It was an early morning in Santa Monica, Calif. After many weeks and months of preparing for what promised to be an epic, life-changing journey around the world, the day had finally arrived.

We were kicking off a trip that would last at least six months and take us to more than 25 countries across four continents. My wife and I had quit our jobs, given up our apartment and moved our stuff into storage, completed a massive checklist of to-dos, and now, after what started as a half-baked pipe dream about eight months prior, we were finally taking our first flight. 

We were up until almost 2am the night before our departure, packing and tying up loose ends. No amount of planning (and there was A LOT of planning, more on that in a post coming soon) would have gotten us in bed by 10pm, considering all that goes into a trip like this. 

We woke up at around 5:15am and got to the airport and through security in plenty of time for our 7:45am boarding. We were zombies, not speaking much, not feeling much. We’d done all the dreaming and anticipating we could do, followed by all the planning, packing, and moving of the past week or so. Now we were ready to get the show on the road. 

Safely in our window seats — we both like the window, so we generally sit single-file for any flight longer than an hour or two — exhaustion won out over excitement as we both fell sound asleep before the plane left the tarmac. 

Day 1 — Mexico City 

When I awoke, sort of discombobulated and certainly dehydrated, I lifted my window shade to get my bearings. Half expecting some sort of brownish desert landscape to appear, the cityscape I found was a welcome sight, as it meant that Mexico City must not be far. 

The more I looked out the window, the more blown away I was by the view before me — the biggest sprawling city I’ve ever flown over in my life.

These photos from just above the wing hardly do it justice. 

I’d known that Mexico City was the biggest city in North America, and one of the five or so biggest cities in the world. But in plain sight, the magnitude was shocking. Living in Los Angeles, and having grown up in Chicago, I thought I knew a thing or two about big cities. Nope.

This place was on a different level. Sprawling neighborhoods as far as the eye could see in every direction. Scant patches of trees dotted a vast sea of buildings, with no bodies of water anywhere in sight.

In retrospect, it’s ironic that my first image of Mexico City was of the unmistakable gray and white structures that blanketed the city, when it was the city’s green spaces, in the neighborhood we’d call home for a week, La Condesa, that would leave the biggest impression on me.

Stay tuned for more from our time in Mexico City as our trip unfolds.