December 5, 5:00am
Rafys went through migración (what is also mislabeled here as "immigration", whereas it ought to be "emigration") about 30mins ago. It wasn't easy saying our goodbyes, although we both really started saying them a few days ago. Little things, like thinking about my schedule on Monday or realizing thatg I needed to put together a surveymonkey for the ELI gred students who used the writing clinic tghis semester, started impinging on the mind, drawing it away from the immediacy of the moment, but also helping cushion the blow when it would eventually come: 4:30am as it turned out for me.
We spent out last night together by going out for a bit of a fancy dinner at a traditional Mexican restaurant in the revitalizing Condessa neighborhood of which I had read about in the Lonely Planet guide. However, as we approached our first choice, we noticed that what should have been a cozy Sonoran-style restaurant had been replaced by a modern Argentinian steak restaurant. We passed three American tourists possibly on the same mission to the same restaurent (judging from their puzzled expressions as they approached the supposed location).
We contined the three blocks over and several more up to the back-up choice, only to find another restaurant had taken its place... and had closed its doors for the night. On the positive side, we had serindipidously stumbled across an Irish pub - St Patrick's - on our way (and so managed to continue oujr trend of Irish-bar-hopping that we started in Santiago), swearing to stop in before going back to the hotel. Still, we had nowhere now planned to go for some repast.
We headed back, past a tapas place (no thanks) before heading toward the much busier Avenida Michuacan. Serindipidy was with us again, as we came across a nice little restaurant serving French food (and Italian pasta) at reasonable prices for the area.
As we sat and ate our gorgeously scrumptious dinner, we talked about growing up and what kinds of teenagers we each were. We talked about when wse each received our first cameras, and also talked about whether we had good arguments withour parents. Light talk, but also deep talk, to learn more about each other.
Our trip to St Patrick's was quick (it was only a little over one block away), and we enjoyed overly priced British and Irish beer before catching a cab at around 2:20am in order get back to the hotel for our 3am wake-up call and 3:30am cab ride to the airport. (Needless to say that we made it well on time, but wew far from the first here.)
It is now 5:30am, and Rafys' flight takes off in another half hour. Sitting where I am, I can see the huge HDTV monitor showing the departure times for her flight - the first ont scheduled out from the international part of terminal 2 - as remaining "ON TIME". Once I don't see it on the board, I'll make my way to the terminal 1 area in order to try and stay up the additional 6.5 hours until my own flight leaves.