Travel to Mexico City DF / Cervesaria



So The last few times that I’ve flown out of the city of Chicago I’ve left from Midway, it’s a bit more south and a heck of a lot easier to get there on time than driving through the traffic. Well, after the nights packing and priming, I was barely able to stay awake in the car, and luckily somehow mom was fine to drive after sleeping on the couch for 45 minutes. I was sweating it a bit as we were a few minutes behind our target departure time. Luckily we arrived to the passenger drop off and I was psyched that since I booked the entire trip through American Airlines, I was able to check-in pretty easily and quickly.

I remember getting on the plane, and then waking up for a drink of water and then the announcement that the pilot was going to be getting in a bit early. I breathed a sign of relief because I had a tight connection…Well, no sooner had I relaxed about the connection when he said he couldn’t land immediately so we had to get into a holding pattern for about 20 minutes…so that killed our getting in early. So after so many circles, we make our final descent and BUMP, we land…so again the pilot gets on the speaker phone and announces that we don’t have a gate yet, and need to just sit on the runway for a bit. Mind you my flight boards at 1:20, and it’s 1:17 when I get this announcement…so I’m already sweating it…

Finally we park at the gate, and I’m in the 4th to last row in a jumbo jet, so even though we’re at the gate there is absolutely no way that I can get off…so another 7 minutes pass, and so once I’m off the plane I convert my carry-on bag into a backpack and immediately full sprint through the airport, I was yelling for people to get out of my way and sprinted up the escalator and saw that the doors were just about to close on the terminal train…I ran and dove, and whew, made it through…of course the terminal that I need is the absolute last one on the train’s circuit, but at this point I can’t do anything about it, so I just rest and take a moment to catch my breath. Each stop seems to take a decade to open the doors, then to close them again. I get off at the very last stop, and sprint down the escalator and just as they were boarding the 4th section (I was section 2) and whew…made it with a few minutes to spare…

Once I was on the plane they made an offer for 800 dollars travel voucher and a flight into D.F at midnight, and boy did I ever want to take that offer, but not knowing how I was going to get to Veronica’s house I couldn’t take it…especially since she had arranged a taxi to pick me up. Again I fall asleep on the…zzzzz…yes I’d like some water….zzzzzz….

Getting through customs was a snap, and all I had to do was push a giant yellow button…seriously. I walked up to the officer, and she said to push the button, and I did. And it told me to move on.

Then getting my passport stamped was equally easy, I had written my Abuelita’s address as the main point of contact, and then poof, I was through.

Finding my taxi driver was not so easy, I had exited from salon 3 and he was at salon 2. Luckily my cell phone worked and I was able to call Verónica and she talked to him and we ended up crossing paths, but I was getting a bit worried, because I didn’t see my name on a sign…finally we finally met up and he showed me a 3×2 foot sign with my name on it I felt like a doof…but it all worked out…and I got to practice my Spanish at the cajero, where I exchanged money, and then paid for the parking ticket…sadly the cabbie couldn’t find the right door to get out of on the elevator, we must have gone up and down about 8 times before we finally got out on the right floor of the parking structure…I mean, there was an A and B side of the elevator and they were kind of half floors, I mean if a local cabbie couldn’t figure it out, imagine all to folks who actually want to rent cars etc.

I got a history lesson in Spanish on the way home to Vero’s house, and we passed the Centro National de Los Artes, and when I arrived in Tlalpan, Vero and I went to the section square and had a few beers in this small two story bar with music and a bunch of local kids (you only have to be 18) hanging out, smoking and having a good time…and the thing that I noticed, is that NO ONE has lime in their beer! And that Familial is not a relationship but a huge bottle of Corona beer (imagine a fourty oz of OE, with a beer that you enjoy drinking…Excellent.