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Travel Photos - Sunday 31st August 2003
I’ve now put some of my travel photos up on this site from my recent trip to Mexico, Guatemala, Honduras, Belize and Cuba. Three films are online so far, and most the others are currently being developed. View the photo album now!.
Boy I’m glad to be back home - Wednesday 27th August 2003
Home’s where I’m supposed to be… at least after getting a plane home, anyway. Seen three of my films of photos - some are pretty cool, but some I’m quite disappointed with. A few more films to develop now.
Bloody underground. Of all the travelling I’ve done, the most annoying was the journey back home through London. Lol!
The Real Mexico - Sunday 24th August 2003
Only for the last few days have I been in the ‘real’ Mexico. Hmm… but what exactly is that? Well, desserts and cactii of course… but why? Well, because that’s the way Mexico’s always portrayed in Hollywood, partly because its what the north of Mexico looks like, and that’s the bit that’s next to the US. Or am I just being pedantically cynical?
Anyways, its a good change, and I’m glad I’ve seen it. Otherwise people would be like ’so what were the cactii like’ and I’d just have to improvise and say ‘They were like, so awesome. Big and green and with spikes everywhere. It was amazing!!!’ Yeah.
Oh, lots of people wear sombreros and all that other typical Mexican stuff here. But not those huge-arse sombreros, but fairly conservative ones which personally I just call ‘hats’. And there’s some weird black stuff they get from the cactii here. Some geezer tried to sell it to me in a little cafe the other morning. Its called ‘peyote’ and its a hallucinagenic - anyone seen that Simpsons where Homer follows the cayote etc? Well, that’s the stuff. Not for me, thanks… not after Amsterdam!
Thought I’d try my hand at hitch-hiking yesterday. I’ve been on so many buses they start to bore me. Plus there weren’t any buses that I could see going the way I wanted, out of Real de Catorce, a little ghost town I stayed in for about 8 hours (mainly to get some sleep after a night bus or two). So a nice fairly elderly group gave me a half hour lift in their little bus/van thing. Nice people, gave me some manzanas and some refrescos and all. But they weren’t going all the way I wanted, so I did a bit more hitching, although this time there were two French dudes who’d already been waiting for a lift for about an hour. Poor guys - I came along and we all jumped on the back of a pickup truck after just a couple of minutes. But be beginners touch.
Or not, as for the next leg of the journey I was waiting for about 45 minutes before I decided to give up and get a bus instead. It was getting late, and I didn’t want to be hitching at night. Then the only bus out of the next time was at ridiculous 3am, so I had to stay in a bus station for about 5 hours. Oh the fun!
Well, I got here, to Guanaguato about 8am this morning. My plane home is tomorrow evening from Mexico City. And I’ve just spend an hour on here writing bizillions of words to catch up. Think I might just collapse now!
Argh… Airport, Travel Agency… Argh!!!
Being the riskay kinda person I am, I thought I’d get in an illegal taxi to the airport in Cuba as well. Mainly because I only just had enough money left, and I wouldn’t have had enough if I’d taken a proper taxi. I had to pretend the woman in the taxi who got out with me was a friend, so the police didn’t think they were a taxi. That was funky.
Now, Cubana’s (Cuban airway) isn’t exactly the same as British Airways. On the way over ot Cuba, I got a Yak 42 - a plane sold to Cuba from Russia, because Russia decided it was too hard to maintain, and pretty dodgy. There were weird air vents on that plane, with smoke eminating from them on landing and take off. But the plane back to Cancun was even better - no big jet engines on this one, just propellers!! ‘Aero Caribbean’ enscribed on the side, with nice big pictures of sand, sun and sea. Not the best air conditioning, everyone having to fan themselves down with the safety instructions. Actually though, the flight wasn’t too bad - appart from a bit of pretty hefty turbulance for a few minutes, but that’s to be expected on any flights. Far better than stories I’ve heard… one guy who had a return to Cuba and refused to go when he saw the Cubana plane. Another who told me about how the captain was smoking in the cabin, then going back into the cockpit and doing some ‘fun’ wing dips rather than going in a straight line. And another person who was half way across the Caribbean sea when one of the propellers cut out, so they had to turn back. I think I was fairly lucky!
