Why are we landing in Paris?
JET LAG
I'm calling from Paris.
Nothing, I'm not staying here.
Besides, it's a madhouse as usual: strikes, school vacation...
I'm going to Munich, but the weather's bad.
No, it wasn't planned. Nadia's grandmother died.
That's beside the point. I was fond of her grandma.
Departure times are undetermined.
You must have some idea when.
Not with the strike.
- What strike? - Public utilities,
now the air-traffic controllers. It's vacation!
French Rail is joining in.
Aisle or window?
The trains are on strike, too?
No aisle seats.
It's a disaster!
- Or in the last row. - A window's fine.
The trains, you sure?
Your ticket and baggage check.
Hang on.
You still there?
C'mon, it's not that far! I'll pay your cab fare to mother's.
Have the taxi wait, go upstairs.
The letter's on the nightstand.
By the phone, an envelope marked Sergio.
Take it and run.
You have the door code?
Write it down:
36 B 48. Can you hear me?
No, B as in...
Oh, shit!
This can't be happening.
Be tough. Gloria McKornick will be there.
No, the pain-in-the-ass "food engineer."
The one who killed our Shepherd's Pie...
She's a menace. All she likes is Chicken Bechamel.
And Bruno, it's uptown this time.
On their turf, not ours.
Would you mind? Just for a local call.
I lost mine and the phone booths are all...
It's really urgent. You don't mind?
Write this down: 36 B 48.
Right, B as in Bernard.
Sure, she'll give them to you.
No, you know how she is. I'm not up to calling her now.
Whatever! That you're borrowing a dress, my leg waxer...
Do it now. Promise! With the strike he'll come home and find the letter.
I let it all out. I say goodbye...
Stop it! I'm with...
I'm not scared, but if he shows up here, I'm afraid I might...
I'm stuck, everything's held up.
There are no planes taking off. Hurry!
There's coffee. Care for a coffee?
Mind if I have a coffee?
- My cell phone? - Sorry.
Not even a glass of water?
Are you Rose? It's for you.
Sorry, the number must've registered.
I'll just be a minute.
Mom?
How'd you get the number? She shouldn't have.
I'm not at the beauty parlor today. I'll explain later.
You didn't do that?!
How many did you take?
How many are left? The box was full?
Then it's not too serious.
No, nothing else! Not even aspirin. You'll sleep tonight.
I can't right now.
I can't come over now. Not today, Mom.
No little massage today.
Sure, I love you.
Give my key to Sabine.
Of course
I'm still your little girl. Wherever I am, wherever you are.
Of course. Lots of love...
That was really sweet of you.
Are you okay?
What's wrong?
In my bag. There.
The pills in my bag.
You'll be all right.
- A problem? - I don't know.
Sit down.
I'll call a doctor.
I'll massage you, it'll help. Just relax.
Don't touch me.
Everything's normal.
This is the wrong medicine. Who gave you this?
A friend, in New York. I couldn't find a doctor.
Are you arriving or leaving?
- You taking a plane? - I hope so.
Stop by the drugstore.
It's a sedative.
Only if the symptoms recur.
You mean if my heart beats fast?
- Not fast, hard. - There a difference?
Fast is here. Hard is here.
Think I enjoy fainting?
Relax. There's no physical disorder.
If you feel faint, put your feet up.
- Feeling better? - Fine, just fine.
- What'd he say? - Nothing.
I wanted to return your...
If I can do anything...
Everything's fine, thanks.
- Goodbye. - I wanted to tell you...
Go easy on those pills. It's habit-forming and...
And... while you were...
No, nothing.
Goodbye.
Nadia?
3 p.m., I know, I haven't forgotten but thank you, I mean...
I know it...
What message?
No, I didn't get any messages.
Hang on, someone's trying to call.
Sabine who?
Rose who?
No, Rose isn't here!
I don't know. How should l?
What?
Repeat that.
Sergio? Who's Sergio?
I've had enough. I can't help you. I'm taking a plane.
I'm sorry, but...
That's right. Goodbye, ma'am.
Hello?? Nadia??
Hello?? Shit...
- It's tiring. I'm stressed out. - Are you?
You have to understand me.
We'll take a vacation.
We need a month off together.
Wherever you want. You decide where.
I put in for vacation.
It's just to say, Sergio's on his way. Apparently in a rage,
out of control.
