Entries about fun

Despite my parents giving Billy and I money towards tickets for Christmas to go to Cuba, we had never found the ideal time to actually go. Billy and I were at a local pool bar in Cabarete when we decided to start placing some high stakes bets on the outcomes of our amateur games. We often settle an argument with a game of pool, so it isn't an uncommon thing. More often than not though, it is about who gets to give a massage or who will cook dinner. This day however, I decided to throw down the idea that if Billy lost we would go to Cuba for our anniversary. I don't know if he lost on purpose - because he certainly doesn't usually lose, but he lost...

So a few days later, we booked and paid for our tickets and began to prepare for what would be our first international travels together - and Billy's first time off the island and in an airplane EVER! I think everyone else was more excited for him than he was, either that or he was trying to be too nonchalant and cool about the whole thing. He did swiftly kick the guy out from the window seat that Billy had sweetly smiled for at checkin, and then proceed to stare out of the window as we headed to Cuba by way of Panama.

It was ridiculous to fly such a short distance, what would usually be a 2 hour flight, via Panama. It meant that we took nearly 11 hours to arrive! But by now I have well and truly learned cheap flights is a great way to keep costs low in order to spend longer on the road. We landed in Cuba with only a slight hiccup - they nearly didn't let Billy in! They called secondary immigration to interrogate him.... Oh, how I love you secondary immigration. You never cease to remind me of that day in LAX where I was kept away from my parents in an armed room with 40 illegal immigrants and Temuera Morrison who looked at me compassionately as he sighed "They always do this to us Maori's." Anyway, this wasn't quite as strict as the USA and he merely had his passport examined with a magnifying glass and was asked some strange questions in regards to his position in the Dominican Republic. We had to laugh when we asked why he was held up - apparently a threat for Zika. Strange they didn't stop me, considering we came from the same country and how I'm Miss low immunity and covered in a million mosquito scars - when Billy never gets bit (the bastard!). We had no accommodation booked (breaking my usual rule of always having the first night planned) but thankfully our friend had given us a local card with an apartment address scrawled across it which was what finally bought his way through customs and we came away smiling as the hot pink Cuban stamp was issued into both of our passports, the first of many to come for Billy I am sure.

The smelly and old fashioned airport gave insight into what we were to expect over the next 2.5 weeks - stale smoke mixed with government enforced weekly fumigation were the overwhelming scents in every shop, home, hotel, bar, restaurant, and business we entered. We were bustled out into the waiting area where a thousand taxis, shuttles, and vendors wanted our attention. We decided to stupidly put our trust into the first person we saw - who told us he would take us to a money exchange that had a line shorter than the one tailing around the arrivals lounge. He also said he would take us to a casa particular in the centre of the city. Pfft, first Cuban trap - he did neither of those. And then promptly took our 40 euro as well as collecting his commission for dropping us at an overpriced apartment that resembled a stark hospital room.

We woke up early the next morning, packed our bags, and found our own way to a cadeca (money exchange) that gave us a better price for our euros as well as had us meeting our first Cuban friend who spent the morning showing us a little bit around town - and collecting free food and drinks from us - as we made our way towards what was our new home in the city of Havana.

We loved walking around and seeing the beautiful buildings and the crazy old cars. We kept turning around each and every corner and there were so many! It was interesting to be in Cuba during the time of change and growth that it is experiencing now. There were many new and modern cars amongst the old american gas guzzlers.

On one of the days, we finally worked out how to take the local transport through havana without having to pay like a tourist. It took asking about 20 people before one kind man gave us a truthful answer. We got in the beautiful old car (albeit slightly beaten up, but still running far better than my beetle ever did!) and asked him to take us in the direction of the number 13... which we believed to be around Miramar area. We drove along the melanin (boardwalk in english I think? The road that goes along the sea...) and finally got out to a wealthy looking area of the suburbs. The driver pulled over, looked at us and shrugged "this is the end of my route." We looked at each other and back to him as he queried, "Where are you two going?" and I replied "Well, maybe this was a bad idea because we have no idea where we are going!" He roared with laughter and told us that it was surely not a bad idea as we were only 2 streets away from the National Fair of artesian products - what luck! So off we went, paid a fortune to get in - only to have our first encounter with how Cuba really survives on the bare minimums. There was hardly anything at the fair, huge parts of the convention centre were empty, and what was there was at an absolutely ridiculous price - as was the $16 euro entry price that we had to pay as non-nationals. We left quickly, and found the worlds largest ice creams and ate them in the super hot sunshine before hightailing it back to the city.

