Follow the Red-Haired Lady
"Hurry, follow us, and this woman can get you on a bus to León!" Those were the words I heard when Ann Dunn and her husband Mark hurried by with their luggage in tow, making their way through a very crowded Mexico City airport. My own entourage slowly came to a halt behind me, as my wife Jan, six year old son Matthew, and a skycap pushing an overloaded cart of our luggage successfully navigated amid the chaos of the airport lobby to reach the spot where I stood.
It was time for a split-second decision about our travel plans. With little time to weigh the consequences, my instincts would have to suffice. Still, I had to have a little more information before deciding. I stopped Ann just long enough to ask "Which woman?". She pointed to a woman in a blue AeroMexico uniform and a bright red bow in her hair. With that single piece of additional information, I decided this was the best development we'd had in hours. I tried for a moment to remember the Spanish word for 'follow', but failing that I pointed toward Ann, and told the porter in English "Follow the red-haired lady." I'm sure the words were meaningless but our actions weren't, as we headed back into the crowds, unsure of our destination but glad to at least be moving again.
Twelve Hours Earlier
By that time, our travel day was more than 12 hours in progress, and nothing had been easy yet. We left our home in Mississippi around 7 AM, headed to New Orleans where we were to board a Delta airlines flight to Dallas. Then, from Dallas to Mexico City, and on to León/Guanajuato (pronounced lay-ON, and gwana-HWA-to) airport. Our scheduled arrival was 6:30 PM.
Trouble Started Early
Upon arrival at Delta's check-in, the agent advised us that our initial flight was delayed for an hour, and the delay would be a big problem for our connecting flights. After some wrangling, she managed to book us on an American Airlines flight just to Dallas, where we could resume our original flight plans. Of course, that wouldn't be easy. The American flight left a little earlier than our Delta flight, so we were already running behind. We rushed through the New Orleans airport, wrestling enough luggage for our planned 19 day trip to the American Airlines counter. We arrived just in the nick of time, checking our bags with less than 5 minutes to spare for the flight. We rushed through the security checkpoint, and straight onto the awaiting plane for the first leg of our journey.
The flight itself was uneventful, and provided a brief respite from the already hurried pace of our travels. However, once we landed in Dallas, we were off to the races again. Our airline switch in Dallas required changing terminals. We left the secured area in the American Airlines terminal and caught a bus to the Delta terminal. Once there, we had to go back to the ticket counter to be checked in for our international flight. As the minutes until our connecting flight ticked off one by one, we encountered another hurdle for the day.
"Who are you traveling with today?"
Mexican authorities are very strict about children traveling into the country. For example, if a child is traveling into the country with only one parent, the other parent must provide a signed and notarized document proving that the travel is permissible. We were aware of that, but we knew it didn't apply to us since we were both traveling with our child. What we did not know is that a passport is not considered sufficient documentation for the child. Since a passport does not indicate who the birth parents of the child are, the airline wanted a birth certificate in addition to our son's passport. Of course, we didn't have that with us. Upon discovering that, the Delta agent frowned for a moment and disappeared into the offices behind the counter for a while. After about 5 minutes, she returned, and called our son over. She asked: "Matthew, who are you traveling with today?" Our son pointed to us and said "These guys." She asked "And who are they?" To our great relief, he said "My mom and Dad, silly!" Having our entire vacation plans hinge on the correct answer of a six-year old boy was an interesting feeling. Knowing our son, he could have just as easily answered something silly, like "I don't know, I met them this morning."
Finally cleared by the airline, we were off to the races again, having to clear security once more, and of course, our layover time wasn't calculated for that extra process. Nonetheless, we made it safely aboard our scheduled Delta flight from Dallas to Mexico City, a flight actually operated by AeroMexico. Upon boarding the plane, we were greeted with "Buenos Dias", our first indication that we were on our way out of the States.
Twenty-Three Million People
Mexico City is simply huge. Despite being located in a valley surrounded by mountains, the city stands at an elevation of more than 7000 feet above sea level. At the time, it was the most populated city in the world with an estimated 23 million inhabitants. Unfortunately, it also may deserve the title of the most polluted city in the world, and the smog is the first thing you see when arriving by air. The surrounding mountains hem in the emissions produced by traffic and industry, and as a result, the air quality of the city is often dangerously poor. That was just one of many things on my mind when we landed.
"No Gate? No Boarding."
