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the personal website of sebastian barney

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The [Mexican] Castle

The Castle is great Australian movie. It is about a couple of families who lives at the end of Sydney Airport’s runway. They are having their land requisitioned so that the runway can be extended as part of an airport expansion. Like Sydney Airport, the airport in Mexico City is too small. But unlike in The Castle, there are more than just four houses at the end of a cul-de-sac bounding the airport.

Flying into Mexico City was like flying into Ronneby, my local airport in Sweden. Except where Ronneby is black with scattered dots of lights from the sky, Mexico City glows orange with scattered dots of dark. When we got low enough to see the buildings I became concerned. We were getting lower and lower, and I hadn’t seen any break in the sea of apartment blocks that could possibly fit even a small aircraft, and the last time I checked the A320 was not so good at landing on an apartment block roof. But directly after one last row of apartment blocks the runway started and plane landed safely. All I could think about was all the suburbs of Sydney that complain about airport noise …

The trip to Mexico was much smoother than I expected. While the new American electronic visas were a last minute surprise, I was able to fill out the required forms online without any problems. The planes were on-time and the airport security moved quickly.

The Airport in Los Angeles was, however, a mess. They are currently in the middle of renovations, and have created a confusing rabbit for passengers to navigate. The staff are obviously aware of the situations, but instead of being angry and frustrated, were friendly and helpful with their infamous American hospitality.

But I was very surprised at my path through the airport. My stop-over in LA was short. Rushed in fact. But I diligently followed my way through passport control, baggage claim and customs – as all people transferring were informed to do. I was able to drop my bags off after customs so that they could continue their journey to Mexico, and I was given directions to the end of another queue to get my boarding pass for the flight to Mexico City. After some time in the queue I realised I had been admitted into the United States of America and was not queuing for my boarding pass, but a taxi.

After some further investigation I was able to check-in nearby. This too was a surprise, as the person who checked me in either couldn’t or at least refused to speak English. After informing him of my minimal skill in Spanish to no effect, I realised I understood and proceeded in broken Spanish.

I went through security and found my way to my gate, and then became worried as I had not passed through passport control to leave the country. But I figured it was not possible to inadvertently walk through a major security checkpoint in a US airport without being well aware of the fact. If not, my parents would be informed how to collect the body.

After arriving safely in Mexico I was taken to Oziel’s parents house by Oziel, his sister and his mother for some sleep after waking in Sweden, having breakfast in Denmark, lunch in London and dinner in LA.

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