In which we dream of flying

Paris, as everyone knows, is served by the Aeroport Charles de Gaulle, a massive airport over to the northeast of the city, and also by Orly, which is in the south of the city. But both of these airports are relatively new, and it you have read French fiction of the appropriate era, you have perhaps noticed that the airport that is referred to is not either of these, but rather Le Bourget. Le Bourget is no longer used for commercial flights, but has, instead, been converted into a museum, the Musée de l'Air et de l'Espace, which is, alas, located well outside the limits of the city, a train and bus ride away from our apartment. But, since Blaise was in Pisa, and since Ezio and Cherry had fond memories of our trip there three years ago, and since Sapphire had never been (she was at camp the last time we were there), we decided to head up to the "Airplane Museum," as Cherry called it, for the day.

One of the things that has amazed me on both of our treks to the museum is how empty it is. Not, mind you, empty of things that fly, of which there are many, from hot air balloons (used during the Siege of Paris in 1871) and dirigibles (admittedly scale models) and early gliders, including those of Otto Lilienthal, to Concordes (plural) and rockets and fighter jets and helicopters; but empty of people. The museum is enormous, hangers and hangers of airplanes of all eras, and yet strangely quiet, with few people wandering through its massive rooms, despite the fact that the museum is free, unless of course you want to actually go into some of the airplanes, or see a planetarium show or something like that.

We, of course, sprang for the airplane ticket, and so we started our exploration by going onto a massive Boeing 747 and heading up to the lounge area at the top of the plane. ("Wouldn't that have been a dangerous place to ride?" wondered Cherry, "There aren't any seat belts up here." Well, yes, it would have been somewhat more dangerous, but I doubt that anyone was allowed up there for takeoff and landing, given the lack of seat belts.) Then down, through the middle part of the plane, where the kids got to test out the airplane seats, and noted that the little cup holders that folded off the back of the tray tables were very convenient. Past where we could see the different layers of an airplane seat. Down the stairs (which are not, I think, a part of active 747s) and into the cargo bay where we saw suitcases and pet carriers and a car, because really the only way to appreciate the size of these things is by seeing a car trussed up for transport in the cargo hold.

We climbed aboard a Dakota and pretended we were going to parachute out. We walked through two Concordes, placed end to end, and noticed how very cramped they seemed to be. We explored a hall of helicopters and autogyros. We learned about the French nuclear weapon program. We saw the airplanes of WWI ace pilots and marveled that anyone would have been willing to go up in them. We did not, alas, get to see the Olympic gliders (yes, gliding was an exhibition sport in 1936) from the era between the world wars because the room was closed for renovation. I'm not sure that Sapphire believes that such a sport actually existed, but no matter.

Eventually, we realized that if we were going to make it back to Paris for 6:30 mass, we should probably move on, and so we headed out of the museum. As we were crossing the street to the bus stop, we heard a roar, which got louder and louder and louder until an airplane shot straight up from behind the museum and raced into the the sky, and so we stood there and watched the pilot practicing for the Paris Air Show, which is being held this week, until it became clear that if we didn't leave then we would definitely be late for mass, and so we hurried to catch the bus and headed back to Paris.