Exiting the plane, we were led on a long walk to Mexican immigration, where we stood in line and eventually provided our passports to an immigration officer. After clearing Immigration, we checked the airport monitors for our connecting flight information. Our flight was indicated at Gate B, but all the gates we saw were numbers instead. Finally, we found the area of the airport marked B, and learned that this was where passengers waited when their flight had not yet been assigned a departure gate. There we waited for a gate announcement. We waited and waited, and the time for our scheduled departure came and went. More disturbing was that the monitors indicated our flight status as 'Boarding' (actually 'Abordado') but there was still no gate assigned. I asked one of the girls providing information about this puzzling development, and she answered "No gate? No boarding." I went back to wait.
We found two seats in the crowded B area, and waited some more. Finally, I asked someone else, who recommended that I head further down the airport to an AeroMexico counter and inquire about the flight status. There was a large crowd gathered around the counter, in front of two airline agents who were attempting to answer all the questions. Both spoke very little English, and the best I was able to understand from them after getting to the front of the line was that there was no information about our flight, and I should check back in an hour. I'm pretty sure that 'Una hora mas' was just a way to get rid of me, but nonetheless I headed back to my seat to continue the wait.
The Purgatory of Gate B
Gate B was a pretty busy place. There were passengers headed for many destinations, some of whose flights were delayed for one reason or another. An elderly couple awaited their fate after a tiring day of travel. After a while, the woman became tired and wanted to take a short nap, but being self-conscious about sleeping in a public place, she covered her head with a magazine and slumped against her chair for a few minutes. Their destination was Mexicali in Baja California. The Mexicali passengers and the Guanajuato passengers waited, while flight after flight to Guadalajara, Monterrey and Puerto Vallarta boarded and departed. There we were still, in the airport purgatory of gate B.
Two Hundred People in Line
It was there in the gate area that I met the Dunns, an American couple from Dallas who were in exactly our situation. After the Dunns and other passengers had gotten the same unhelpful answers at the counter nearest us, we decided to head to a different customer service booth for AeroMexico. I left Jan and Matthew in the gate area and walked down the terminal to the customer service desk. The single file line of customers waiting for assistance stretched quite a distance down the terminal, and I estimated there were two hundred people in line! Even worse, there was only one overwhelmed airline agent behind the counter. That was no help. I'd be there all night if I stood in that line.
Cancelled
Instead, I headed downstairs to the main AeroMexico ticket counter, bypassed a lengthy line of passengers checking in for their flights and managed to ask a question of one of the agents. Finally, I was told that our 5:30 PM flight had been cancelled about an hour ago, though the airport monitors still indicated the flight would depart from good ol' gate B. I asked how that would be handled, and the agent told me I should go retrieve our bags from baggage claim, and return to the check-in counter where arrangements would be made for us.
The first attempt to find our bags was ineffective, as I was sent from the AeroMexico baggage office to the furthest luggage carousel in a complete waste of time. Back to the baggage office a second time, and finally someone disappeared for a while and came back holding one of our bags. He continued bringing bags until there was a large pile of bags from our scheduled flight. Finally, I returned to gate B to get my family, expecting to be shuttled to a hotel, and rescheduled on a flight to Guanajuato in the morning.
With the assistance of our skycap, we were headed back to the check-in counter when we ran across the Dunns once again, and Ann's exclamation started another part of our long travel day. "Hurry, follow us, and this woman can get you on a bus to León!"
A Bus Doesn't Sound So Bad
Information was the one commodity that had been in very short supply since we landed in Mexico City. Our flight had been scheduled to depart at 5:30 PM. It was now 9:30 PM, and we were tired and still trying to make sense of it all. A bus didn't sound so bad, though I knew the trip would be lengthy. My split-second decision was made. We would follow the AeroMexico lady out of the airport and hopefully onto a bus for a late-night ride to Guanajuato.
What the Guidebooks Say About Driving at Night
Every guidebook I've ever read about Mexico includes a few paragraphs discouraging the reader from ever driving in Mexico at night. They describe numerous pitfalls, and generally imply that the Mexican roads at night are full of banditos, wandering livestock and unmarked detours around collapsing bridges. It sounds as though a large percentage of those who depart for these night-time adventures never return.
