Flying Down to Mexico - The Second Leg

After spending most of my three hour layover in the United Club lounge in Houston writing yesterday's blog post, and reading my book, I headed to the gate where my flight to Mexico City was soon to leave.  I could tell by the number of people waiting that the plane was not going to be full.  As I mentioned yesterday, I had booked a first class ticket using my frequent flyer miles.  A few minutes before boarding was to begin, I took my place at the head of the  "group one" lane.  Of course, prior to "group one" they do the pre-boarding, calling for people with disabilities, families traveling with children under the age of two, etc.  However, for some reason, unbeknownst to me, they called me up.  For the first time in my life, I was the first person to board the plane!

The first class section was full.  I suspect that if there had been any empty seats there were passengers who were eligible for upgrades.  However, from what I could see when I stood up at the end of the flight, the economy section was only half full.

We departed Houston just a few minutes late, but we still arrived in Mexico City about twenty minutes early.  After taking off, we were soon flying over Galveston Bay and out over the Gulf of Mexico.

There was a solid blanket of clouds below us for most of the flight.  We were well over Mexico before the clouds began to break.  Usually my flights to Mexico City circle around and come over the city from the northwest, but this time we approached the city from the northeast.  

I was able to make out the snow-covered peak of Orizaba, Mexico's tallest mountain and the third highest in all of North America. (elevation - 18,491 feet).  However, Popocatépetl and Iztaccíhautl, the volcanic peaks which are near Mexico City, were shrouded in clouds.

As we descended we passed over a fairly large city which must have been Texcoco, which is located fifteen miles to the northeast of Mexico City.

Just beyond that are the remnants of Lake Texcoco, which once covered most of the Valley of Mexico, where Mexico City stands today.  Above the lake you can see eastern side of the sprawling city.

In a matter of moments we were on the ground at Mexico City International Airport.  I made the long walk to the immigration and customs area, and I was pleased to see that there was no line at all at immigration.  (There have been times in which I have waited in line for as long as an hour.) Usually U.S. visitors to Mexico are given permission to stay for 180 days in the country, but I recently read that they have been giving shorter permits.  The immigration official asked me how long I was staying, and I answered two months (which is a bit longer than my planned seven weeks).  He also asked if I had already booked my return airfare... something I have never been asked before.  Sure enough, he wrote "60 days" on my tourist card.  The Mexican government is cracking down on the many U.S. citizens who are actually living year-round in Mexico on a tourist card.  They stay for 180 days, make a quick trip back to the U.S., and then return on another tourist card.  I just hope that they never view the one third of the year that I spend down here as "living in Mexico". 

From immigration I went to the baggage claim, and my big, blue suitcase, stuffed with gifts for Alejandro and his family, soon appeared.  I was apprehensive that they were going thoroughly inspect my luggage, the way they did last April when I brought that big suitcase.  However, they did not even have the x-ray machine through which you generally pass your luggage.  I walked right through customs and out the sliding doors into the terminal.

So, the journey went smoothly without a hitch.  However, I was soon to discover that my trip was going to take a turn that I did not expect.