First leg

Day 0.5
Got to Tulla on time just to wait for the plane being late due to "... engineers found wrong air (or no air) and had to replace the unit" a great explanation and a great job they did as the plane was full of air allowing us to breathe.
Our seats were just at the gully so we got all the commotion and smells, at least it kept us awake on the 7-hour "lift to the bus stop" flight to Singapore.Late here, late there and Singapore became a blur jog jog, run jog run...On the flight from Singapore we had back of the plane seats which meant that it was quite rough but to compensate - very noisy.
Just after boarding we knew we were on Air France. Within the first half an hour the attendant had an argument with one of the passengers and stormed off puffing, leaving the food trolley behind. On Aussie sheila, sitting just in front of me attempted to pick a can of beer from the trolley just as the harpy returned, grabbed the can off the aussie and stormed off again, this time waving her hands in the air.See, I said to Lisa, you Aussies call us rude, we are only efficient - that's all. You know how much time one can save dispatching with meaningless smiles, and chit-chat!!!
After a 13 hour long night, we eventually made it to Paris... For some strange reason meal times were perfectly timed with turbulence, or railway crossings, don't really know, but drinking cups of coffee with the liquid at 45 degrees to horizontal is quite an experience.Beautiful scenery on descent. Villages, fields, patches of 4:30am fog along rivers and in groves - quite magical really.
Transferring between the terminals was a very French experience. The documents were checked 5 times, often by guys just standing in the middle of a walkway, and for no apparent reason at all. A blank, expressionless stare is French for "Yes, I will be happy to see your documents now".
Imagine this: A thick yellow line across a corridor with a friendly red STOP painted on it, you stopped politely at the line, 3 or 4 officials locked in glass boxes 3 metres in front of you, and 2 of them sitting motionless, starring at you. (For an explanation of the blank stare, see the previous sentence.)

Quick observations.
1. If you don't speak French the help comes in the form of a tongue-click and an eye-roll. Very efficient and considering that they probably think that you must be English, Australian or American - completely justified.
2. You have to pay for the Internet at the Airport - very uncivilised (It's half price of the Oz charge, but still...)
3. Clochards are still considered a part of the ambience of Paris. I spotted one living out of a small camp site he set up in the middle of the international terminal at CDG. The cops and general public walk quietly around his little campsite with food all around, a single bed base etc. Unthinkable in Oz, having homeless camp at the airport - viva la France! Very Civilised.
4. Viva la bureaucracy!!! The French seem to love checking passports. Visualise a 50m long, enclosed corridor with no doors or windows, ending with a staircase to the tarmac... are you done imaging yet? good. Now there is someone checking your passport at the beginning of that corridor, at the top of the staircase and at the bottom of the staircase as well. When I asked politely "What?! Passport?!? Again?!?" The answer was "Oui monsieur, pas problem, votre passport! So there! If you were planning to cheat by materialising out of think air half way through a corridor - forget it, the French are onto them tricks!
5. The customs speak is simple and not open to interpretation. "shoos" means: Could you please take off your shoes. "shoos shoos" means: Could you please pick up your shoes and hand them to me for closer inspection. See, it's all about efficiency.
6. The French have female pilots on international flights - very civilised!

A disclaimer. If it seems as if I am postulating that the French should learn English - it seems incorrectly. I do believe that I should have learned more French, but reserve the right to be a narrow minded moron and make fun of people who speak English much better than I speak French... oh! you know what I mean. Every person whom I greeted with: Bonjour, je ne parle pas francais followed by a look straight in their eyes and a smile, was very helpful and lovely (apart from the shoos-shoos guy)
TBC