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We had been planning our trip to Mexico for well over a year by the time September 2022 rolled around. Everything was booked, we were packed, and had set off to the airport. Upon arriving at the Vienna airport, I received an Email.
Your Flight Has Been Cancelled!
I had barely slept more than two hours and was not ready for this. A cancellation e-mail right upon our arrival at the airport? What the actual f*ck? So I decided to stop outside the doors and have a cigarette before dealing with this. Lisa, on the other hand, was more proactive, immediately going in to ask questions.
So I sat there puffing on my cancer stick while I reread the email. It had to be a joke. There’s no way the flight was cancelled. The weather, albeit a tad windy, was gorgeous in Vienna and at our first layover. There was no reason for this to happen.
Just as I was coming to this conclusion, Lisa walked out.
“It’s not cancelled. They don’t know why some people received that email.”
A sigh of relief escaped me before the statement had even been processed. Disaster averted. Regarding this, at least and only for now. Although it was still fairly early, I sucked back the rest of my dart before we headed inside.
The Journey Or The Destination
We milled about for a bit. Going to the washroom, refilling water bottles, and grabbing snacks before heading to security. Security was, well, airport security. I won’t bore you with the details. Essentially, it can be summed up in three sentences.
1. Wait in line while preparing the stuff needed to be put in bins (unspoken rule of air travel: don’t be the ass holding up the line).
2. Beep beep.
3. Get redressed/packed and you’re done.
Easy-peasy. We were through and waiting the painfully long wait till boarding. So we sat and chat, read, or whatever else to pass the time. Eventually, we got on and sat in our separate seats (It’s cheaper not to choose seats when booking. Sometimes you get lucky).
Before we knew it, we were landing in Madrid. If there’s one thing you should know about the Madrid airport, it is diabolically long. Make sure you have at least a 45-minute layover long. We had a decently long layover. So on our way to the new gate, we messed around with each other. Being silly, posing with cow statues, you know, the stuff you should do as a couple.
Then there was a long, eventless flight to Cancun. Just the way we like it. No news is certainly good news while flying across the world. The last thing you want to hear is something like, “If you look to the left, you will see the billowing smoke from our engine failure. Please remain calm while we make an emergency landing in the middle of the ocean!” That sounds like a bad time and not what you want from a cheap flight.
Finally, We Arrived In Mexico
Once in Cancun, we got out into the airport and through customs. The Cancun airport has two relatively small and close, unconnected terminals. One for International flights, the other for domestic. Since we were continuing to Mexico City, we had to switch terminals.
Cancun is hot and humid in September. Immediately upon exiting the terminal, moving from the comforting and cool air conditioning, we began to sweat. I believe it was less than a minute before my shirt was clinging to my skin like a shy toddler would their mother.
We attempted to follow the signs to the other terminal. They led to a long, semi-secluded road with no sidewalks between the two terminals. With a lack of a better option, we followed it.
It feels less than comfortable when your first experience in a new country is an isolated road. It’s even worse when that road looks like a main scene from a B-grade horror movie. Thank god it was daytime when we walked down it. For if we had come across the first dead end with the large metal gate or the second dead end with nothing at night… It would have been a bad time.
However, we eventually took a very long detour around a fence to be able to get to the terminal. In a bit of a panic, we rushed through the security, only to find it was a very small airport. Not wanting to do so again, the two of us had our first Mexican burrito in the food court before splitting off. I went to go choke down some more cancer and Lisa went to go change. After we both had finished, we met back in the line for boarding. A short flight later, we were landing in Mexico City.
Don’t Rent A Car In Mexico
In booking everything, I knew we were going to be moving around a good portion of Central Mexico. I was ready for it. I had booked a rental car. It was a great price, I had entered the necessary information from our travel insurance to cover the car’s insurance, so I didn’t have to pay their price. I was prepared.
When we got off the plane in Mexico City, it was already pretty late. Probably between 10:30-11:30. We quickly void the little rental kiosk and waited between 30 and 60 minutes for an employee to show up. By the time he had arrived, lured us onto a shuttle, and we arrived at the actual rental place, it was well past midnight.
