Leaving Las Vegas... I mean, New York

Franz Kafka once wrote about Prague that the city is a mother with claws, trying everything to prevent you from leaving. Sometimes I feel like New York is similar. Departing can be complicated, especially if the subway is not running and, after swiping your card and losing $5, you are informed that the Airtrain has a problem and is not running either. The MTA solution: a bus. Wasn't this the way it used to be? Well, not totally, because the bus driver did not know his way and could not give any information about the gates. The only word he could say was 'eirepurt' (in case you don't understand: airport). In any case, I was lucky because he stopped at the Air France/Korean Air/Alitalia gate and I did not miss my plane. I am not so sure about some other passengers who were already very stressed out about it. (Tourists, I have to add. Real New Yorkers are stressoholics and need adrenalin.)
I actually love Air France. Even if hardly anyone speaks proper English, the food is good, they planes are nice, you have games and movies on demand, there are normally no delays etc. And even better when you try to call the hotline: Instead of having an answering machine asking you to press 'one for soandso' and 'two for soandso' until you give up, you have a human being on the line. Yes, this still exists.
The only problem of my flight: I was sitting behind a little boy who was crying most of the flight. Very impressive. Try to make a monotonous sound for eight hours! And even more impressive the parents you managed to ignore him for near the same amount of time.
Well, to make a long story short: No sleep till Brooklyn... I mean Paris. So I made the best out of it. I enjoyed my French meal, had Bordeaux wine and watched Sideways. Maybe it was the Bordeaux instead of the Pinot, but I think this movie was totally over-rated. A nice movie, but definitely not the hype that was made out of it. I think as soon as an American movie is a little bit slower, it is seen as art. But compared to so many French, Italian, German etc movies, it was just very mediocre.
In Paris my arrival was smooth, or let's say nearly smooth. While there was a long line for foreign passports, there were hardly any people at the EU passport counter. Hasta la vista, Amis! Since the gate was not determined when I left JFK, I had to ask for my gate to Dusseldorf. The Air France employee told me in English 65, while mumbling in French 55. Well, I trusted her English and went to gate 55, went to the newsstand where they provide free papers (again: I love Air France) and took El Pais, a Spanish daily and in my opinion one of the best papers in the world.
After a while I looked around me and realized that there were no Germans at the gate. More than that, there were no German papers. I looked at the gate display and read 'Madrid.' Madrid!? I asked another Air France employee and yes, it was the wrong gate. It was, of course, 55. And the boarding already started!
Did I mention Kafka and Prague. I think Paris is similar. It also does not want you to leave. But anyway, I made it and got my plane to Dusseldorf.
To be continued...