I had gone to bed early, and I wake up early. Earlier than the 4:45 am that my alarm was set for. We all get ready and leave the house more or less at our desired departure time. Nicholas is going with us to the airport, to go back to Italy with his girlfriend, Tizzy. They will meet up in New York.
We arrive at the airport and get in line at Southwest. We have never flown Southwest to Mexico before, and don’t realize there is an international line, and we are in the regular line. When it is finally our turn we are told we have to go to a different counter to check in for an international flight. Nicholas gets checked in and waits for us. I am missing flying Frontier, where Zung was a frequent flier and there was a special, always very short line for special people like us. People who fly too much, and their wives who don’t, but are happy to reap the benefits. Then I remember how uncomfortable the Frontier seats were and I get over my nostalgia.
Security lines have been so slow the last couple of days that it is has made the news. Southwest is in Terminal C, but we went through security at Terminal A, because the lines are so much shorter. Then we take the train to Terminal C. We look for a restaurant to get some breakfast. All of a sudden Nicholas realizes he doesn’t have his carry-on bag (add “forgetful” to “doesn’t follow directions”). He thinks he left it on the train and reports it to security. We get a table at the restaurant, Root Down and Zung says he thinks Nicholas left the bag at security. It turns out, Zung is right. Nicholas leaves to retrieve it, and a crisis is averted.
We order our food.
I only have time for one Mimosa.
I do not keep track of how many coffees Zung has time for.
The food is good. If you are in Terminal C, or have a long layover and can go to Terminal C, I highly recommend it.
Nicholas has returned, with his bag. He says it is my fault he left it there because I made him use Purell on his hands after we went through security. Of course I did. I informed him that he has just touched all those bins, that had all of humanity touching them, and now their germs are colonizing on them and now, colonizing on our hands. Kill those germs with Purell!
Nicholas orders his food, but we have to leave just as his food arrives. We do however have time to pay the check. Of course we do.
We go to our gate. Southwest does not assign seats, they assign you a place in line, and paying more gets you a better place in line. You can pay even more to get an even better spot in line, and I inquire as to how much that might be. It’s an outrageous, $40 per person, per flight. We pass. When we board we realize that what a lot of people do is have one person pay for the upgrade and then save seats for the rest of their party. I am aggravated that Southwest allows this. We end up in Row 9, which is not too bad. Or it seems like a good spot, until I realize the guy behind us is acting a little unhinged. I don’t know if he is pre-gaming, or if there are other factors at hand. After he has an outburst about people talking too much, I give the flight attendant a heads up. I drink two rum and cokes and then I am no longer stressing about it. He falls asleep, so there are no more outbursts. When we land he actually helps Zung get his bag down from the overhead bin.
This is our first time in Cancun’s Terminal 2. We get off the plane, go up an escalator, go down two escalators and then arrive in Immigration. The lines are short. We wait for our bags. It is a larger, and hence, more chaotic terminal. We go through Customs and get the green light. As we walk through the gauntlet I have that, “Don’t even try to talk to me” look on my face, because I am not as sure as I usually am, where I am going. We get outside and find Canada Transfers, who quickly transport us to the Grand. Canada gives you cool cloths to wipe away the travel grungies, and bottles of cold water.
There is always a thrill of excitement when we turn into the Iberostar Paraiso complex.
I get an even bigger thrill when we drive up to the Grand.
It feels good to be “home.”