Mexico, day 1, travel

I had to get up a couple of hours early, to leave the house by 6am, for an 8 am international flight to Mexico. Milwaukee is an easy airport. There wasn’t anybody else in line when I walked up to security. Flew to Houston. I had 45 minutes between flights there, which really gives you less than 45 minutes, since that’s the time they depart from the gate, but they close the doors early. But I got to the gate in 30 minutes, and that’s from when my plane touched the ground, taxied to the gate, I deplaned, rode the train and walked a surprisingly long way down the concourse.

Then I got to Mexico City. That was a nightmare. I couldn’t figure out where to go. I was pretty sure I needed to go to the other terminal, but I didn’t know how to get there. I asked person in a uniform, and she said to use the elevator, and pointed at them. They only went to the parking structure. On the elevator, I asked a guy, and he said to take the skytrain. I found it. By this time I was starting to see the signs and their icons. The guy there said I couldn’t ride without a boarding pass. He said to go to door 2, because Aeromexico has an office there. They did not. I started the long walk again. Finally found someone else to ask. Fortunately, he seemed to speak English. He told me to go to door 6 (and pointed at it) and ride the bus. I didn’t have any pesos, but they took a dollar. The ride to the other terminal took about ten minutes.

The bus parks, and I follow the other passengers into the building. It’s a cavern. No signs. I found some security guards, who told me to go upstairs. There was Aeromexico check-in. There were three areas, I went to the third because it was the one that seemed to be for domestic flights. The guy at the entrance told me to go to the second. The person at the second seemed to understand English better and sent me back to the third. When I got to the counter, the woman there told me to wait, and walked away. I assumed she was going to find out what to tell me since I would miss my flight. She came back and told that my flight had been delayed, and that I should hurry. And that there was no time to check my bag, and I would have to check it at the gate.

I still wasn’t quite sure where to go. When I found it, it seemed like the obvious place, but my brain was shot at this point. I had walked in a hurry, for what seemed like miles, panicky, and without water. I went up to the entrance and was turned away. The guy didn’t speak any English and showed me a piece of paper that said something like “Restricto”. I showed my boarding pass and tried to seem insistent. He called after a woman, but she didn’t hear. I went after her, but lost her. I asked someone else, an employee, but she didn’t speak English and probably didn’t know anyway. A guy who was talking to her offered to translate. He had a badge, like he worked there, but wasn’t in uniform. He made a call trying to find my gate. I explained that I didn’t need to know my gate, only how to get into the concourse. He took me to that same entrance, and talked with a woman there. She let me through.

I moved on to security. They confiscated my cheese. Dave had asked me to bring him some sharp cheddar.

I went to the area of gate A. There was a giant crowd of people. I went to a nearby counter and showed my boarding pass. The woman smiled and motioned to the giant crowd of people. I stood looking down over them for a while. It was actually an area for boarding several flights. I waited a bit and then realized I’d better verify that mine hadn’t boarded already. People started moving through for a different flight, which made some room, and I went up to the front. I showed my boarding pass and she motioned to the giant crowd of people. That’s where I was standing at 4:40, and the board said it was still on time to depart at 4:40.

Finally, they announced our flight and we went through. We went downstairs and waited for the bus. Got on the bus and drove along the tarmac to our plane. Climbed the steps and boarded the plane. Took off about an hour late. Everything was smooth after that.

I must say I was very grateful to have Dave to text with, for moral support throughout the ordeal!

Dave picked me up at the airport in Oaxaca, and took me to the hotel. I dropped my stuff off in the room and we went out to eat. My first meal of the day. He had planned on taking me to get some craft beer, which would have been nice, but I was pretty shot after the ordeal at MEX, and I hadn’t eaten real food all day, so we just got dinner. I don’t remember what it was, and I’m sure it didn’t have a name in English, but it was good.

We walked around town for a while and stopped at a tiki bar owned by some people Dave knows. Had a mezcal, I think. Went back to the hotel to find they had upgraded my room. I didn’t really need a double, but it was handy, and I was moved farther away from the group of people who gathered in the courtyard every night.

Mexico, day 2, mezcal

My first full day in Mexico (ever). I slept badly. The room was fine, but the mattress was hard. The neighborhood was noisy since it was some holiday about the Immaculate Conception and people were setting off fireworks all night, and well into daylight.

We went for breakfast then left town. We drove to a tiny town called Santa Catarina Minas. Parked a walked a couple of blocks to see an old church. Like most of them, it had been there since colonial times.

Then we went up to the road to the palenque, where they make mezcal. Mezcal is made from agave, like tequila. Tequila is made of the blue agave only, and only in Jalisco. Mezcal is made elsewhere, and of many different varieties of the plant, which is called maguey when it’s not the blue agave. I was introduced to Evodio, the third-generation proprietor (his son has a Palenque across the road). He gave us a couple of varieties of mezcal. All the varieties are made the same way, but differentiated by the variety of maguey. Then he took us out to the fields to where they were growing. He showed us the cooking, mashing, fermenting and distillation areas. After the tour, we went back to the house for lunch. His wife had cooked us chicken and rice. A simple meal, but I must say it was the best meal of the trip! And we had more mezcal.

I left town a couple of bottles of mezcal richer. We drove through the countryside to another small town, where Dave needed to stop at another palenque to buy a particular bottling of mezcal, but they were not there.

We decided to visit some ruins, and stopped in the little town, but the place closed at 3:00 – we arrived at 2:59. We went to a nearby café and had some beer and guacamole and grasshoppers. And then took a look at the church around the corner.

We moved on for a while and stopped at another palenque. This one was along the highway, on a strip with many others. There are maguey farms, palenques and mezcalerias everywhere in Oaxaca. About 70% of all mezcal (not counting tequila) is made in the state. At the previous place, I got two hand-labeled two-liter bottles. By that, I mean with a Sharpie. At this one, I got a pretty little 375 ml bottle.

Then we went back into town, and sat on Dave's rooftop patio. Every afternoon all the expat residents in his building go up to sit and chat with beverages. Later we went back out on the town, and found an Italian restaurant, and sat on the roof.

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