Another of our days in Cuba, we visited the Museum of the Revolution which we had promised my father we would definitely check out. Wow, what a bizarre place! Their version of the revolution, the way everything was written and the story being told was absolutely fascinating. We were super impressed also by the building itself and the artifacts - which even included Che Guevara's hat !

We drank overpriced Daiquiri's at Floriditas - one of the top 7 most famous bars in the world due to being the birth place of the Daiquiri and the frequent hangout spot of writer Ernest Hemingway.

I loved how the local people would dress up either themselves or their pets and pose for pictures - and ask ridiculous amounts of money for them! Billy and I got super sneaky at taking sly photos and then just dropping a few local pesos into their collection baskets instead.

We walked and walked and walked around Havana for what felt like years - but really was only 4 or 5 days. We refused to take taxis anywhere because they were so expensive, so we walked everywhere instead. It was great though because it meant we could stop where we wanted to take photos, to dance to live music in the parks, to browse through bookshops, and to partake in the local attractions.

We even found an airgun shooting range where we could aim and fire at a range of different targets. I shot every single one of mine, and Billy even shot one of his so well that the target flipped off and fell to the ground!

We saw the camera obscura which is a weird contraption that uses mirrors and light refraction to show a live picture of the city on a huge disk inside an entirely dark room. I found it fascinating, especially because one of my favorite books as a child was called the Camera Obscura and I had always wanted to see one. There are only 5 in the entire world, so I jumped at the chance!

We were super surprised by a few things in regards to our initial time in Cuba.

1. You are either Cuban or you are not. Speaking Spanish doesn't mean you get a discount on anything, which was a huge shock for me as my bilingualism has always served me ridiculously well as I have traveled my way through Latin America. Billy being a native speaker and from the neighboring Caribbean island made no difference either. We had to pay the full tourist prices pretty much everywhere we went.

2. The racism and the attitudes of the local people towards us was practically nonexistent. In the Dominican Republic - which I often refer to as the most racist country I have ever traveled to - it is almost impossible to walk down the street without people abusing us or racially profiling either of us. Billy of course is too black because of his Haitian/ African heritage, and I am the color of the tourist - which means I have (supposed) money and am to be worshipped, ridiculed, and extorted all at once. However, in Cuba this attitude didn't seem to exist. We could walk down the streets hand in hand and people barely even noticed us - let alone stare and then yell abuse! Billy of course knows nothing except the attitudes of the country he has grown up in, so for him it was a blissful insight to what life might be like in New Zealand if we ever do make the move home.

3. The difference between the local prices and the tourist prices were EXORBITANT! Trying to understand the two different currencies was something that took me a few days to wrap my head around, let alone poor Billy who had never worked in a new currency at all ! We had fistfuls of both local and tourist pesos and were forever confusing the two.

4. Most of the nice old cars are there for tourism. The really preserved and maintained ones work as private taxi and touring cars available for private hire (for nearly 60 euros an hour!!!). The older and less maintained ones are used as local transport which we took out to the artesian fair. Private cars seemed to be all newer models. Yet there were hardly ANY cars on the road when traveling between towns. It was very strange to see such wide and empty roads with no one traveling upon them

5. The food really wasn't as bad as we were advised. Perhaps we had expected worse? Perhaps we are too used to Dominican food which can often be lacking in spices and taste - think never ending rice, beans, and chicken! The cheapest street food was mostly pizza and spaghetti which came with the saltiest, stringiest, oiliest cheese we know - and which we got very addicted to after initially hating it! And we got addicted to fresh churros with cinnamon and brown sugar !

6. Everything is Cuban made. And if it isn't, it is is practically unaffordable. Most things have the same label or come from the same place - and you realize they are the communist version. Eg, you can only buy one brand of bottled water or soda etc.