Two Trips to the Pemex
But of course we were going to be riding in a bus provided by the airline. Surely this would be safe, right? After a brief and hectic few minutes on the curb at the airport, we were moved next to a row of waiting vans. I had our porter load our bags into the back of one of the vans, and after tipping everyone in sight, we climbed into the van and began to wonder about what the night held in store for us. A few minutes later, it became apparent that we were to be the only passengers in the van. Apparently the Dunns and the other passengers to our destination had filled other vans at the curb, and we seemed to be the overflow. The driver conversed in Spanish with a few people, and I looked around to see no sign of the friendly AeroMexico rep with the red bow in her hair.
Moments later, the driver climbed in and I used my limited Spanish language skills to confirm that we were indeed headed to the León/Guanajuato airport. And then, we were off, dodging taxicabs in the lanes of the airport. We stopped at a Pemex fuel station and filled the van, then made a long loop around the airport to a yard full of vans identical to ours, all bearing an AeroMexico logo. We stopped there, and the driver was given some cash, undoubtably for expenses and fuel, as well as some tickets for tolls along the way. Surprisingly to us, we continued back around the airport a second time, and found ourselves again at the Pemex station. I stumbled through a few questions and answers with the driver, and determined that we were waiting for other vans to be refueled, after which we would all depart together, or at least that's what I thought he said.
A Detour Into the Barrio
After all the preparations, we were happy to finally pull away from the Pemex station into the crowded traffic of Mexico City. Even at 10 PM on a Thursday night, many of the roads were clogged with traffic, and as is typical on the roads in Mexican cities, the lane markings mean little. If four cars will fit abreast on a road marked for two lanes, the drivers make it a four-lane road. In fits and starts we made our way along, and we assumed we were headed for the highway. Instead of turning onto larger and larger thoroughfares as we expected, we seemed to be finding streets that were narrower and narrower. Finally, as it became apparent that we were headed into the barrio instead of toward the highway, we came to a stop. I was able to comprehend just enough of the driver's explanation to understand that we were at his house, where he wanted to run inside for a few minutes to shave and change clothes. When he left us waiting in the van on the street, deep in Mexico City, my wife really thought I had finally done us in. Who's to say this driver doesn't plan to simply rob us and leave us abandoned or dead? I spent the few minutes while we waited reassuring my wife and son that we would be fine, though it certainly was a leap of faith at the time. Moments later, our driver returned to the van, and I was encouraged by the sight of him bringing a blanket and pillow from his home, presumably with our son's comfort in mind. He introduced us to his wife who waved goodbye from the door of their home.
We turned back onto the busy streets of Mexico City and headed for the highway. With the slow traffic and the sheer size of Mexico City, it took more than an hour to finally reach the main highway outside the city. Still nervous about our situation, we called our family at home via cellphone, letting them know that we'd last been seen on a van provided by AeroMexico, headed for the León/Guanajuato airport.
A Change of Destination
Our actual destination for the night was a hotel in central Guanajuato, which is said to be a $33 cab fare from the León/Guanajuato airport. When I asked the driver if there would be cabs available at the early morning hour when we would arrive, he recommended instead that he drive us to our destination, and we could pay him instead. I heartily agreed and now we were no longer headed to the airport at all. I was thrilled to have one less thing to worry about tonight. Now we just needed to arrive in one piece. Our driver told us that the drive would take about 3 and a half hours, but I was having trouble understanding whether our new destination was closer or further than the airport. I wished I had looked a little closer at the maps of the area now. While I had my guidebook in my bags, there was no light in the van to see it, so I just gave up that line of thought.
The Autopista
Once we passed our first toll booth and entered the Mexican autopista, our speed increased dramatically. On the still-narrow lanes of the Mexican toll highway, we passed truck after truck pulling the double trailers that are no longer permitted in the US for safety reasons. Time after time we'd squeeze by these huge monsters of the road with little room to spare between our side mirror and the speeding trucks. Climbing over the mountains surrounding Mexico City and descending the other side, the road weaved around the mountain passes, and we zoomed along, wondering about our safety.
So it went for a couple of hours. Occasionally, I'd practice my Spanish with the driver, asking about the area, his family, and telling him about our vacation plans. Jan and Matthew napped on and off, as the night stretched longer and longer.
And Then It Rained
As the road signs passed, we saw plenty of references to the city of Querétaro, but none mentioning Guanajuato. I figured that maybe we would see Guanajuato signs after we reached Querétaro, but this was just another thing to add worry to our adventure. The road stretched on and on, and then, in the black Mexican night, the rain started. An intense downpour made the winding road look as deadly as the guidebooks had described, and our level of tension was cranked up again. Fortunately, after maybe half an hour of passing trucks on the wet road, the rain subsided, and we had survived another threat.
