As people travel around the world, horror stories abound of terrible layovers, lost baggage, and missed connections on other people’s domestic airlines. People say the same thing about U.S. carriers (yeah, that’s you Spirit and United), but as I travel around Mexico for work assignments, I thought you might be curious to hear about my experiences with Aeromexico.
As far as Mexican air carriers go, Aeromexico is the big boy, as their slogan says, “La aerolinea que nos une.” That’s “The airline that unites us.” The hub, as with the entire country, is Mexico City.
Mexico City could serve as the subject of multiple blogs by multiple authors and you could read them all and still feel that you didn’t know the place. It is huge, chaotic, stunningly beautiful, filthy, gorgeous, gourmet, polluted, intense, historic, dingy, dangerous in parts, tranquil in others, and on and on. We will never run out of opinions, just like people will never run out of opinions about New York. With this swirling mass of humanity, you might expect there to be some stories floating around about mishaps at the airport, missed flights, people freaking out, mass panic, etc.
Oh yes, indeed. The horror stories are real. So, too, are the good stories, as we’ll see, but first a few words about the system…
Making a connection in Mexico City defies all logic. In fact, it obliterates it completely. Never have I seen an airport in such a developed place (because Mexico City really is a developed place) handle something as supposedly simple as a plane change in such a bizarre and ludicrous manner. For the record, even the Mexicans I have spoken to say the system is ridiculous, senseless, illogical, you know, fucked completely. It’s interesting that when a flight itinerary calls for connecting in Mexico City, Aeromexico’s reps at the check-in counter always try to get passengers an earlier flight if available, all the better to navigate the maze without hyperventilation. It would seriously look bad if people died of confusion; other travelers would have to step around the bodies.
Also for the record, I have been through my fair share of airline mishaps. It happens in life, like the urge to defecate. My longest delay has actually been three days (yep, days) on MIAT, Mongolian International Air Transport during my time in the Peace Corps. This happened on two separate occasions when a once-a-day flight from Ulaanbaatar to Uliastai could not fly due to inclement weather. As far as Mexico City goes, we’re not talking that kind of potential delay and we never will be. If we are, then God help us.
Nonetheless, back to the connection system. I find it useful at this point to draw a contrast between connections (on domestic flights, mind you) in the U.S. and Canada and connections here in Mexico. If, for example, you are flying from Portland to Salt Lake City and make a connection at SLC to Atlanta, you exit the plane in Salt Lake and find yourself able to walk to your connecting gate. Granted, this may be nearby or may be a hike, but at the very least you do not have to have your carry-ons re-inspected at a brand-new security checkpoint or have to wind your way through a maze of hallways and tunnels to get where you’re going.
In Mexico City, even while making a domestic connection, there are obstacles aplenty. They suck especially if you’re traveling with a tight window of time. If you arrive from a smaller city like Torreón or Mazatlán on a smaller Aeromexico Connect jet, you have to park away from the main terminal building and take a bus back to the main terminal. Not a huge deal (I’ve done this at places like JFK and LAX), only in Mexico City you will find a line of travelers in place waiting to bottleneck their way through a tunnel to a passage that reads “Conneciones.” Ok, so far, not so delayed, only now the line slows. Why? Well, good question, especially if you’re here for the first time. The answer is you must go through security again–doh! This could take awhile.
After reassembling yourself, more or less, you climb a couple flights of stairs (but please watch the third one on the left–there’s a hole in it!) Follow the signs–they are there, just not very obvious. Wind your way around another set of stairs and through another tunnel. Then and only then, if you don’t get lost along the way, will you spill back out into the main terminal where you can (hopefully) make your connection. I have to tell you: I am no architect, but I don’t think I would have designed it that way.
Everybody says the same thing: connecting in Mexico City is bizarre. Imagine the collective angst, then, a couple of weeks ago when an Aeromexico flight from Cancún to Mexico City was delayed 50 minutes on the ground and took off late, imperiling everybody’s connections in the hub of Mexico. I had been in Cancún for work (true, it doesn’t suck) and had been lulled into a dull slumber by the light streaming in the window and fallen asleep as we sat there on the tarmac. I remember a woman saying something about missing her connection later on, and then I fell asleep again. When I finally roused myself, we had long since taken off and were now an hour behind schedule. That would mean I had 17 minutes to make my connecting flight to Mazatlán once we landed.
I didn’t expect any help once I got there. Based on several experiences doing the same thing in the United States, I figured it would be everyone for themselves, from the desperate unloading of the plane to the people shouting “Get the fuck out of my way, I have a connection!” to the red faces to the obese people that were clearly struggling to the annoyances, the small children in the way, the endless corridors, the lack of signage, the third stair on the left, etc. Nightmare. Decent exercise, but missed flight. I expected that. What I found instead surprised me.
This time, a series of uniformed Aeromexico representatives greeted us as we squeezed out of the plane, calling out the connection destinations and pointing us toward the appropriate corridor (yes, there are two.) We ran. My neighbor had a connecting flight to Torreón, and thirteen minutes. A businessman next to me (who seemed otherworldly uncomfortable with his tie and any form of physical hustle) had to get to Tijuana, connecting time fifteen minutes. My time once we landed: fourteen minutes, no more, no less. I raced down the corridor. I passed my neighbors. I darted up the stairs.
At the top of the stairs, another Aeromexico representative met me, called out “¿Mazatlán?” and told me to hang on to things, run, and follow him. Cool! He took off like a world-class athlete. We ran. I stepped over a small child playing with a candy wrapper. The athlete cleared the way through the crowd, and in less than two minutes, with his assistance, I arrived at Gate 75D and boarded, with five whole minutes to spare. As I took my seat on the aircraft, I even saw my bag being loaded on the plane. Wow. Cool.
I am impressed by Aeromexico’s customer service, especially that afternoon in Mexico City. They did not have to help me navigate my way through the crowd at record speed. In all my years of travel, I have rarely experienced this level of assistance, and only one other airline (Alaska) delivers this consistently. Therefore, mad props to Aeromexico. No kidding, great job, and many thanks! Your airport may be completely asinine, but on this day you really kicked ass. We all appreciate it.
Signed,
On the Beach in Mazatlán