Your friend said to warn you. Sabine...
That's her name, right?
I think she ran into him at your place.
She says he's dangerous.
Meet Sergio.
I'm sorry, I don't...
Felix. Felix Doumergue.
This'll teach me a lesson.
- Sorry, that was dumb of me. - Who's he?
Nobody. Tell him.
We're total strangers.
Sit down, have a drink.
Sit down!
What'll it be?
Lemon soda.
- Let me explain... - Don't bother.
Let him!
I have a flight, sorry.
I'll explain, then.
See this woman? Look at her.
At first glance she's not bad: dressed up, perfumed, a real doll.
I'll come home, Sergio.
Shut up, bitch!
You don't know her? Let me tell you.
She's a bitch. A slut.
A rotten liar, a chicken.
You're pathetic.
And that bitch, your friend Sabine,
always butting in.
What crap did you tell her?
Stop it! I said I'd come home.
Sure, you will! You never had the balls to split.
Listen...
You'll see.
The best day of my life is when I had you abort.
- Son of a bitch! - What?
Fuck off, bitch! I'd croak before I'd have your child.
Scram, you lousy slut!
My God! Are you hurt?
Beat it. What're you doing?
Here. You're bleeding.
Sir? Wake up, Sir. You must exit the plane.
We back in Paris?
You never left, sir.
A computer failure. All planes are grounded.
First class passengers are being put up at the Hilton.
Duck a l'orange is different!
Shepherd's Pie needs foil containers. I told you a hundred times.
Did you get Marsha Lipton? Insist! She's a star in the mid-west.
No, I can't get out of this goddam country.
Nothing works here: planes, trains, computers...
Except sleeping pills. And vacations.
They're overtaxed, unemployed, at war... And they go on vacation!
I'm spending the night.
Call you tomorrow.
I don't know. I gotta be in Munich by 3.
No, 3 p.m.
Care for some?
No, thanks.
- A Schoolboy? - A what?
A chocolate-covered cookie.
No, thanks.
I wanted to thank you. If it weren't for you...
No, I never should have...
No, honestly.
You're still here, too? Is it a problem?
I mean, is your trip urgent?
Sure is.
Because for me right now, an hour more or less...
While you were in the infirmary...
American Airways passengers for Munich.
Your bus is here.
Goodbye, then.
I have a room at the Hilton.
There must be two beds. You'd be more comfortable than here.
Forget it.
No, it's very...
nice of you.
True, a real bed would be...
Prefer the window?
This side's fine.
I prefer near the door.
Okay by me.
Smells drive me... Especially stale smoke.
Do you smoke? No, no...
Hungry?
You can take off your coat.
Mister?
Mister, can you hear me?
Are you okay?
Oh, my God!
I'm fine. I fell asleep, that's all.
- Did I hurt you? - I was asleep.
- On the floor? - Yes, on the floor.
Maybe it's those pills. Did you take more?
I know all about them. A relative of mine...
It's jet lag. I don't even know the time. And my pressure...
- Your what? - My blood pressure.
- Your blood tension! - That's it.
I haven't had lunch.
Dinner. Me neither.
What do you want?
Nothing, really.
Artichoke salad. Are they fresh?
Then tomato salad and ham. Is it fresh cut?
A chicken breast, then. Only drumsticks?
Then ham it is. And French bread.
Not cut, nice and crisp. How about you?
- Honestly, no. - Make it for two.
In that case I'd prefer...
Hang on.
"Hare and venison terrine with pistachios,
"with a pepper mousse and feathered endives with nuts and Roquefort..."
A hare terrine. Vinaigrette on the side.
And fruit. Not a cocktail, just fruit.
In whatever you like. A basket, fine!
And a Calon-Segur... '96.
Everything's so complicated in this country.
Aren't you hot?
I was cold earlier.
No wonder... there's no air.
- Just a few minutes. - Aren't you a bit claustrophobic?
It's strong. What is it, your perfume?
Maybe I put too much on. It's my own blend, with jasmin...
I'll wash my hands. If you don't mind.
Because I'm somewhat allergic.
...bad weather conditions all over Europe.
In addition to this,
the situation is aggravated by several strikes.
At Paris airports, a million travelers
are stranded by an air controller's strike.
I thanked you because
without you,
I'd have gone back with him.
