Up to this point, Miguel, Antonio and I have been en route from Cancun to Vancouver for two days. With over 4,300 kilometres down and a measly 205 to go, we touched down at the Seattle Tacoma airport late the night of April 8. But we still weren’t there yet. Exhausted, we learned there was no airport shuttle to transport us to our hotel, so we walked the kilometre and a half with our three suitcases, two carry-ons, two laptop bags, dog kennel and said dog loaded onto two rented luggage carts. When our heads finally hit the pillows, there are no words to describe that level of sleep.
Day three of our four-day milk-run-of-a-move back to Vancouver from Cancun and we awoke in our SeaTac airport hotel. Since our connecting flight today had no room for Antonio, we were forced to wait another 24 hours until we could fly onwards to Vancouver. For the first time in a long time we literally had nothing to do. No lists to check, documents to sort, furniture to sell, bags to pack. Nothing.
It was a beautiful Spring day and, while we knew to stay isolated in our room as much as possible, we had a dog who needed to get out. So we wrapped ourselves in what layers we had and escaped into the fresh Pacific Northwest air. With no particular destination in mind, we wandered down the main drag. We grabbed ourselves some breakfast and snacks, savoured two deliciously hot cups of Seattle coffee and stumbled upon two friendly older men at a park for a good old-fashioned chat (socially distanced, of course). Turns out, they were both from Mexico and enjoyed conversing with us in Spanish, meeting Antonio and hearing our story (and us theirs).
Back at the hotel, we settled in for a quiet evening watching TV, ordered Uber Eats for dinner, and prepared for the last leg of our journey.
Friday morning – almost four days since leaving Cancun, and we were actually going to make it. Just one last 45-minute flight from Seattle to Vancouver and we would be on Canadian soil again. We repacked our three suitcases, two carry-ons, two laptop bags, dog kennel, and said dog onto our two rented luggage carts and began wheeling our way back to the terminals at SEA. Thankfully it was another dry weather day, and our 25-minute walk passed by quickly in daylight.
We checked-in again with Alaska Airlines seamlessly – except for getting Antonio into his kennel. With his four paws firmly planted, he refused to enter his kennel – and who could blame him? His fourth flight in four days, the poor little guy wanted nothing to do with it. While we’re not proud of this tactic, it was his last flight for the foreseeable future and we all had a plane to catch. So, with a tasty treat lobbed into the back of the kennel, Antonio scurried in after it, and we slammed the kennel door shut behind him.
Once past security, Miguel and I grabbed ourselves a couple of coffees, proceeded to our gate and prepared for our last flight of this trip, and for a long while to come. After almost five years of regular flights home for visits, it did not yet resonate that we were not going back to Mexico after a couple weeks catching up with family. There was no home for us in Cancun any more. That chapter of adventures closed, and with our arrival back in Vancouver, a new one opened.
Soaring in over Whiterock and 0 Avenue, hanging a left over Delta and gliding over Burnaby and Richmond with the Northshore mountains waving us in, it was a familiar West Coast welcome.
Less familiar was the paperwork and multiple COVID-19 checkpoints we encountered after disembarking our flight. Our arrival coincided with the first day of mandatory quarantine measures for travellers – complete with fines up to $1 million. Thanks to our friends and family, we were aware of these new measures, and I had already completed our provincial paperwork online from Seattle. However, once inside YVR, we filled out additional federal government forms regarding COVID. At customs itself, we were asked again if we had any COVID-19 symptoms to declare and reminded us of our responsibility to self-isolate for two weeks. After speaking with the customs agent, we talked to yet another representative – this time from the BC Health Office, who ensured we had a self-isolation plan in place including accommodation, transport, access to groceries, medication and other supplies. As we exited the terminal, we met one more person – this time to verify our quarantine plan and completion of the online COVID-related paperwork. What a contrast to where we had just come…
Finally breaking free, we walked out into the bright Vancouver sunshine and warm welcome of my sister, Sandy, who had come to collect us at the airport. This was, in a word, heaven. It didn’t matter that, after a surreal week of madness, we could not embrace each other and that our ear-to-ear smiles were covered by masks. The sparkle in our eyes said it all. We were home.
Well, almost. Of course, we had mandatory quarantine to complete, an apartment to sort out, and a shipment from Mexico to await. But, for all intents and purposes, we felt like we were home. Good friends of ours in Squamish, a mountainside town 45-minutes from Vancouver, graciously hosted us in their basement suite for our period of isolation – and then some. Norm and Laura warmly welcomed us with a fully-stocked kitchen, cozy surroundings and afternoon socially-distanced happy hours in their backyard. Stella, rescue pooch extraordinaire of Norm and Laura’s, showed Antonio around her Pacific Northwest garden sharing her bones and toys with him.
Once landed in Squamish, our time passed quickly. Miguel spent the final weeks of April finishing his Mexican work role remotely before turning the page and officially starting his new Canadian position on May 1. I went about setting us back in Canada – contacting banks, CRA, renewing licenses, researching cell phone providers, setting up the pieces for our move into the apartment, and hunting for work. While busy, our time in Squamish was punctuated with afternoon garden catch-ups, family zoom chats, and creekside walks with Antonio and Stella. It was a perfect transition into the life we have now. So much so, I honestly don’t believe we really stopped to think about all that had transpired. Until now, six months later.
What a strange time it has been – and continues to be. Never has a period passed so quickly and yet feel like an eternity at the same time. In trying to put into words that whirlwind experience, I have thought aplenty about that other life. It doesn’t feel real that we were just there in Mexico – living, exploring, adventuring, enjoying, and loving every minute of it – for four and a half years.
That other life feels much like a dream – although a vivid one. I can still picture so much, so clearly and yet I sit here and struggle to put a conclusion together for that absurdly wonderful and rewarding time in our lives – another post, perhaps.
Plenty of time for that…
The Game of Life: CDMX 