The 9th day of my Cuba trip was probably the most difficult. I was smack in the middle of my trip, with the next week stretching out in front, and the misadventures of the past week still fresh wounds on my ego. On this day I had some of the best and worst experiences of my trip, and I’ve not sugar coated it. Today’s diary entry is a helter skelter of a read…
After just a week in Cuba I’d taken a hell of a beating: alone, humiliated, skint, sunburned and stupid. With the safety of hindsight, those were special days, the kind of days where you really learn about yourself. To me, those are the most valuable of all. Oh, and in case you haven’t spotted a trend by now, rest assured it gets worse still. Enjoy!
On my sixth day in Cuba I bid farewell to my German travel companions and it turns out that was terrible idea resulting in one of the most profoundly humiliating evenings of my life. When you’ve read today’s diary entry, consider this: it actually gets worse. Enjoy!
The fifth day of my Cuban adventure, and things are going awry pretty quickly. At this point I was already sun burnt to hell, running out of money, and halfway across the country with no plan of where I was heading. And it gets worse. Oooh, so much worse. Enjoy!
Okay, so the first few days of my Cuba diary are hectic, but for the most part I think I didn’t make too much of an arse of myself. Well, from here on my whole trip goes south fast, gathering speed like a runaway train made of bad decisions and cheap rum. Enjoy. It only gets worse.
Day two of my Cuban diary, and my first full day in the country. It was also the first day of my first conning/polite robbery, at the hands of a gold-toothed charlatan named Julio. Wherever you are now, Julio, fuck you.