I'd have gone back with him if you hadn't arrived.
At the cafeteria, I'd have fallen for it once again.
It's none of my business.
I just emailed you. You get Marsha Lipton?
Why won't she do the show?
What a bitch! Typical anal American!
She's right about TV. With her hairdo
and beady eyes, she's more fit for radio.
I'm not sleeping. Call when you like.
I'm wide awake, in fact.
- You in the restaurant business? - Sort of.
You're a chef?
I used to be. Now I run a frozen foods company.
I travel a lot, I do consulting, because we belong to a larger firm...
Anyway...
You're not too sure what you do.
I'm just saying that because lots of people...
They're so stressed out, they forget what they do.
And what do you do?
It's a little complicated.
I'm doing a season...
We don't have to talk. I have work to do. Maybe you do, too.
My line of work takes two.
You asked, I'm telling you:
I'm a beautician.
Makeup, massage, waxing, facials, reflexology...
What's that?
Feet. Points on your feet match an organ...
It'll take Mr. Clean to get all that off.
My makeup?
For me it's like clothing. I feel naked without it.
A quirk of the trade, I suppose.
Once again I'm meddling.
No, on the contrary, if we don't get involved
in other people's lives... we end up very lonely. Don't we?
It's you!
"Fine cuisine."
Pronounce it the French way, or...
It doesn't rhyme?
It's mainly for marketing. It sounds...
- French. - And diet-like.
Not for Americans, they don't understand.
But they figure it's the gourmet-medical trend.
Is it good?
It's the latest. It's brand new.
It'll be presented in stores next week.
Plus TV and the web.
- So that's it. - That's what?
Why you're so nervous. Your fits...
- Look, Sabine... - Rose... But I talk too much.
Just a few minutes! Do you mind?
The Popular Front is on the march.
Step one: the two main union federations,
the CGT and the CGTU, merge at the Congress of Toulouse.
Daladier and the Radical Party
join the popular movement.
Had enough?
I could watch for hours. I love history.
My parents are communists.
Come in!
Sit down.
No, we'll split it.
Forget it.
Been living abroad a long time?
Is it so obvious?
You don't even know Schoolboys.
Yes, it's been a while. And I don't miss it.
Lemon soda, French bread... Isn't that being a bit nostalgic?
Not nostalgic, cautious.
True, people eat anything.
For instance, I don't like beef, but I love veal.
Calves come from cows and steers. But no one talks about veal.
Have any inside information on veal?
Not really, except that steers don't sire calves.
- A steer is... - What about it?
A steer is...
Of course. Anyway, I've decided I don't care.
Does it scare you?
What scares me is mediocrity mixed with complications.
In the kitchen, it spells disaster.
Not only in the kitchen.
Want some? No, thanks.
So, what does medical-gastronomic tendency mean?
If we didn't know about deers and hares there would be no terrine.
Well, yeah... When you work as a beautician...
Your relationship with... Sergio.
Did it last long?
12 years.
I'd like to understand.
What goes on in the mind of a broad who suddenly decides to take off?
Sergio came home today like everyday...
He wasn't supposed to. It's the strike. He's a train engineer.
What set it off? Why today of all days?
I found work, a season at "Las Brisas" hotel in Acapulco.
Overnight?
No, last month.
A month of lying.
I didn't lie, I said nothing.
For a month in bed you pretended to...
Pretended to what? Go on, say it!
Pretended to...
Come on, have some guts. Say it!
Pretended to have orgasms? Is that it?
It's a spicier subject than veal.
That's why you invited me. Not for sex, or to be nice.
You're not a nice man. If you were...
- I wouldn't be here. - That's for sure.
Meaning?
You're right.
Let's take advantage of it. We'll never meet again.
You couldn't care less what I think of you,
and, honestly, what you think of me...
I don't give a damn.
So go ahead.
Ask me whatever you're dying to ask.
Okay, then.
For a month you faked orgasms with a man you no longer love?
Wouldn't you like to know?
You're the one...
I'll tell you. I've been faking orgasms
for a very long time
with a man I still love.
Happy now?
Your turn.
Come on!
OK, then...
Besides the remote, when's the last time you touched a sensitive spot?
8 months, almost 9.
Is it obvious?
You can't even stick to one language.
I don't see what the...
Americans don't know Shepherd's Pie.
