Getting there is half the battle

Well before I could get to lovely Culiacan I had to well…get here. I woke up early to make sure I remembered everything important (note I forgot: PJ pants, PJ shorts, and my blue purse) while it is still before 6 am I run and take my last American shower for a while.

Eventually my parents wake up (I don’t eat because my tummy gets nervous sometimes while flying…not always but enough that I don’t risk it). My parents wake up and get the car packed and we get to the airport.

Now, I am taking an international flight, but I am leaving from the San Diego commuter terminal. Like so many other times that means that the person in charge of me checking in will undoubtedly be unaware of visa requirements.
This time they were convinced I needed a round trip ticket to go to Mexico. This is not the case and eventually they figured it out as well, but it always leads to a slightly nerve wracking 15 minutes as I wait trying to figure it out (that’s why I am always early to airports people).

After I get to go through security I got to experience the “machine that takes a picture of you naked or whatever to make sure that you aren’t hiding things (yet I still have to take my shoes off).” I was OK with that, and my baggage made it through unscathed as well.

Quick puddle jumper over to Los Angeles and I wandered around aimlessly trying to find where the hell AeroMexico was. I finally found a place and when checking in (entirely in Spanish mind you) was told they have no idea where my baggage is and my name is not on the list. Well, I was thinking a few choice words in Spanish (Joder being one of them) but I settled on an Ottie like head tilt and something very elegant (like a mix between a grumble and a mumble, a mumbled grumble?) after a good 15-20 minutes of her talking with her boss she seemed to find my bags and print out a boarding ticket.

I can again only repeat my support of early airport arrivals (including layovers). My next flight was pretty inconsequential. I sat next to a bigger lady (so I could not put my arm rest down) but managed to get moved during the flight (just not during take-off or landing). When we landed in Hermosillo there was a torrential downpour and the pilot advised we stay in the plane for another 10-20 minutes to avoid getting wet.

We did and when I went through customs I only got a quick, “Vivas en los Estados Unidos?” I almost answered, “No, es que el año pasado vive en España y antes de este en Hollanda, pero si he vivido en Los Estados Unidos” but with customs I find shorter is better so my response was simply, “Sí.” I then got selected for a random bag screening (literally you press a button if it turns red you get checked) they search your bag. It looked like every other bag was searched. Mine was found acceptable if anything it was very dull (though the person after me was questioned as to the amount of clothes they had packed for their trip they seemed to think my two bags were fine). Due to the rain my flight was delayed for an hour and a half so I finished a book and stalked a person who said they were also headed to Culiacan.

One last take off and finally I had my last landing in Culiacan. I grabbed my bags and met up with John and his wife (Mickey) and was led to my new (temporary) home sweet home.