We began this journey two days ago, driving down to Stratford-upon-Avon, immersing ourselves in some Shakespearian culture before continuing South to the Hilton T5 hotel last night. Although a tad expensive, it was a most pleasant way to start the holiday.

This morning we woke up with our usual 6am alarm. Breakfast was a pre-packed vegan croissant and a cup of Typhoo tea in our room before we made our way to the front of the hotel just in time for the 8:30am Hoppa Bus to Heathrow's terminal 5.

It was possibly the smoothest of check-ins. We dropped off our rucksacks and waltzed through security with the minimum of fuss. It took only forty five minutes from leaving the hotel to being sat in the Pilots Bar sipping our first drinks of the morning.

I had what has now become my traditional airport breakfast drink of Bloody Mary and Julie had a glass of wine.

Another specifically Heathrow terminal 5 tradition was to visit Tiffany & Co to see the same diamond encrusted ring,  the one Julie will buy when we win the lottery. The price had now gone up again to almost £9000! 

Then, breaking with tradition we snubbed Fortnum & Mason's Champagne Bar and opted for the Caviar House & Prunier Seafood Bar. It would seem an odd choice for a vegetarian but on their menu they had this scrambled egg with black summer truffle dish which sounded delcious.

It wasn't. I've had nicer scrambled eggs in a Wetherspoons pub.

I prefer my scrambled egg gently cooked, creamy and soft not microwaved, dry and rubbery; also at £23 I was expecting shavings of fresh truffle not few blobs of paste. It was an expensive mistake. I won't be coming back. Although Julie thoroughly enjoyed her bagel as Kevin, the bartender/waiter/chef piled on the thick cut smoked salmon. 

After deviating from our routine we returned to comfort of tradition, buying a bottle of champagne and a Tolberone from Duty Free on our way to The Crown Rivers, a  Wetherspoon Pub. I almost ordered a side of scrambled egg with my Corona beer but thought better of it.

From where we were sat I could see the departures board and before we could say Guadalajara our gate number was up. For the 12:40 to Mexico City (BA243) - Go to gate B39.

Our main destination for this trip was Guatemala, we had some unfinished business there after fleeing for the Mexican border in 2020 when the COVID pandemic hit the world. Specifically we didn't reach the Mayan temples of Tikal. We had to return.

But first we had the exciting propspect of 3 nights in Mexico City 

Gate B39 was quite some distance away. It even involved a shuttle train to reach it.

"Oh no, it looks like there's a bus replacement service" I joked as we saw the buses waiting to shuttle us to our aeroplane parked miles away. With standing room only it was an uncomfortable ride. It felt a lot longer than the few minutes it took.  

We boarded our Boeing 787 Dreamliner with its shiny Rolls Royce engine and made our way past the amazing first class seats, wishing for that one day when it happens, then all the way through the plush wide seats of Premium Economy and all the way to the back, next to the toilets.

We had even paid extra for the privilege of sitting here because this was where the plane narrowed, and the seats were made for two, not three. It was nice not to have to spend the next 12 hours sat next to a complete stranger.  

Twenty five minutes later than scheduled we hurtled down the runway.

An hour or so later, somewhere over the Outer Hebridies, lunch was served where Julie had her first ever experience of thoroughly enjoying the "plane food".  It was a Sunday roast dinner in a tin, with pieces of chicken, stuffing, roast potatoes, peas, carrots and gravy. She couldn't believe her luck.

Mine was less inspiring roasted veg and boiled rice but tasty enough. However, Brewdog's special edition Speed Bird OG Transatlantic IPA washed it down nicely.

I began to watch the film Oppenheimer about the man behind the atomic bomb, the ones dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945. It was an excellent movie, although I couldn't hear the dialogue very well and there was a lot of it. 

Julie couldn't focus on watching anything. She would flick through things on the screen, not decide on anything, then switch to the flight progress information and look out the window.

There wasn't much to see until we flew over the Southern tip of Greenland where we saw its spectacular landscape.