The French are jerks. Pills for all occasions.
You may be a bit...
A bit what? Go on, say it.
You're playing dumb.
People can be multilingual, no?
People travel. Things have changed since the 30s.
The web, globalization, terrorism... ring a bell?
Well, I like smells.
Not only nice smells.
Perspiration, newsprint, tobacco, even stale.
That's life.
The web has no smell.
True, globalization's a mystery.
Going to Mexico is a start.
I don't give a damn about Mexico. I just don't know where to go.
The empty apartment, the letter, it's so cowardly.
It's pathetic, it's tacky.
It's not a breakup, it's a kiss-off, a getaway. It sucks.
The apartment's not empty.
I left everything as it was.
This pig died for nothing. The ham's lousy.
That's why I'm here.
You can't stand people, but can't stand being alone.
That must be tough.
I deal with it fine. Don't worry about me.
- Why the trip to Germany? - For a funeral.
- Someone close? - Close to someone close.
While in the infirmary...
What are you doing? What's that?
Vinaigrette.
On the side! Olive oil and lemon, I said.
Sorry.
It's dripping. There's way too much!
Why didn't you say so earlier?
I didn't come here just to have some weirdo
give me a third-degree and lectures. Enough lectures!
You don't know what cowardice is! So shut up!
Anyhow, I always get things wrong.
People and things.
It's cheap vinegar. We'll make another vinaigrette.
I'm so sorry.
At last!
I was sick of that voice mail.
I'm still stuck in Paris.
Don't say that, Nadia.
Your grandmother meant a lot to me.
So? Three times meant a lot. She still sent me Christmas cards,
and birthday cards...
You're the one twisting things! You're erasing the past!
It's not erased! Not for me.
So it's been 9 months. And I'm breaking down now!
That's life.
Oh, really?
Yes, I hear you. He'll be there?
So we'll meet.
So what if he doesn't! I came first!
I'm an ex. I exist! An ex is a human being,
you can't blot them out, ban them from funerals,
deny their sorrow, and all that...
So? I've always had anxiety attacks.
Yes, I'm insisting!
Hello?
Felix, you hear me?
I can't hear anything.
I can't hear you. Hello, Nadia?
The hairdryer's broken.
I put my pantyhose on the radiator. Once they're dry, I'll leave.
What's the matter?
You okay?
I... While you...
I tasted your vinaigrette.
It's good.
A very good vinaigrette.
Really?
Do you really mean it?
That's no reason to cry.
I cry easily, even when I hear the Marseillaise.
Cry as much as you like.
There, I've stopped.
I stopped.
Kindness, even fake, is my weak spot.
It's the last thing I need!
Stay natural. Ogres put me at ease.
You saw how well I took your Mr. Clean put-down?
Yet it was pretty low. But I was perfect.
And complexity coupled with... what was it?
Mediocrity.
That was a put-down, too. - Not at all.
It rolled right off me, as if I didn't understand.
Let's turn in.
Go ahead. I won't make a sound on my way out.
- If this can be of use... - I'm OK, thanks.
I broke your mirror.
I'm not superstitious.
Do you love Nadia?
Excuse me?
- The one who called? - It's complicated.
If you want to screw up someone's life, you still love them.
What was that?
She called earlier.
She just called.
No, while you were at the infirmary.
You spoke to Nadia?
I told her you were at the infirmary.
Why'd you say that?
But you were. I wanted to reassure her. I tried to tell you.
Who asked you to reassure her? She was worried? What'd she say?
What's this about ruining her life?
It didn't make much sense.
You already tried ruining her life once before.
She's better now, she's starting a new life.
I don't think she wants to see you.
What business is it of yours? What would you know about all this?
Forget it. What do I know?
I'm lost, too.
I'm out of it, I don't know anymore.
Sorry.
No, it's good.
What's good?
Thaw out a little. Soften up.
Did it ever occur to you that the duck in orange sauce
frozen and locked in its plastic bag might be you?
I hadn't made the...
Well, as for me,
I've scored a point.
I didn't rush to comfort you. I've scored a point.
Congrats.
I'm a sucker for bastards who hurt me.
- Did I hurt you? - It's good practice.
Was she your wife?
No, my wife was two others.
It's polyester. It's almost dry.
I left the first one, the second left me. So far...
A nice balance. Is breakfast so important?
