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Let's start from the beginning...

Last time I went, I flew from my country to Mexico City, and then from there to Seattle. I took the same route on the way back. Overall, it was fairly quick and was by far the best option offered by the travel agency that the company I work for uses (all the other routes were waaay longer or had a lot more legs).

My way there was... ok. The flight itself was great, but Mexico City's airport was chock-full of people. I had trouble finding a place to sit down, so I took advantage of the situation and put on an audiobook while I walked around the airport looking for a nice place to sit. After a while, I was extremely lucky to stumble upon one of the nicest and most delicious Mexican restaurants I've ever been to: Vuela Carmela (you should definitely check it out if you find yourself in MEX).

Vuela Carmela became my haven for the four hours or so I still had to wait. I sat down to read a book while I drank some cappuccinos and had something to eat. Despite the airport being quite full (as I mentioned before), the restaurant was fairly empty, and the waiters were very friendly and happy to chat.

I was happy that I would fly through Mexico on my way back so I could try something new from the menu. I only had a two hour layover on my way back though... Or at least that's what I thought, but I was very mistaken.

... The flight to Seattle went fine, work stuff happened and was fine ...

Then came the time to go back home. Once I arrived at the MEX airport again, I was completely baffled by the astronomical, incomprehensible, mind-boggling number of people who were delayed there due to the Popocatépetl volcano erupting. We're talking about people sleeping in the corridors, near the bathrooms, everywhere... Though perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself.

While in the taxi on my way to the Seattle airport, the news broadcast from the radio was saying something about an eruption somewhere, but I was paying little attention; still groggy with sleep and not having yet had my morning coffee. It turns out that Mexico City is really close (as in 70 km/43 miles close) to the Popocatépetl volcano, which had decided that was the right time to start erupting a shit-ton of smoke and ashes. This, of course, is not good for airplanes, so all flights were grounded for two days. I got there at the beginning of day one.

Fast forward to when I landed in MEX.

At the time, I was completely oblivious to what was happening. I instead checked the flights board and saw that my assigned gate had not yet been posted but the flight read "ON TIME", so all was good. I went to have lunch at Vuela Carmela, where I met the same waiter from last time. I stayed there a bit and then went to check the flights board again. Now my gate was posted, so I made my way there.

... I was actually going to talk in detail about everything that happened, but perhaps we can just summarize it by saying that the flight kept being delayed, delayed, delayed, delayed. It was marked as canceled almost 12 hours after its expected departure time.

By this time, it was already quite late (11pm or so), and I think I was just too dazed to think much about what was happening, so I just went along with the flow.

Some people from Aeromexico (the airline I was traveling with) came to tell us we should make our way to the Aeromexico counters so they could issue a new ticket for the next day. It sounded pretty simple in principle, but remember the mind-boggling amount of people I mentioned before? Well, MEX is served in it's great majority by Aeromexico flights, meaning that almost all of them ended up in the queue with me!

I kid you not when I say the "queue" (if such a thing could be called that) went from the inner counters of Aeromexico, through airport, outside, turned the corner, and far off into the drop-off area on the street. But this still didn't deter my optimism. I stood there, almost half a mile from my goal that was the counter, thinking it would probably take just a couple of hours. Oh silly me.

What followed were almost six or so hours, just standing there, moving very very slowly. I made some friends, a couple of Mexican people standing behind me, some folks who were actually meant to board my same flight back home, a polish kid and his mother. As time dragged its leaden feet, people would spontaneously leave the queue. The smart ones left with the goal of coming back later when there were fewer people, while the ones beaten by the queue left in despair to try and talk to someone. At the same time, new people came in, a constant flux while we all moved together as one.

Honestly, my memories of what happened during this time are very fuzzy. I remember that for a while I listened to my trusty audiobook, then read a bit, then wrote a bit in a notebook I was carrying.

I remember there was a lady in front of me who kept looking back at me. I smiled at her a couple of times, hopefully in a friendly and commiserating way. We never spoke though. At one point she caught my eye and made as if to speak to me and, in a panic, I literally hid myself behind my notebook (as in raising it up to my face).

I still remember feeling the heat on my face as I saw her from the corner of my eye, just staring at me with her mouth open, an expression of disbelief on her face (or that's how I remember it at least). I felt bad about this later, she didn't deserve my childish behavior. I wanted to apologize, but shortly after I had decided this was the right thing to do, she left the queue; a friend she was with had come to get her saying they should go and buy new ticket with another airline instead of waiting for who knows how many more hours. I guess I'll never get to say sorry. I didn't mean it, didn't mean anything by it. My mind was just not working properly.

The remaining hours went by, inexorably. As the Aeromexico counter came into view, I found myself among a nice group of people. I wouldn't really say friends but the silent hours together had molded us into some kind of group, hammered us into a sort of support system. By this time, it was around 5 am, and TV cameras started to come in to film the large number of people — the queue was still as big as ever, with new planes landing all the while and feeding its insatiable hunger. One of the people I was with, a Mexican guy who was on his way to visit his son somewhere to the south, was actually interviewed by one of the major local news channels (I appeared in the background and waved at the camera, but they'll probably cut that part out if they air it at all).

Eventually, we got to the counter, and at that precise moment our group disbanded. I feel kind of bad that everyone in the group exchanged phone numbers except for me. I had many chances to offer my number or ask theirs, but I just... didn't. Perhaps something to explore in a future post.

It was around 10 am when I was almost right at the Aeromexico counter. I could've sworn I saw a dear ex-coworker standing a couple of people away right in front of me. I didn't see her face but she was the same height, same build, and had the same true raven black hair. I wanted to call out to her, but (again) didn't. I spent my remaining time at the airport that day looking for her, but of course, I did not see her again.

Finally. Finally I got to the counter and got to speak to a very friendly lady from Aeromexico who printed me a new boarding ticket for a flight that was leaving the next morning (on day number three). I was already very tired so I took a shuttle to one of those generic airport hotels and slept. I got at the hotel I think around 11 am (after sorting everything out at the airport) and set an alarm to wake me up for dinner. I slept right through and woke up at 5am the next morning feeling completely refreshed, in time to take the shuttle back for my flight.

The rest of the story went fairly well. I had breakfast at Vuela Carmela once again before finally boarding my flight home.

So... it seems I did have some stuff to work through, especially around the memories of "the queue". It's funny, but while writing about that part, I almost felt my mind slipping into that same hypnotic, sleepless state.

The good news about this new trip to Seattle is that I won't be going through Mexico. Even if I wanted to, the travel agency didn't give me Mexico as a layover option.

If you're still here then I thanks you for reading!

~ 🌻🛩