This moment coincided with us experiencing for the first and only time some terrible  turbulence. It came out of the blue as the plane shook quite aggressively. Whilst I was trying to get a decent photograph of the stunning islands and fjords below us Julie was climbing the walls finding the whole experience unbearable.

It lasted for several minutes.

The windows themselves were interesting. There was no shutter to open or close, instead there was a dimmer button that electronically controlled the window's transparency from clear to near black out. They could also be remotely controlled by the cabin crew, for example for take off and landing, where with windows must be open and clear.

I returned to the movie selection and watched a Japanese film called The Legend and Butterfly. To be honest I hardly remember it now but it did help pass the time.

Julie spent most of the time tracking our progress over Canada and the USA noticing strangely familiar names like Nain, (Welsh for grandmother), Conwy (a town in Wales).  There wasn't much to see out the windows so we tried to get some sleep. Most of the next few hours were spent with our eyes shut but neither one of us succeeding in getting some sleep. 

A late supper arrived which Julie turned away but I could never refuse. My Tex-Mex-style bean chilli was quite nice.

Then at about midnight for our body clocks or 6pm local time we began our decent to Benito Juárez International Airport. It was so exciting to see the suburbs of this sprawling metropolis. 

The landing was so gentle we almost didn't realise we had touched down.

Inside the terminal there was the smallest of queues at the passport control. The process for us was fully automated. With our biometrics checked we were allowed to enter the country without any human interaction.

It was strangely anti-climatic. I love the sound of that stamp hitting the passport but all we received was a slip of paper with our entry details printed on it, which we aslo had to keep safe for when we leave the country.

We stood at baggage reclaim waiting for our rucksacks. My blue Eurohike bag arrived reasonably prompt but there was no sign of of Julie's red one.

"Here we go again" sighed Julie.

We waited and waited. There were a few of us hovering around still waiting. One by one their bags arrived and they would leave.  It was only us and a member of the cabin crew left. We had now moved to the point where the bags first come in. Oddly enough there were some uncollected bags still going around and around.

"There it is!" we both shouted in joy, almost giddy with excitement. It was an enormous relief. The moment it came through the baggage handlers switched off the conveyor belt and closed the hatch. It literally was the last bag. 

 The cabin crew lady was still waiting for hers. 

Out in the arrivals lounge a herd of pick-up drivers held up names of their clients but we couldn't see ours anywhere. With the delay in collecting our luggage we were now over an hour since we landed and the driver must have left. I tried phoning the number on the booking confirmation but it failed with an invalid error.

There was only one thing for it, we had to get a taxi. There was plenty of unofficial taxi drivers soliciting rides but we walked straight to the taxi booths. There were a couple of companies to choose from.

As I walked towards them the two who were available began smiling, waving, flirting for my attention. It felt a little uncomfortable as if I was walking into a brothel.

I put my head down, stared at the floor and walked to the booth in the corner. We paid $325 (£15) for a taxi to the Zocalo, the main central square. I knew exactly where our hotel was from there.

The driver asked us more precisely where we wanted to go. He had never heard of Mumedi Design Hotel so  I entered the name into the satnav on his phone.

It only took us twenty minutes but it was dark when we arrived in the city centre. The main square was closed to vehicles so we were dropped of an the corner of Isabel La Católica and the pedestrianised street of Avendida Francisco I. Madero

I had walked down this street before, virtually on Google maps' Street View so I had a good idea where to find the entrance to our hotel.

It didn't feel like a traditional hotel. It didn't have a lobby or a reception desk. The ground floor was entirely a cafe/restaurant. We walked up to the "Please wait to be seated" sign where we were met by a young blonde haired girl. She certianly wasn't Mexican, she spoke good English with a slightly Nordic accent.

We followed her upstairs to the office where we met the boss, a short guy in a suit who was definitely Mexican. She stayed to translate whilst we went through the check-in process.

