I dragged myself out of bed in time to have a little breakfast on the terrace before having to leave for the airport for my flight to Mexico. The flight is 11 hours, which frankly seems a bit extreme. Luckily, I was able to fly business class.
For obvious reasons, the security at Heathrow is insane. When you fly business class, you get to go through “fast track” security at British Airways. But, really, the lines are still incredibly long. I think I’ve gotten the packing down to a system, but I have the reverse luck of the Irish at airports. I’m always getting “randomly” searched. This time, I was pulled out of the security line to go through the super-duper-extra-special x-ray machine. You are required to put your carry-on through the regular x-ray machine and then you have to stand in front of a giant machine and strike two or three superhero poses as the thing scans you for any IEDs you may have hidden in your drawers. I didn’t complain thought, because this ended up getting me through security much more quickly. I just hope I don’t find myself on one of those “Aren’t Regular People Hilarious??” shows on the Beeb.
On airplanes, you pick up everything but boys and money. I landed in Mexico City with a sore throat and several suspicious hairs sticking to my jacket. Again, I was one of the 0.001% of people who get subjected to a random search upon arrival. Really? What do they think I’m smuggling into Mexico?
Before the trip, I had been given a terrifying orientation by a well-meaning colleague on the dangers of Mexico City. The most panic inducing was the story of “Express Kidnappings” wherein a nefarious character intercepts a driver on the way to the airport to pick up a fare and then stands outside customs with a sign with your name on it. Once you are in the car, they drive you to an ATM machine and make you withdraw as much cash as possible. The really ambitious ones keep you until after midnight, and then make you withdraw more cash. Best case scenario, they drive you back to the airport. Worst case… well you get the idea.
As my colleague suggested, I got myself into an authorised taxi. Other colleagues arriving that night reported that their driver had not been kidnapped and that they had made it to the hotel intact. (Lucky!)
The upside of the trip is that we are all staying at the Four Seasons – a fabulous hotel. I’m hoping to get some free time to sit at the pool.
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