Our journey to Cancun airport passed without incident, apart from some ridiculously cheeky attempt at price gouging from the taxis from the ferry terminal to Cancun airport.
When we first got off the ferry we were told, in English, that the price for a 25 minute journey would be 65 US dollars (loads of people just use dollars around Cancun and the coast). I quickly replied in Spanish, offering 500 pesos (25 dollars, as I had been told the price by our taxi driver back on Isla Mujeres). They realised that we weren’t gringos, and after a bit of negotiating we settled on 600 pesos.
Much better.
For some reason that neither of us remembered, I had booked our return flights from Mexico City. So, a month or so ago when it became clear our travels would be ending along Yucatan peninsula, we had to waste a fair bit of time and foreign call charges to change our return flight to leave from Cancun. As an added bonus, the fact that it included a brief layover in Miami meant we had the extra joys of having to complete US ESTA forms, go through immigration, and take a covid test. (Next time I’ll just book the flights right first time!)
Our journey back took us through the bastions of fast food that are Cancun and Miami airports.
Our flight out with BA had included some atrociously disappointing grub, so this time around we wanted to make sure we were well fueled before sitting through the ‘plane journey. Cue a (large and expensive) burger in Cancun airport, and a (underwhelming and expensive) bagel in Miami. Give me a Pret sandwich, let alone some tacos Al Pastor, any day.
I barely slept on the overnight flight from Miami to London.
It was cramped and uncomfortable, and I struggled to doze off – I found the light pollution really bad, for some reason (doesn’t usually affect me that much). I got over it by watching Get Out, which was excellent, and then I ploughed through two and a half of the three Jason Bourne films, which were also pretty great. The food, this time from American Airlines, was also a fair bit better.
The last little leg of our journey was the mirror image of our departure, sitting on the Piccadilly line with our enormous backpacks, trying not to get in the way of commuters.
It’s been a beautiful two months. I feel really lucky and privileged to have been able to travel, and it’s felt like a genuine break and switch-off for me, which I really felt like I needed after my PhD.
Charlotte has already started her new job today, and I begin mine in two weeks, so this is the end of the formal blog, but I’ll do a few rounding-off posts in the next few days.
If you have been reading, thank you for sticking with us!
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