Yet, there was still a line. Lisa got in fairly quickly (she was the named driver. After all, the only reason I would be going back to Canada later in this trip was to renew my driver’s license), but that’s where the problems began. Neither attendant spoke English. Therefore, it was back and forth with a translator for what seemed like hours. Eventually, I had to get involved.
A Scam Or Not A Scam, That Is The Question
They weren’t accepting our internationally recognized insurance. Therefore, they wanted us to either pay for theirs, get the insurance provider on the phone (expensive, and they weren’t open just yet. Timezones, am I right?), Cancel and rebook with the information again (forfeiting what we had already paid), or forfeit the car. We needed that car to get to the Hidalgo and Querétaro provinces. They also did this to the guys just ahead of us in line.
So after a painful amount of annoying debate, we finally caved. We’d pay the insurance. Just let us go to the hostel and sleep. We were travelling for 15 hours or more! Who could even tell at that point? Then it got worse.
We bank with N26. Arguably the best bank out there for the traveller. The debit card is a debit MasterCard that registers as a credit card 90-95% of the time. Whenever it comes to a place that takes debit, but not credit cards, it won’t work.
For some stupid reason, this piece of shite system was registering it as a debit card. Which caused the deposit required to increase from around 200 Euros to 2000 Euros. Absolute f*cking lunacy. After some more argument and getting some things in writing, we agreed to pay the astronomical deposit. If this was a scam, and they kept the money, I would just contact MasterCard.
Finally, we got our car. A little dinged-up sh*t box that screeched like a Nazgul every time you tapped the brakes. I immediately went about taking photos of every single scratch and indent on the entire thing while we were still in the lit-up parking lot. I was not about to let them scam me out of two grand.
Trying To Get To The Hostel
Even though documenting every little ding took way too much time, I felt more secure. It was almost two in the morning, and we were both getting cranky, hangry, and tired. Not long after, we started driving toward where the GPS told us to go and found out Lisa does not like driving in Mexico City.
There were no noticeable speed signs and people were speeding past at varying speeds. People would never stop properly at red lights. Oh, and the best part? All the weird roundabouts that weren’t roundabouts with exits that weren’t properly marked. We passed the proper exit around 4 times before finally finding it. Lisa got more panicked with each pass, to the point where she was almost crying.
At last, we had found the right turn-off, navigated two or three more turns, and found the hostel. We parked the car in one of the marked spots nearby and headed in. Upon getting out of the car and looking around, we could immediately see that the hostel wasn’t in the best of areas. Barbed wire on fences, bars on lower windows, upon pushing open the large, heavy wooden doors to the hostel courtyard a large locked metal gate blocked the path. We rang and were let in.
The reception was almost immediately on the right. It stood to the side in front of a large courtyard open to the sky. Plants standing in the middle and dark green neon words beaming from the far wall.
We checked into a single room for the first night, so that we could recover from the long trip. We dropped off our bags in the large, spacious room that held a TV, a large bed, a bunk bed and a shower around the corner.
Finding Food At 2 In The Morning
After dropping off our bags, we headed back to the reception to ask if there was somewhere open for food. We weren’t expecting much as it was terribly late, but to our surprise we were wrong. The lady told us that one of the best taco places in Central Mexico was just around the corner and would still be open.
With an excited thanks and a warning to stay safe in return, we departed. We walked a few blocks to this little place that was little more than a literal hole in the wall. The words “La Terrazza” were written above the open kitchen/restaurant, and the seating stood out on the sidewalk in front.
We ordered a few different things before watching as the corn tortillas were made from scratch and the cooked meat was carved from a large roast. All of it was thrown together, some with cheese and others without.
As we began shovelling food into our mouths like a kid eating candy, the place started to get busier and busier. For good reason, too. Those tacos were the best we had ever eaten. It wasn’t just because we were hungry, either. Every time we went back they were just as good, if not better, than that first night.
As it got busier around 2:30 in the morning, we ate until we were full, and then we ate some more. The various salsas, guacamole, and other toppings on the table allowed for a variety of flavour combinations that just melted together in our mouths. When we left, there were still 10 people eating and chatting away.
With our bellies full and smiles on our faces, we headed back to the hostel. Once there, we fell into bed and almost instantly slipped into sleep’s silent embrace.
