PHOTO GALLERY ONE (Arrival, Progreso, Family)

PHOTO GALLERY TWO (Family Reunion)

PHOTO GALLERY THREE (Mayan Ruins, Museum)

PHOTO GALLERY FOUR (Merida, Anthropology Museum, Dances)

PHOTO GALLERY FIVE (Progreso Malecon)
Well, this is the beginning of my first trip to Mexico in almost 20 years. Last time I was here was during my honeymoon. This time it's for my in-laws 50th anniversary celebration and a family reunion on my wife's side.

Last time I was here, I think I was sicker than I've ever been. One website euphemistically calls the problem “traveler's disease” - which is a nice way of saying “explosive decompression from every orifice.” So naturally, I was somewhat concerned for the new trip. I did some research and found a travel website which made some recommendations on how to avoid the problem and how to fix it if it does crop up.

Getting There

There were no decent flights from Tampa, so we arranged to fly out of the Orlando airport, leaving our van with some friends there. I had checked in earlier, selecting the seats for each leg of the trip. Naturally, when we arrived in Orlando, they had no record of our reservations (which were made via Expedia.com). Fortunately I had brought my printed itinerary, which had some number or something on it that helped them locate it. Then she proceeded to be helpful and arranged for us to have seats in the front of our Houston-to-Merida leg of the trip. Of course, the seats weren't together, but she said they could fix that once we arrived in Houston. A tiny alarm began to ring in the back of my mind.

Once all was sorted and we were seated the flight from Orlando to Houston was uneventful. We had
The Road to Progreso, from Merida. If you watch the Discovery Channel you've probably heard of Chicxulub. If not, Google it.
a two-hour layover in Houston, which was fortunate, because the gate we were directed to was on the other side of the world from the one we arrived at. And since it was Rocio's first time in Texas she wanted to stop at the shops. I talked her out of it, as I wanted to make sure we were properly checked in at the new gate. We did stop to have lunch, as Julie was hungry. And a quick stop in an airport shop to buy Julie a Texas t-shire. That little alarm in the back of my mind was getting louder.

Once we got to the new gate I immediately went up and asked them if they could get us three seats together. We were assigned to 5A, 5B, and 5D. The seat we needed was 5C to make it three in a row, and the attendant said she didn't think the other passenger would mind moving. Alarm blaring loudly now. Sure enough, the passenger in 5C, who bore a very strong resemblance to Mr. Creosote from “The Meaning of Life” was very adamant that he HAD to have 5C and would not budge.

Fortunately, Rocio happened to be sitting next to the passengers who were n 5E and 5F, so they were kind enough to swap with us. Upon getting on the plane we found that Mr Creosote had been unhappy with 5C and had moved into row 6. The seats in row 5 were the type with the solid armrests, and he apparently could not shoehorn his considerable bulk into the chair. Once everything had been hashed out, we were seated and the rest of the flight was uneventful.

Arrival in Merida was an interesting experience. One thing I've noted as I've traveled is that all airports – at least the ones I've been to in the USA, Mexico, and Puerto Rico – pretty much all smell alike. There must be a global retailer of airport cleaning products or something. The Customs experience was pretty quick. They have a light system in place where you push a button and if you get a green light you just go right through and a red light means they search each and every bag. I was praying hard for a green, because we had a total of NINE bags. Two of which were full of stuff for Rocio's family. All worked out well and we went on through. We hired a guy to help us out and he was tossing the bags around like a professional juggler, and I had to relieve him of the bag with the laptop and camera equipment as I was afraid all there would be was a bag of parts by the time he got through with it.
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Text and Photographs Copyright ©2006 by Michael Hanson, All Rights Reserved.