Is breakfast so important?
Nutritionally, it's the most...
It was Nadia's obsession. In her letter...
She left me a letter, you see.
I figured.
A man you can't share breakfast with."
It's my problem. Is it so bad?
If it's only that...
When I wake up in the morning, I need silence, solitude...
The crumpled sheets, the small talk, the knowing gazes,
the smells. I can't handle it! I just can't.
So the fact is, what gets it up at night,
brings it down in the morning.
I don't know what I'm saying. I usually wouldn't use...
If I'd used words like that...
What if you had?
All that stuff: children,
breakfast, major things, minor details.
When you love someone, you don't think. You give your all.
Even if that includes getting beaten up?
Okay, then.
Thanks a lot.
Good luck. See ya.
Can I get a taxi?
To go where? Porte Champerret.
Don't bother.
Rue de Villiers, please...
- You forgot your... - Thanks.
Where are you going?
Home.
Back to the lunatic? To my mother's.
At your age! Hasn't she busted your balls enough?
Get off my back! Drive, please.
Hold on!
Go on. It's your speciality: the Stockholm Syndrome.
Haven't had your daily fix?
Fuck off!
Get away from me! Mind your own business!
And your bags... Will they go to Mexico by themselves?
Room 827. You still serving?
Not even room service...
We've tried room service. Where's the kitchen?
You got 100,l mean 100 Euros?
There were all these crates of parsley on the floor.
So, I'm alone in the kitchen, it's midnight...
Honestly...
Acapulco or the Paris suburbs...
So it's midnight...
I'm alone in the kitchen.
I reduce the parsley.
20 crates!
I open the fridge.
There's cauliflower,
frogs' legs. We always had frogs' legs.
They were on the menu, sautéed in garlic. I sear the cauliflower,
I sear the frogs' legs,
roll them in the parsley sauce.
I brown the whole thing, toss it in a casserole...
I cover it, let it cook slowly in the oven for an hour,
80 minutes, to be precise.
I taste it...
Amazing!
Neither nouvelle cuisine, nor traditional. Totally original.
I went wild!
Dad appears, chef's hat and all.
He'd had a drink with customers.
Not drunk,
never!
He comes up to me: "What's this?"
I was 17,an apprentice, he didn't trust me with anything.
He made me study bookkeeping, stuff I hated, even if later...
But I believed in myself.
I said something dumb.
I said, "Dad, it's a miracle!
"It's like penicillin: due to an error!"
Okay, it was dumb.
He sat down like a customer.
"Go ahead".
I served him.
I was petrified.
He turned to me and said:
"Too much parsley, not enough garlic."
The jerk!
There was no garlic, that was the point.
He didn't get it.
My frogs' legs were great!
I'd done something great and it drove him nuts.
Don't! Try my mignons. It's veal, to boot!
And the frogs?
That's the star: the raw material...
You gotta sublimate the product.
The rest is bullshit.
Hand me the sesame seeds.
When I opened my N.Y. restaurant, the Times wrote:
"Felix
"has transcended the frog."
You staying, you leaving?
What's the trend?
I don't know.
In any event, it's the first time in my life
no one knows where I am.
- Well? - It makes me feel...
I feel a little...
Like new?
A little like new, yes.
That balsamic?
Soy sauce.
That'll do.
You know what cowardice is?
Not daring to have a child on one's own.
I think it's not daring to have a child together.
Did your father ever admit he was wrong?
I left the next day. I haven't seen him, or my mother's grave, since.
So at 17, straight from the Burgundy to N.Y.?
No, first I traveled around,
worked on ships, in the Caribbean, then...
How did you know?
Know what?
I never mentioned Burgundy.
I looked at your passport. I didn't snoop...
That's nosy. It sucks.
I looked at yours.
When I broke your mirror. - You're the snoop!
Does your frozen food taste like this?
Not really.
Why'd you close the restaurant?
My wife screwed the maitre d', her kids robbed the till.
- I fell out with the laundry mafia. - That exists?
10,000 per month for protection and clean tablecloths.
My frozen foods business is quoted on the stock market.
I make a lot, in dollars.
Lost a lot, too, but anyway...
What's that...
What's that gold brush in your case?
The "Golden Brush"!
You really did snoop.
The Nobel Prize for makeup.
There was a ceremony at the Ritz.
You're real good, then?
