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.
Didn’t sleep great, maybe jet lag’s fault. I’m on a mattress on the floor as the casa only has 2 real beds. The mattress belongs to a neighbour who donated one upon hearing our plight.
Had a great breakfast – fruit smoothies, scramble eggs, bread and coffee. Rayt nice.
Martin and Sanya went snorkelling today, I couldn’t afford it so sacked it off and made up a workout in the casa. Knackering in the heat.
Showered and wondered to the beach with my Lonely Planet. Bought rum for 3 pesos, couldn’t afford coke with the change I brought. Sat on the beach drinking straight rum and reading about Cuba. Germans turned up after 2 or 3 hours. Unknowingly, during this time I got absolutely fucking fried. Every visible inch of skin is burning, which is fun.
Went back to the casa alone under the pretext of applying sun screen but secretly just wanted to pass out drunk – I succeeded brilliantly in this endeavour. Showered now.
Burnt to a cinder and in great pain.
Went back to the beach. Learned to do a headstand. Stayed in the shade. Did a workout with Martin and nearly died of heat stroke. Only drank rum all day – no water. What a tit I am.
Came back, showered, went out for food. Had ‘Cordon blue chicken’ authentic Cuban meal. Basically chicken nuggets with dry rice.
Got a weird tennis ball looking Tuk Tuk thing to Al Capone’s house. Was pretty grand but then I live in Sheffield so I’m used to grandeur.
Also got a ride in a 50’s taxi, which was sick. On arriving at our destination, driver asked for 3Cuc, Martin said no it’s not worth that much and gave him 2. Driver was speechless with rage which was exacerbated when Martin made him wait while we took photos with the old fashioned car.
Went to a shitty all inclusive hotel for wifi as the Germans wanted to look at hotels in Cayo Coco. I’d rather be gunned down in the Bolivian jungle than stay in another tourist town. Apparently Cayo Coco has even better five star all inclusive hotels. Oh joy.
Came back and spent a long time talking with the Casa owner’s son. Learned about Cuba. Turns out private businesses are allowed now. Who knew. If you earn over 50,000 pesos a year (about 1,500 quid) then you are taxed 50 percent. Bizarre.
There are no photos of this day because I was smashed the whole time.
Day 5: Dead Revolutionaries and Transvestites
“Suddenly there appeared at our table a beer bellied transvestite in a wig and hotpants with Sylvester Stallone’s jaw and Emma Watson’s legs. Not sure what he wanted – not a word of English. Kept inviting us to a ‘discotheque’ and when we said no he just pulled up a chair and sat with us on his mobile.”
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