Okay, so I get to Cancun airport and I’ve got about an hour and a half to get my bags, get my ticket which is supposed to be waiting for me, and get a connecting flight to Monterrey. Only thing is, with 45 minutes to go before my flight, after having got my bags, I find out that the flipping travel agency doesn’t seem to have sent my tickets there. Damns baffoons! So I have to wait patiently, seeing the time ticking away and ‘boarding’ appear by the plane I’m supposed to be catching. I’m waiting for someone from the agency to bring the ticket to me. Apparently he’s in the building somewhere, but where? Idiot. Finally he comes with the ticket, but like a muppet, he’s about ten minutes late. So I’ve gotta wait another four hours in the bloody airport for a plane which stops off in Mexico city first and doesn’t get me to Monterrey until almost midnight. Oh, yeah, and I’ve gotta pay another $10 to change the time of my flight too. The travel agency guy can’t pay because he doesn’t have any money on me. But he takes down the number of my bank account so he can pay the money into there. Yeah… right.
These things get me pretty pissed off and stressed. Oh yes.
I’m also fuming because I was stupid enough to pay $5 too much to get my tax thingy out of Cuba. Forget to get my change. Idiot.
Anyway, I get a pizza to calm my nerves and get on the plane. Fairly easy journey for the rest of it.
If you go to Cuba, you’ve gotta get some cigars. Even if you don’t smoke, and neither do any of your friends. So I went to the cigar factory, having found out how much cigars cost from Hash who’d been there the day before. About $120 for 25 cigars, but apparently they’re worth at least double that back home.
But why not buy some illegal ones instead? Cubans are so eager to get some dollars that they steal or whatever cigars from the factory and sell them off in their houses. So I bought them that way instead. Was walking to the cigar factory and some guy on the street asked if I wanted cigars. I said ‘damn straight’ and went into his house. About five guys on the lookout for cops. Took about five minutes deciding what to get. Got 25 cigars, paid $30. Sweet! Saved about $90!!!
So I smuggled them out of the house, and walked around town looking very inconspicous of course, before getting back to my hotel and stashing them in my bag. Was a bit worried they may be found at the airport customs, but they never looked. Plus, they look genuine and legal enough if they were found.
All in the name of a bit of suspense and thrill. Be ready for a big Cuban cigar party when I get back!
Not my favourite city, Monterrey. Its up in the North of Mexico and its big. With big four lane roads everywhere, not a care in the world for pedestrians. And its hot… and to be honest, I’m fed up of the heat now. Anyway, I met up with Marcella (who came to Nottingham for a semester last year) so that was good. Went to some pretty amazing caves with stallegnites and -tites everywhere. Extremely impressive, very cavernous. Although I thought the ‘this rock looks like a cross with a coffin under it, and over there - that’s Jesus’ face’ were a bit far fetched to say the least!
Monterrey - city of mountains, and so it is. Mountains all around it, and we played cards in one of Marcella’s friends’ house, which had a great view of them from a balcony.
Read the update below first. So yeah, the other guy goes into a room then comes out 20 seconds later with a bimming knife and crowbar and goes and starts trying to ram down the door of the room his brother is in. Mentalist. Its one of those doors with lots of little windows in it, and he’s smashing them all out with the crowbar. Yeah, he’s gonna kill this guy. So Hash and I peg it out to try and get the police so that noone gets killed. Only, of course, the family don’t want to get the police involved - regardless of the fact that someone’s about to get killed - because we’re staying in the house illegally, and if the police find out then they lose their house or get a huge fine. Deep shit. Anyway, there’s a huge crowd outside the house, and there’s still lots of glass smahsing, shouting and screaming going on upstairs. Well, eventually the police do decide to help out - but for a police state that Cuba is, you’d have expected they’d do something quicker than in half an hour, right? Totally screwed up. So then the hostel guy’s telling us to tell lies to the police, like we weren’t staying there, just happened to have our bags in the rooms. Okay. Well, anyway, eventually the brothers get led away in police cars and nobody’s dead at least. The police take down our passport numbers and we leave the house to find a proper hotel for the night. Crap knows what the fight was all about and what happened re. illegal guest house. Apparently the brothers were quite drunk and i heard them talking about money… I think. Anyway, so prostitution and a big fight in an illegal guest house was my introduction to Cuba!
The fight was quite an exception, or so I hear. In general, Cuba is extremely safe, particularly for tourists because if someone does something against a tourist then they get a hefty charge. That’s because Cuba needs its tourist dollars. There’s a dual economy: the local ’socialist’ economy, where everyone gets paid about $20 per month; and the tourist dollar economy, where those working in the tourist industry (including prostitutes and illegal guest houses) can earn well over $20 a day. It puts an extreme skew on things.
Cuba’s got the best health system in Central America, with a huge number of doctors throughout the country. Also, there’s very little (at least visible) poverty, because everyone gets food and money and accommodation, it would seem, even if not that much. And everyone seems happy enough, living in not particularly amazing conditions. For example, to look at many of the houses you would think they were derelict, totally run down on the outside, never had any paint work, bits falling off here and there (come to think of it, a bit like my student house for next year!!!). But… people don’t appear to mind.
