22 hours and in Mexico City

My plane apparently left without me on it.

This is what happened next:

I dashed back to immigration to ensure that I was kosher to get on the next flight.

Busting a sweat in front of the immigration officer, I met two young women who had also missed the flight. They looked much more relaxed than I.

They invited me for a night out on the town. I thought for a split second if that was a good idea and decided it was an excellent one.

After a taxi ride that felt like a cross-continental light itself — we arrived at a chic urban bar. Much drinking ensued. Much Mescal and all sorts of other stiff drinks flowed.

I remember loud, galloping, and passionate Spanish. It was intoxicating as I got intoxicated

There were just so many colors. I believe they were real. Or it could have been my buzz. I think both.

We fumbled back to the airport in the early morning. I inhaled coffee and other sugary items and this time got on the plane.

I arrived in Santiago Chile with a grin on my face.

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