2. It was fairly quiet there, with only about 40-50 people waiting, so we thought that for once we'd be on a nice empty flight for the nearly five hour trip to Lyon, our next port of call.

As the boarding time drew near with no announcements being made, Brian decided to wander up to the desk, only to find that the screen there was showing an entirely different flight number, which was going to Zagreb, Nobody was behind the counter, so we approached an airport employee who had been working there at the departure counter but who now appeared to be on a break nearby. He immediately told us that the flight had been moved to Gate B1, some distance away, so off we ran in a bit of a panic. Reaching there, we discovered that that gate was handling an entirely different flight to some other destination. We don't know whether the man who'd given us the wrong information was stupid or had misinformed us deliberately. Furthermore, none of the display screen seemed to be listing our flight.

By this stage, it was close to the scheduled departure time and we were seriously worried that maybe, somehow, we'd completely missed our flight. Eventually, we found a screen listing our flight as departing from Gate C3, right next to where we'd been waiting in the first place. The flight had started to board, but fortunately it was running several minutes late, and we were OK. So how did everyone else know about the change? We certainly hadn't heard anything. We concluded that the announcements had probably been made in Hebrew and French only and, judging by the look of our fellow passengers that would have covered pretty much everyone except us. Anyway, we got on board safely and even though it was a budget airline (Transavia), it was pleasant enough flight. As the Israelis do so many things well, we prefer instead to blame the airline for the display of total incompetence.

We duly landed in Lyon at around 1am, and got quite a surprise at the cool night temperature. After the past couple of weeks the 12 degrees felt quite cold. At 1am, there isn't a lot happening at St Exupery airport. The terminal is deserted, all the workers are tucked up in their beds, the buses and trains aren't running and there's nobody at the Information counter. Our only choice therefore for getting to our hotel was a very expensive taxi ride. Fortunately at least, the driver was very friendly and even allowed Brian to practise his schoolboy French on him. We were certainly very happy to check in to our hotel, unpack and hit the sack.Read more