This, however, is probably partly because they’re not exactly allowed to mind. Or think outside the box, against Fidel, against socialism. On every street there’s an office of the CDR, Centre for the Defence of the Revolution. Basically, its like Big Brother in the 1984 sense. Everyone’s being watched and listened too. People in the tourist industry are not allowed to denounce Fidel and socialism (although they do, if noone is watching), and people not in the tourist industry aren’t allowed to talk to tourists.
A few locals I talked to told me how they saw the good and bad points of their socialism. They’re not allowed to leave their country - that really frustrates them. Its very hard to run a business, because they’re so heavily regulated and taxed, with new rules coming out every day. But at the same time, crime and poverty are low and health is good. People living in ‘poverty’ in the UK have much more money than the Cubans who aren’t in ‘poverty’, but the Cubans, I would say, enjoy their life more. They have less wants, aren’t constantly having to keep up with the Jones’.
But importantly Cuba should be compared with Mexico and Central American economies. Mexico has an unemployment rate of around 15% and no social security. Poverty is rampant and extremely visible in most major towns. In Mexico City I saw thousands of shanty towns an scores of beggars. Guatemala City is very similar to Mexico City, and both have huge crime problems (as does London and many UK towns, for that matter). Cuban cities don’t.
I guess the important question is whether or not capitalism will work in the long run for Mexico/Central America and the rest of the world. My answer is resounding ‘no’ due to my theory on excessive unemployment in the years to come. But simiarly, I don’t think Cuba’s got it right. There’s just too much supression, too little freedom.
Cuban Prostitutes - Friday 22nd August 2003
Well, I’ve now been to Cuba and now I’m in Monterrey back in Mexico visiting Marcela. Quite a bit to say.
Cuba was… interesting. Not particularly fun, but then I was only staying in Havana for three nights, so I didn’t really get to see the whole country by any means. First impression? Well, coming into the airport there were TVs showing Fidel Castro giving a speech… so that was quite typical. Then going in the taxi into town there were basically no adverts whatsoever - apart from, that is, adverts against neoliberal globalization, capitalism etc., and pro communism and everything to do with it. I went to a Casa Particulare when I got there, where you stay with a family, kind of guest house, but the one I wanted to stay with was full. They recommended another cheap (in Cuban terms, at $15) to me, so I went there. Seemed okay, and met a guy called Hash there from Autralia who was going home the next morning. We went around town and there were prostitutes all over the place. I asked one nice lady for directions, and of course she was sure I wanted her other, ehem, services. ‘Nervioso?’ - no, I wasn’t bloody nervous, I just didn’t particularly want to jump into bed with her and pay for the privilege!
Anyway, most guys I’ve met who’ve been to Cuba seem to have gone with prostitutes there. Including Hash, who was telling me the ins and outs of getting with them. Apparently there are three types. There are those you pay straight out. Then there are those you don’t pay at all, but just kind of go out with you for a few days. Then there are those that you buy drinks for etc. Doesn’t make it any different though - its still prostitution and there was no getting me in bed with one of them!
Anyway, yeah, so the next thing I was back in the Casa with Hash and we were gonna go out again to get some drinks when these two young women started having a fight on the stairs. Screaming and shouting, and we couldn’t get past them to get out so we just waited. Then it seemed to get worse and louder, real shrills coming from them. Quite a few people down there. Then some guy, one of the brothers who lived in the house, came upstairs bleeding and bruised and locked himself in a room. Then another brother came up in a similar state.
Crap, ran out of time… finish this in a few days! Stay tuned
I do like to change my mind… - Sunday 17th August 2003
The last few days have been full of indecisiveness, changes of mind, thinking I’m going one way, then another etc. etc. etc. Well, finally my mind is set. I left Tulum this morning after sleeping a night in a new hammock I bought on the lovely beach. But, to be honest, it was too damn hot. Wonderfully beautiful, but too hot.
So I came to Cancun and just bought a ticket to Cuba for three nights! Yeah! Then after that, I’m flying to Monterrey from Cancun to visit my Mexican amiga Marcela who lives there. Then, its straight back down to Mexico City on a bus to catch my plane home at 9pm on the 25th.
Now I very much doubt I’ll manage to change plans again because I’ve just spend 400 squid on these plane tickets. Cheap at the price. Gotta see Cuba before America starts bombing their arse, after reading a Spanish paper today which was saying something about how Cuba is the next Iraq. Damn that George Bush bastard, by the time he’s finished the whole world (outside the US, of course) will be in ruins.
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