Day 1: Behind the wall
MEXICO CITY (1/17) - There’s actually a Day 0, where I flew down to Miami and landed twice. Well, almost twice.
The tower noticed that we were landing on a parallel runway to a plane getting ready to take off. Nobody was in danger; it would just be a heck of a wake for the departing plane.
Lots of things contributed to my bad night of sleep - the hotel being runway-adjacent the primary one. The Cherry Coke at 9:30 was another, and the sheer excitement of travel finished things off.
That just meant I could get more things done in the morning. So I dialed up AT&T to negotiate a Mexico addition to my data plan, and then called my credit card companies to warn them of pesos coming their way.
Flying over and into Mexico City, you notice the once-and-future volcanoes littering the landscape. The actual descent into the airport is also frightening; imagine any airport plopped in the middle of the city, and you can appreciate the fear of buildings and highways getting closer until *bang!* the runway.
Customs went smoothly; I followed directions on the immigration form and filled out both top and bottom portions. Several people ahead of me who didn't were turned away by Presidente Peña Nieto’s crack staff of agents.
After exchanging money - I tried to pawn off $20 Canadian ($5 paper, $15 coin); they didn’t bite - I attempted to hail an Uber for the first time. No such luck.
So instead, I was directed to an Authorized Taxi counter, where I provided the agent with my address. She gave me the cost ($339; pesos use the dollar sign), a ticket, and a gate number to meet my taxi.
I did follow through with one portion of the sharing economy as I entered my AirBnB accommodation for the week. It’s a bedroom in a sixth-floor penthouse, which I’m sharing with another family. It’s in a good location, within walking distance of the Metro, WalMart, and across the street from 7-11.
I walked over to WalMart, bypassing the attached parking garage, to pick up a few snack items. I was impressed with the values at El WalMart; given that the dollar is running at about 21.5 pesos, I bought the following for $126.98 (US $5.91): a box of cereal, a bunch of bananas, a bag of chips, a box of V8, and a 2½-liter bottle of Coke. (I’ve noticed that when you don’t trust the water, alternative beverages come in larger packages. (3L of Pepsi, anyone?) I made a separate trip to 7-11 for a box of milk ($17.50/0.81).
Ahead of dinner, I took a long tour of the Metro system, taking the following routes: 12-2-9-4-6-7-12. I pulled up a station short to eat at Sanborns. Two California brothers founded the department store and lunch counter before the revolution (Mexico’s, which started in 1910). Eventually, some of the lunch counters broke away and became cafés of their own.
They resemble American restaurants, right down to the English-language Adult Contemporary stylings of Genesis and Paul McCartney. However, the waitresses are dressed in traditional Mexican garb. The waitress, hostess, cashier, and I had our moments stumbling over the language barrier, but we all left satisfied. I did find it odd that the cashier simply pulled the tip out of the till. It was the correct amount - I even air-scribbled 3-6 to verify my treinta y seis.
Mañana the sightseeing starts in earnest.
The tower noticed that we were landing on a parallel runway to a plane getting ready to take off. Nobody was in danger; it would just be a heck of a wake for the departing plane.
Lots of things contributed to my bad night of sleep - the hotel being runway-adjacent the primary one. The Cherry Coke at 9:30 was another, and the sheer excitement of travel finished things off.
That just meant I could get more things done in the morning. So I dialed up AT&T to negotiate a Mexico addition to my data plan, and then called my credit card companies to warn them of pesos coming their way.
Flying over and into Mexico City, you notice the once-and-future volcanoes littering the landscape. The actual descent into the airport is also frightening; imagine any airport plopped in the middle of the city, and you can appreciate the fear of buildings and highways getting closer until *bang!* the runway.
Customs went smoothly; I followed directions on the immigration form and filled out both top and bottom portions. Several people ahead of me who didn't were turned away by Presidente Peña Nieto’s crack staff of agents.
After exchanging money - I tried to pawn off $20 Canadian ($5 paper, $15 coin); they didn’t bite - I attempted to hail an Uber for the first time. No such luck.
So instead, I was directed to an Authorized Taxi counter, where I provided the agent with my address. She gave me the cost ($339; pesos use the dollar sign), a ticket, and a gate number to meet my taxi.
I did follow through with one portion of the sharing economy as I entered my AirBnB accommodation for the week. It’s a bedroom in a sixth-floor penthouse, which I’m sharing with another family. It’s in a good location, within walking distance of the Metro, WalMart, and across the street from 7-11.
I walked over to WalMart, bypassing the attached parking garage, to pick up a few snack items. I was impressed with the values at El WalMart; given that the dollar is running at about 21.5 pesos, I bought the following for $126.98 (US $5.91): a box of cereal, a bunch of bananas, a bag of chips, a box of V8, and a 2½-liter bottle of Coke. (I’ve noticed that when you don’t trust the water, alternative beverages come in larger packages. (3L of Pepsi, anyone?) I made a separate trip to 7-11 for a box of milk ($17.50/0.81).
Ahead of dinner, I took a long tour of the Metro system, taking the following routes: 12-2-9-4-6-7-12. I pulled up a station short to eat at Sanborns. Two California brothers founded the department store and lunch counter before the revolution (Mexico’s, which started in 1910). Eventually, some of the lunch counters broke away and became cafés of their own.
They resemble American restaurants, right down to the English-language Adult Contemporary stylings of Genesis and Paul McCartney. However, the waitresses are dressed in traditional Mexican garb. The waitress, hostess, cashier, and I had our moments stumbling over the language barrier, but we all left satisfied. I did find it odd that the cashier simply pulled the tip out of the till. It was the correct amount - I even air-scribbled 3-6 to verify my treinta y seis.
Mañana the sightseeing starts in earnest.