After passing Querétaro, we still didn't see signs mentioning Guanajuato, but we did occasionally see other towns mentioned that I recognized from the guidebook. I hoped we were on the right path. Unfortunately, the driver's estimate of three and a half hours came and went, and it was apparent that we weren't yet getting close to our final stop. Using the few mileage signs that we saw, along with my memory of the distances involved from my guidebook, the driver and I estimated our arrival in Guanajuato at 2 AM.
The Driver Starts to Nod
Later, in the darkness of the van, with Jan and Matthew occasionally dozing off on the back bench seat, I noticed our driver holding the steering wheel with stiff arms and repositioning himself on the seat. I recognized those signs of sleepy driving, and I had yet another worry in what seemed an endless list of them. With the dark road filled with speeding trucks, a sleepy driver sounded like the worst possible situation. Fortunately, without saying anything, I think our driver realized the same thing. Moments later, we pulled over at a Pemex station for a short bathroom break. To my surprise, another AeroMexico van pulled up and stopped with us! Apparently, one of the other vans really had joined us on the road sometime after we left Mexico City.
That was a relief, and I again relaxed a little. However, thirty minutes further down the road, our driver again was showing signs of fatigue. When he asked if I would like to stop for coffee, I gladly agreed. Again both vans stopped briefly. Once we resumed our trek, I asked if the other van was still headed to the airport, and the driver told me that no, they were headed to the city of Guanajuato as well now. Moments later, the other van pulled adjacent to us in the other lane, beeped the horn once, and sped away. I was perfectly content to remain at our current speed, even if it meant losing our companion van. Luckily, our driver felt the same way.
"Guanajuato: 50 Kilometres, Más o Menos"
Finally, signs mentioning Guanajuato began to appear, though the distance on them was unpredictable. We passed a sign that said Guanajuato was 55 kilometers ahead, then one that claimed 48, followed by one that said 53. I joked with the driver: "Guanajuato: 50 kilometres, mas o menos." Gradually the numbers on the signs decreased, and roughly an hour later than our prediction, we rolled into the outskirts of the city.
Hiring a Guide at 3 AM
As our final challenge of the night, we had to find our hotel in Guanajuato. The guidebooks all describe Guanajuato as a city that you don't want to drive in, because the streets are narrow, confusing, and many of them dip into underground tunnels that interconnect under the city. During the day, it is said that many of the young residents of Guanajuato stand at the tunnel entrances, offering to be navigators for hire, helping visitors around the confusing city. At 3 AM of course, there would be no young guides. Our driver solved that problem in a hurry, by stopping and hiring a taxi to lead us to El Jardin, the central garden where we knew our hotel was located. We followed the taxi through a surreal route up narrow lanes, around tight curves, into tunnels underneath the city, and finally we came to a stop in a curve, where the taxi driver indicated 'El Jardin'. Traffic wasn't permitted into the garden, so I had to ask both the taxi driver and our driver to help with the bags, and we wandered into the Jardin.
Hotel Luna
After a few moments of looking around the darkened plaza, we found the Hotel Luna, locked up tight at three in the morning. However, a few knocks on the door brought two very helpful young men to the door, and in no time at all, we were shown through a dark but obviously attractive hotel to our room. Collapsing into bed after a 20 hour travel day, we slept late the next morning. When we finally awoke, we were glad to be safe and sound, thrilled to be deep in the heart of colonial Mexico, and astonished by our beautiful surroundings.
And that was just day one of our nineteen day adventure in Mexico.
Photos
- Photos: Guanajuato and the Bus Trip to San Miguel
- Photos: San Miguel de Allende, Photo Set 1
- Photos: San Miguel de Allende: More views, Matthew's School, Bullfight
(The dark clouds in the handful of bullfight photos led to a torrential downpour and an early exit.) - Photos: Two SMA homes: The SMA House and Garden Tour
- Photos: The last batch of San Miguel photos
- Photos: Pozos: An abandoned silver mining town
Pozos was once a city of 60,000, but now the population is under 200. Talk about Boom to Bust!
We looked around at the ruins of the silver mines, and even descended into one of them with the help of a local guide.
(Click on the small photos on these pages to see a full-size picture.)
As a first look, here's a photo from the main square of San Miguel de Allende, looking up at the moon and the church "La Paroquia".
