The passport fiasco solved, we re-board. The flight was less-than-full and quite uneventful - unless you count the amount of vodka tonics being consumed by us...but I digress...
The aeropuerto is set amid a gorgeous lush green jungle. I must admit to fleeting thoughts of WTC have I gotten myself into, but the area was really beautiful. The aeropuerto in PV is similar to Burbank´s - disembark outside of the airport itself. As I stepped out of the plane, I was smothered by the heat and humidity; my hair instantly frizzy. Fantastic - I´ll be frizzy and oily all week long. Woo hoooo.
We make our way into the building to Immagracion. Papers are filled out and (the best thing, by far) my passport gets stamped! :) I know, it´s only Mexico. But I got a passport stamp, baby! We follow the crowd toward baggage claim. M&M get their bags immediately. I wander around the conveyor thingy. And around. And around. And around. It doesn´t help that a) my bag is black, b) so are all the others coming off the plane, and c) it´s borrowed luggage so I´m not too familiar with it. Bags are being pulled off the conveyor and piled next to it. My insides turn liquid once again. (And mind you, they hadn´t quite gelled and reset from the passport in Vegas!) A million thoughts are running through my mind...but somewhere in there I vaguely hear - Riss-sa Dode-son? Riss-sa Dode-son? That could be my name, right? I turn to see my bag with some random dude in a purple vest standing next to a different conveyor thingy! WTC?! I run over, grab my bag and begin to settle down.
Then, we´re assaulted by a swarm of purple vested people and men yelling "Taxi! Taxi!" And it only gets better from here...
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