They didn't even come. They thought it was a joke.
I'm from a family of teachers. So grim!
At home everything was black and gray, even the TV.
So a beautician daughter...
But Rose is a name full of color.
I'm named after Rosa Luxembourg.
One day, when I was around 10,
I described my dream house.
Did I get slapped! It was quite a house...
What's the matter?
No, I do know.
Without me, would you have gone back to him?
No.
Or maybe yes...
But I don't feel like thanking you.
I'm not asking you to.
So what was this house like?
- Mr. Doumergue? Going to Munich? - Yes.
Your plane's leaving. I've looked all over for you.
Well, goodbye.
Stay as long as you like.
Sabine, I suppose you're asleep. Listen...
If you kept that cell phone number... When you get this message,
call me back at...
01 49 19 77 77.
Room 827. It's urgent.
This was Rose. It's 5 a.m.
This may sound...
Don't say a thing.
I was freaking out upstairs.
I wanted to... I don't know, just touch you maybe once.
It's not sexual, I swear! I don't want to sleep with you,
- I swear! - I believe you.
But in that room there was such a feeling...
Such a...
Such a void. Even if it wasn't because of you. Of that I'm sure.
I understand.
You don't miss me and it's not me you want to...
It would be a terrible idea, honestly.
We're both miserable. We have nothing in common.
- We do, we're both miserable. - True.
It's as if I were...
Really, I don't think...
I've only had one man. One and a half.
Me neither. I'm not in the mood.
We've said so much.
Oh, my God!
Hello? Nadia?
No, I'm still in Paris.
Because of the fog. We almost left an hour ago...
I know the snow stopped in Munich. Now it's Paris...
At 8 a.m. supposedly, but...
You sure? You were so against it yesterday.
It's as if fate were working against us.
Okay, right. Directly at the cemetery.
See you tomorrow, I mean, later.
I don't have the key!
Open the door.
Interesting life...
Flying all this way to bury someone you never cared about,
to find somebody you let go since you didn't care either.
Just great!
3 breakups and a funeral?
Keep it up and good luck!
Okay, I came back because of the fog.
But if you only knew how happy I was.
I was so glad the plane didn't leave,
thrilled to come back here and find you,
and your jasmine smell, and spend two more hours with you.
We have two hours, Rose.
Let's spend them together, please.
It's been so long since I've wanted to spend two hours with anyone.
Even if...
Even if...?
Even if I'm dead on my feet.
Me, too.
Gate 34,that way. Mine's not posted yet.
We have time for coffee.
You sure?
I'll put her on. It's for you.
Oh, the message.
I checked out. The plane's finally leaving.
I'll buy the papers. Want any?
Meet you at the cafe.
It took ages, but things are running again.
I was wondering...
What was that house like?
A pinkish roof, blue shutters,
a weeping willow,
ivy everywhere,
a linden tree. Very bourgeois, not original at all.
Look, I have to go.
I'll call you when I arrive. Lots of love.
What would you like?
Don't you like it?
Breakfast is a problem for me.
Stop here.
I'll walk from here.
Ladies and gentlemen, we'll be landing in Acapulco soon.
Temperature outside is 33ºC.
Call to Mexico. Is there a phonebooth?
Not here. There's one outside.
Could you make a sign and write something on it?
Thank you so much.
Rose, it's Felix...
It's Felix. Call me.
Cell phone PIN code: 1954
Rose, it's Felix.
One night, an airport,
a man, a woman. No, I won't be a memory, Rose.
Fuck logic.
So life isn't a Hollywood movie with a happy end.
So what if I keep switching languages!
We have to invent our own happy end.
Anyway, as someone said,
it all depends on when you stop the movie.
Well, let's stop the movie now, Rose.
Wherever you are, whether it's night or day,
there must be palm trees,
music, the sea and all that jazz.
but I'm waiting here. I forgot...
I'm in Burgundy, at my father's.
It's a house I'm sure you'll like.
Catch the next plane.
I'll be at the airport. The place grew on me.
I'll get a room at the Hilton and wait for every flight.
Fuck fine cuisine.
Oh, I almost forgot:
I'm totally in love with you.
I won't promise anything... I mean, I promise you everything.
You can reach me at 04 60 01 50 10.
This is Felix.
Call me.
Please, sir, back to the airport.
The airport, please.