We checked in four hours early for our flight. I made sure we had enough time for we almost didn't make it to our last one (Sydney-San Francisco). And yah know, sprinting with two carry ons, a stroller, a car infant seat and a heavy tot who still couldn't walk (let alone run) to the boarding gate is like a more brutal version of a baton relay which I ain't a fan of.
After our last Chinese meal of orange chicken and fried noodles (perhaps for a long time) at the food court we ambled to Gate A5. Our Boeing 737 bound for Ciudad De Mexico taxied on the dot, and soon enough we bid farewell to California's winter.
At cruising altitude, the captain went through his usual spiel and informed the passengers of the plane's estimated arrival in three hours and forty minutes. Which didn't happen. Because of the city's dense fog at dawn, the pilots were forced to land in Guadalajara and standby for further instructions.
For almost half an hour, we waited in the plane until the airport's immigration officials decided to stamp us in
He stamped my passport and said "That's it". After 173 days, we officially stepped on our third country for this trip. On our way to yet another boarding gate after collecting our luggage and checking in (again!), I grabbed a Guadalajara postcard for the awesome Ada Lajara of Adaphobic.
In fifty more minutes we arrived at our destination. We rode a taxi playing Rick Astley's Together Forever, got stuck in traffic because of a procession for La Virgen de Guadalupe (The Virgin Of Guadalupe), and finally settled in an 18th century house.
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