Our flight left at 1:45 from Phoenix. We had a short puddle-jumper flight to Hermosillo, Mexico, a little town about an hour south of the border with an equally little 8-gate terminal. Like a lot of small airports, they have a convoluted way to change planes and gates that involves waiting for your checked luggage, putting it through security again, then back-tracking to the terminal we already passed in order to wait for our flight. We also went through customs in Hermosillo. Of course, we didn’t know we had to do any of this, and at each stage, we sort of looked around in confusion. People were obviously trying to explain to the muddled gringas what to do next, but since nobody speaks English, we had to muddle through on Deborah´s limited Spanish, and a lot of pointing.
The flight to Mexico City ended up getting in an hour later than it was supposed to. At least it was a 737. The tour company handling our excursions in Mexico City had two folks there to greet us. The hotel is decorated in that vaguely Asian-modern style that I dislike, but it is comfortable enough. Traveling always tires me out. I ended up soaking in the hotel tub to end the day.
Our ride from the airport to the hotel was vaguely scary–the not-so-good side of town after dark on a Friday night. Stayed tuned for today´s adventure, in which we had a city tour of Mexico City by daylight, spent lots of pesos, took mucho pictures, saw every exhibit in the National Museum of Anthropology and didn’t leave until my back was broke and our camera batteries went dead.