7. The best drink in the entire world is Malta Bucanero - malted drink that is not too sweet and not too malta-ry. The best drink to cool you down during a super hot day in the Cuban sunshine. We must have drunk one each and every single day for our entire vacation!

8. For a country that is so "un visited" they are certainly VERY set up for tourism. Official bus stations just for tourists to travel upon, official tours and treks in each town, hop on and hop off bus systems, home stays (casa particulares) where your details are registered everyday with the government to keep an eye on you, everything having two prices, and of course laws about keeping tourists and locals separate. Billy even nearly got arrested one day for walking with me as we entered our favorite locals only (shh, don't tell anyone we weren't local) breakfast spot. We had worked out how we could get 4 egg buns, 2 coffees and 2 juices for just 1 euro. He was suddenly surrounded by questions from 3 policemen while a further few waited at the door and on the street. All Billy had to do was say "Buenos dias" for the lead officer to speak into his walky-talky and tell his backup that "it doesn't matter, stand down - he is a foreigner too like her..." We did of course think that was super exciting to have nearly been arrested for being together!

9. The propaganda and patriotism is EVERYWHERE! Reminders of the revolution and encouragement for socialistic practices are painted beautifully on most public spaces.

10. It was in Havana that we took our most favourite photo of our trip :

My time in Bozeman, Montana was so amazing. The place itself is really cool as it is set in the plains surrounded by magnificent mountain ranges. In the way that Auckland is named City of Sails, Montana is named Big Sky Country – and that it certainly is. Dom and Erie always laugh at me because I have figured that you can measure your own personal sky by counting how many hands it is across, similar to how you measure a horse. I swear that the sky is bigger in Montana, it stretches farther, it’s bluer and deeper, and just prettier. I was determined to go out and watch the sunset from a mountain and to see the stars while I was in town…

The night my parents left town, Uncle Butch, Aunt Terri and I went to a pig roast. Not the best place for a vegetarian, but they were determined to hook me up with a guy who had lived in New Zealand and Colombia. Isn’t that so thoughtful? However, when we met the guy it turned out he had lived in Colombia for 4 years and had never learned Spanish so the future arranged wedding that my parents and Aunt n Uncle had planned was instantly off! It was a cool gathering though, they had a keg and so much pork! I tried the tiniest bite ever but it was so gross, so I didn’t try anymore. Thankfully they had bread and a salad too for us veggos! After the party, Aunt Terri and I wanted an adventure so Uncle Butch suggested we do what is called ‘The Bermuda triangle.’ This is when you go to the 3 bars that are positioned in a triangle and have at least one drink in each. When we entered the first bar, The Hauf, we ran into a group of people who some worked with Uncle Butch. We joined up with them and started chatting, and I met two guys Casey and John. I instantly clicked with these two, and their two other friends, because when they asked why I was doing my travels, they asked if I was just following my heart - instant trust and friendship! The bar itself was awesome. Everything was carved with names, and I was super excited because you could eat peanuts and then throw the shells all over the floor. I asked John if we could carve Katy into one of the tables and the owner of the bar even gave us the knife to do it!

John and Casey came with us to all 3 bars, and at the second bar we played a game of shuffle board (Aunt Terri and I lost by just 1 point!) and had our next drink. When we got to the final bar, Uncle Butch and Aunt Terri decided it was time for them to go home after their drink. So I stayed behind with John and Casey. We went to another bar, one with live music, and danced for what felt like hours. There was a guy who approached me, he was the tallest man I had ever met, and he wanted me to teach him how to dance – so I tried my very best! He was so happy, I think I made his entire week, especially when I thanked him for the dance afterwards and told him he did very well – something people always did for me when I was learning salsa or merengue in Colombia.
We went back to John and Casey’s place and John and I took Trigger out for a walk, where we went down to the skate ramp and just talked for hours and hours and hours under the stars. It was so cool how much we had in common, from ‘warmth insurance’ where we both always try to have one more layer of warmth available when we are away from home, to being able to see the colours of people. No one has ever been able to tell me what colour my aura is, and I learned that to him I am turquoise/ mint green. Which makes sense, as that is the colour of my hakuna matata tattoo and the reason I bought Trixi!
The following night I went for dinner with Jorgelina, my friend from Argentina who I met at my cousin’s wedding. After dinner we partied at a bar that had a DJ playing.

