Ola Mexico!

The rhythmic clickety-clack produced by man heels (you read that right!) faintly echoed across the peculiarly peaceful San Francisco International Airport at nine in the evening. It was most audible at our check-in line for Aero Mexico, where Mexicanos donning multihued snakeskin boots, leather jackets and cowboy hats turned our queue into a rodeo catwalk.

Noticeably less baggage compared to the stuff we brought from Philippines to Australia when we started our RTW.
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.

Not included in our itinerary. Bought this postcard anyway for someone it reminded me of.
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.

Hovering above Ciudad De Mexico. I leaned over the Korean guy who took my window seat without permission for this photo. He awoke shocked.
For almost half an hour, we waited in the plane until the airport's immigration officials decided to stamp us in to give us something to do. The transfer was a total chaos cause the ground staff didn't know what was happening. Sleepless me was throwing a tantrum but was back in high spirits when the immigration asked "Where do you live, Australia or Pilipinas?". Pilipinas never sounded so good.

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.

Luna's waking up-to-a-new-country face.
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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