I will post about the last leg of my adventures soon, but for now, I am home, and it is surreal.
Driving a car again is surreal (and it hurts my finger to change gears), Western commercialism and convenience is surreal to me at the moment (though, it fades, how fast we forget), the television campaigns here about security and terrorism are very surreal, having more than three changes of clothes is strange and take some getting used to, but most of all, the fact that I am really not ready to be here, and that my heart is elsewhere is the hardest thing.
I can't believe I am going to be home so soon, its quite a surreal feeling after having been gone so long. I am not ready to go, but its time. The money is almost gone, and there are important things to be done.
I am feeling better, though still slightly fragile. I went yesterday, to Cesky Krumlov. It's a beautiful place, one of the old Rose Towns, a freezing (there was ice on the inside of the bus window) 3 hour bus ride each way from Prague, but it was so worth it! It snowed lightly all day, making everything just that bit more magical. I leave here tomorrow for the tropical heat of Thailand, its going to be quite a change.
I have, thankfully, left London, and moved onto Prague. The only problem is, I am sick! I have food poisoning, I think. Waaaaa!
From Cuba, I flew via Mexico to LA. From LA airport, I went straight to Greyhound and boarded a bus heading north for San Francisco to stay with the delightful Harvey Rabbit of Burning Man ill-repute. I spent 3.5 weeks in the US before heading to the frozen Canadian wasteland for 3.5 weeks.
The following is a collection of highlights from those travels:
· Staying close to the Haight-Ashbury with Harvey
· Cooking for Harvey when she returned home at midnight after work and rehearsals, then drinking beer and talking
· Andy-roo visiting from Vancouver, and how totally delectable he looks in tight, short, black dresses with fishnet stockings
· The ever-loving, devastatingly sexy Zombie cheerleader that is Harvey in “Young Zombies in Love”
· Waking up in San Francisco with Irving the cat curled up under my blanket
· Halloween in the Castro with Andrew and Kai and thousands of others in costume
· The phone conversation Kai had with his Mom the night I cooked him dinner and we drank a lot of vodka
· Antelope Island outside of Salt Lake City seeing deer, bison, antelope and wolves with Rick and Conrad
· Garden of the Gods in Colorado Springs – beautiful red rock formations reaching up to the bright blue sky
· Hanging out with the absolutely fabulous Jan-poo in Colorado Springs
· Staying with Kat in Regina, and it being like just last week we’d seen each other, even if it was 4 years
· Visiting and roaming all over Vancouver with Andy-roo (“you crazy Aussies”) and Dondi
· Hearing Dondi meow the bridal waltz in the shower
Love to all
Arriving in Cuba, I was exhausted already by my sprint across three countries to make my flight. Landing in Havana, it was as hot and sunny as elsewhere I’d been in Central America, but sweatier. I caught a ride from the airport with a shuttle operator for a bit of US cash, and made my way towards the hotel I had been told about by STA Travel at home – well, the only one that they book, and it was cheap by Cuban standards. There are no hostels in Cuba, and its difficult (and not recommended) to book a private room before arriving.
I shared a ride with two Dutch travelers, a French woman, and a Texan. Yes, it’s true Americans can’t go to Cuba, but its easy for them to go out quietly from Cancun, and no-one is the wiser – they cannot even tell you’ve been there – they certainly didn’t notice when I was returning to the US from there when I came through LA.
By the time I reached the hotel and checked in, it was late afternoon and I was exhausted. I had already decided that this stage I needed to go to the hospital the next day because a) my finger hurt (remember I slashed it open in Guatemala), b) I had almost no range of movement, and c) I couldn’t feel anything above where I had cut it.
The health care is reputed to be very good in Cuba, and I was not to be disappointed. The hospital was clean, well organized and the doctor was very good, just as you’d expect. He assured me that I would not need surgery (I hope not!), and that it should be back to normal in 6 weeks (which in retrospect has not been the case, but it was very reassuring at the time).
After my visit to the hospital, I headed off to visit The Hotel Nacional in Vedado (on the waterfront area in Havana). It was built in the 1930s, in gorgeous opulent art deco style, one of three hotels built exactly the same – one is in Galveston, Texas, and the other, I cannot remember! I also sought out Coppellia, the famous icecream parlour in Vedado. The Cubans love their icecream, and there are always long lines.
While waiting in line, I got chatting to two young university students who were also big heavy metal fans. We talked music, and life in Australia – they were surprised, as in much of Central America, that I was 30 and had no kids. When we finally made it inside, we were all disappointed because they only had vanilla – apparently the strawberry is to die for.
My other days in Havana were spent in a similar way – wandering different parts of the city – seeing the Old Town, visiting the different museums, looking at all the good books (if only my Spanish was that good!). The old city is as beautiful as any Central American old Spanish quarter, and there is an ongoing restoration project for other parts of Havana. All over the city there are unexpected architectural treats, huge 1950s American cars, all chrome and fins, beautiful Spanish-era tiled courtyards, but also evidence of the 1970s Soviet influence, for instance, the big ugly pink semi-trailer towed monstrosities that pass for public transport. It’s a city of really bizarre contrasts.
It’s also the place I felt most harassed as a traveler. In other Central American cities you are approached by street vendors, but usually just as you walk past, and not forcefully. In Cuba, you represent the mighty US dollar. There are stores in Cuba where certain items are sold only for US dollars (as a foreigner, you can only buy and pay for things in US dollars, cash!). Therefore, to purchase these items, you need $US, which means you rent a room in your home to tourists (which requires an expensive government permit) or, you find another way to separate a tourist from their cash, usually in the form of a commission for taking them to a guesthouse, restaurant, etc. However, I did meet an English tourist who had been separated from $6000AUD in 4 days in more old fashioned ways. As a female traveler alone, I seemed to make a bit of a target for these touts who were very persistent - they would follow you for blocks, and I saw other tourists facing the same thing.
Overall, Cuba was a quite surreal, though interesting experience. I would go back, and I would love to get out into the country more, though perhaps not to the resorts where the Canadians escape their winters. One thing I really did like about Cuba was discovering that somewhere near 1 million Canadians live and work in Cuba, and that there are good governmental relations between the two countries – kind of like Canada’s way of saying, “hey America, fuck you”.
Havana Photos
http://www.imagestation.com/album/?id=4291064347