The next day I had the worst hangover, but I still managed to go fishing with my Uncle. And it turned out to be the best hangover cure ever – the mountains, the river, the grass, the birds, the sunshine, and of course the ginormous sky!

I caught two fish, and was so proud of myself. I was screaming and jumping up and down. Later, my uncle taught me how to cut it up and gut it. I nearly vomited the first time, but I did manage to do it myself. We then cooked them up and had them for dinner – delicious!

I spent the rest of the week working, riding my bike around town, buying things I needed to get before being back on the road (headlamp, pocket knife, drink bottle etc), shopping with Jorgelina, fishing with my Uncle, cooking pizzas, pasta and arepas for my aunt and uncle, and working on editing Rob’s book.
One night, John came for dinner at my Aunt and Uncle’s before taking me on a hike up a mountain to see the sunset. When we stopped to buy some cider to drink at the top, I made him laugh by pretending these two giant watermelons were my breasts.

It was so beautiful, you could see for miles and miles and miles. It was so bizarre watching the sunset behind other mountains, knowing that it was still in other parts of the USA. It felt like a ‘fake’ sunset, as if it was all just an illusion. I am so used to watching the sunset out over the sea when it takes with it all the light from New Zealand.

On one of the days, I went with my Aunt and Uncle to a Taco bus in Dillon. We had the most delicious Mexican food, and I suddenly got super excited for the next part of my travels.

On the way back we were looking for sand hill cranes, as opening season began the week after my departure and my uncle had a license to hunt two. We were also keeping an eye out for a rabbit, because my aim was to shoot something. I had already proved to my uncle that I could shoot, having been taught many years ago by my ex-boyfriend. Uncle Butch was most impressed when I managed to hit the target every time with both a shotgun and a rifle, so we knew that any rabbit we did see would be suicidal because there was no way I would miss. Finally, we saw two rabbits just sitting on the side of the road on the grass. It was state land, so I was allowed to shoot them. My uncle got the gun ready for me, and I panicked asking “do you think they are best friends?”
My uncle gave me a weird look, “are you going to shoot a rabbit or not?”
And I knew that I would be disappointed in myself if I didn’t. I was determined to shoot something while with my uncle, because I truly feel that people who eat meat can only do so if they are able to go out and hunt the animal themselves. So I lined the bunny up with the barrel of the shotgun, half hoped that the gun would jam, and I pulled the trigger just as the bunny put his head up – meaning a perfect shot in the head. The rabbit still had grass in his mouth, which my uncle told me meant that he died instantly and never panicked or felt a thing. After I killed the bunny, I was so excited that I had made my shot, but so upset that the rabbit was dead. I even asked if there was anything we could do, maybe we could take the rabbit to the vet…

I watched my uncle skin it (or really peel it) gagging a couple of times. Thankfully he didn’t make me do it myself, I don’t think I could have. Then we prepared it for cooking the following evening in my cousin’s famous, published recipe… And I can’t deny it, the rabbit was truly delicious!

I had such a good time with my Aunt and Uncle, and I really enjoyed my time with them in Montana. I think Michigan will always be my home state, but Montana really is the most beautiful part of America that I have ever seen. I was so lucky to have met Jorgelina and John, meaning that I had people to have adventures with while my Aunt and Uncle were working (or deserving a break from me)…
It took me 12 hours to reach Mexico on 3 different flights, where my friend Adrian was waiting for me. As I flew into Guadalajara, I looked out of the window and saw the most amazing thunderstorms surrounding me. Our plane was not even in the clouds, but I could see in the not too far distance that there were different groups of clouds, each with lightening flashing within them. It was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen, the clouds and sky around them would glow different colours every couple of seconds; blue, green, yellow, orange, and white. In all my years of traveling and flying, I have never seen anything quite like it. I can only imagine that a sky full of rainbow colours, as I land in a country I feel my heart has been calling me to, is a sign of amazing things to come.