With all the formalities done the boss insisted on carrying both our rucksacks up to our room.  Their combined weight was over 32kg.

Our room was on the top floor. He struggled and had to stop a few times to catch his breath. I offered to take one of the bags but again he insisted. Not wanting to offend I didn't offer again. By the time we reached the room he was huffing and puffing and sweating profusely.

The room was beautiful in an industrial warehouses style with a high ceiling and exposed brick wall. We had a brief tour of the two rooms, drawing our attention to the complimentary desserts waiting for us on the table and the coffee machine in the corner . There was also a shared common room where we could get some coffee.

Despite feeling exhausted we went out for a walk to the Zocalo where we saw the beautiful illuminated Metropolitan Cathedral.  Unfortunately it was partially covered in scaffolding which is so often the case when you visit some major attraction and is  always annoying.

Julie hadn't eaten for almost twelve hours, since her "roast dinner in a tin", so we decided to find somewhere to eat. I knew of a restaurant not far away. After a few minutes of walking and several "are you sure you know where you're going?" we came to a extravagantly lit entrance.

We decided to walk inside because it looked inviting but it turned out to be where we wanted to be, restaurant Azul Historico.

I had made a reservation for tomorrow but then cancelled because we had other plans. 

It opened out into a lovely courtyard. Diners were seated amongst tall spindly leafless trees. We walked up to the Front of House and asked hopefully if they had a table for two. "Not now" he said "perhaps in twenty minutes".

It was very popular, which is always a good sign. So we decided to wait for a table. We gave him my name and sat near the entrance. Twenty seconds later we heard him call "Colin?"

 We were whisked to our table in the centre of the courtyard. Stood next to it was a short coat stand, not much taller than the table.  "That's really clever" I thought. We didn't have a coat between us but I did hang my bag on it.

Before the menu arrived an amuse bouche was brought to the table. It was olive and tomatoes in a marinade and utterly delcious.

The menu arrived. I liked the what I saw because they had labelled all the dishes that were suitable of vegetarians.

Julie and I had a good chuckle when we saw the chef's (Ricardo Munoz Zurita) cheesy grin on the back.

I wasn't hungry but I was so excited I wanted to try everything on the menu that I could. I compromised and settled on a starter of Tamalito de Chaya, small corn tamales with a green leafy veg.

The waiter asked if I wanted one or two. "They're only small" he said.

Minutes later two large bowls arrived, each with a sizeable tamales sat in a pool of spicy tomato sauce. He placed one in front of Julie. She took a bite of the tamalito and scrunched her nose. To be fair I wasn't a big fan either. The flavour of the corn maize was an aquired taste.

Not wanting to offend I ate all of mine and all of Julie's. They were very filling.

Next up came the main courses. We had both gone for a Mole Poblano one of the most popular Mexican moles, or sauces. Julie's came poured over a chicken breast, sprinkled with sesame seeds and served with an odd side of rice with cashew nuts and pineapple. 

I had my sauce poured over cheese filled enchiladas. Once again the taste was a little unfamiliar. There was a distinctive flavour that our palet hadn't experienced before. I don't know how to describe it. It had almost a musty taste?

But it was a grower and in the end we both cleared our plates.

Neither of us wanted dessert, although I thought about finishing the evening with a mezcal, tequila's smokey sister. They had an extensive menu. However, before I could order the spirit our bill arrived, time to pay and leave. They must have needed our table. At $1384 pesos (£66) it felt a bit expensive for what we had.

On the way back the streets were empty, all the shops had closed, all the shutters were up, including our hotel's. For a brief moment we worried we hadn't listened to any "after hours" information about how to get back inside.

Thankfully when we got there we saw the door to the side was accesible. It was shut but unlocked, much to our relief. The Night Watchwoman came to check who we were and let us pass.

Back in our room, after spending ten minutes figuring how the black out blinds worked (one was with a remote control the other was manual, just to confuse us) we were ready for bed. It had been a long day.