In the hostel in San Jose I met two guys from the Check Republic, Daniel and Michael, who were going on the same flight as me to Havana. We ended up taking a taxi to the airport and would end up spending a great week traveling Cuba together.

 After arriving early in Havana, we got ourselves a room in a casa particular. I had to get a separate room, as there are a number of interesting regulations in this communist country – one of them being a maksimum two people in a room – that people are very reluctant to break for fear of severe punishment. Cuba also has a separate currency aimed mainly at tourists that helps keep prices artificially inflated and this contributed to one costly week in Cuba.

 We started the day with a walking tour of old Havana – without doubt the most beatifull city I’ve seen in Latin America.

 It really does feel like going back in time,

with old faded architecture, beautifull American cars from the 50’s

and not so beautifull Russian Moscowitches and Ladas from the 70’s.

There was so much vibrant life in the streets,

this beeing mothers day in Cuba, with people throwing spontaneous street parties on their door steps

where the whole family, from kids to grandmothers, took part and danced to salsa music.

At night we went to the Casa de la musica, a big disco/concert hall. We were sipping our first Cuban Mojitos when suddenly an anouncer called out for people in the audience to call out their nationality and then join him on stage. I did my best to look Cuban, but my new friend Daniel was quickly on stage and was nice enough to voulenteer that there was also a Norwegian in the house. Moments later I was taking part in an international reggaetone dance off, in front of a few hundred people. Surprisingly I was eliminated before the final which was won by a Shakira-ass-shaking girl from Sweden. I went and had a few more mojitos to calm my nerves after that. Good night!

The next day we went for another walk

around beautifull Havana before we attempted to find a way to get down to Trinidad, some 6 hours away on the south coast of Cuba. There were no reasonable rental cars available, and according to our Casa families, no buses either. We suspected they just wanted to keep us there for another day and eventually hopped in a taxi to the bus station. On the way we came across a taxi driver who was going to Trinidad and who would take us there for less than the bus fare. So we were on our way.

Luckily for me, Daniel spoke fluent Spanish, and the taxi ride turned out to be just the start of some very interesting conversations. Coming from the Check republic, Daniel and Michael grew up in a communist regime, and this gave an even more interesting perspective with which to view and enquire about the Cuban way of life.

In Trinidad we took in to a new casa particular – really just a normal Cuban household that has been given permission to rent out a few rooms under strict regulation. Here we enjoyed wonderfull home cooked meals

- a huge contrast to the cardboard pizzas and the often singular available item from the menu (no meat, no meat) – and were taught the art of sigar smoking.

The entire city of Trinidad is on Unesco’s list of world heritage sites, and is a beautifull colonial city, with brightly colored houses and cobble stoned streets.

It also has one of the nicest beaches in Cuba

which we used daily to work on our tans.

At night we went to the Casa de la musica, which had live salsa music and some of the best salsa dancers I’ve ever seen. Later in the evening the party moved in to an old ruin where you could hit the dance floor under a star lit sky.

In Trinidad we managed to get a hold of some black market sigars at a ridiculously low price. There are a lot of sigar scams going on though, so we regrettfully only bought one case, but the rest of the week we would do our best to look cool smoking our Havanas,

and surprisingly I really started to aquire a taste for them after a couple of nights.

After three days in Trinidad I decided to follow the guys to Cubas tourist capital of Varadero, where they had booked a room in an all inclusive hotel – surely my only experience of such luxury on this trip.

Not bound by the strict regulations that apply to most Cubans, we were here allowed to stay 3 people in a room, and the all inclusive actually came out not costing much more than staying in a casa and buying meals and drinks.

On the way we made a quick stop in Santa Clara to see the mausoleum of Che Guevara

and to get some money. As planning is not one of my strong sides I was now out of money and as debit cards don’t work in Cuba, I only had my emergency credit card, with no pin number. Well, that didn’t work, so I was at the mercy of my two travel companions and had a few nervous hours ahead of me before things could thankfully be sorted out at a big hotel for a small comission of 12 %!

3 weeks in Cuba would obviously ruin me so I changed my flight date so that I would only spend one week there. Varadero might as well have been in Malorca, but it had a beautifull beach and free drinks.

At night there was live entertainment on stage and the 3 of us all did a cameo appearance in the Miss Villa Cuba (the hotel’s name) contest. The following night the Mr. Villa Cuba show was on and the announcer tried to get a hold of Daniel and me in the bar across the swimming pool. I tried to hide behind a column, but my entertainer friend dragged my terrified ass on stage yet again. Luckily the drinks were free and I quickly organized a constant flow of mojitos on stage courtesy of Michael.

 We were then ordered to take off out shirts and find a girl in the audience. I singled out Miss Villa Cuba from the night before and proceded to take part in some rather embarrasing excercises, including me doing an apparently very bad impression of a gay guy flirting with a waiter. Weirdly enough I actually started to enjoy myself on stage, in no small part, I’m sure, thanks to Michaels bartender service. The night then continued at various discos, where Daniel enjoyed his new celebrity status as Mr. Villa Cuba.

 After three nights in Varadero it was time to go to Panama. At the airport, as everywhere else in Cuba, things take time, and there was of course no trace of my name on the flight I had cheduled. An hour and a half later things were sorted however, and I was on my way to Panama.

 After getting ripped off as usual by the semi-blind airport taxi driver, I took in to a nice hostel and went to bed early. The next morning I went to the Panama canal with an English guy called Adam.

The Canal is really an enormous feat of engineering and the locks (slusene) we went to also had an informative museum. We were lucky enough to see the passing of the biggst ship that can pass through the canal and also a ship from the Norwegian firm of Wilhelmsen.

I then headed in to town and went for a walk around the old city of Panama City. A very pretty colonial town, but in no way comparable to Havana.

Panama City actually reminded me a little about the US with bilboards and American chain stores everywhere. No doubt a remnant from when the canal zone was official US territory and home to a large contingent of US troups, as late as 1999.

At night we went to check out the reputedly excellent nightlife in the city. Well, it turns out Mondays arent really that great as the only open bar we found in the bar district was a de facto brothel.

The next morning I was off for Venezuela. At the airport in Panama I was approcahed by a guy I assumed was working for an airline. After a while of miscomunication I was told to follow him to his office… the police officice that is – I was now a suspected drug smugler. As the officer put on his gloves I feared the worst, and a meticolous search of all my belongings began. Then another officer came in and a classic good cop bad cop routine began, with the bad cop staring me down and a third cop sneaking up on me from behind and slamming his hand on the wall to unnerve me further. As my drug of choice – cerveza – is perfectly legal I knew I had nothing to fear however, so I remained quite calm throught the experinece – which was conducted exclusively in Spanish – and thank God, escaped without getting aquainted with THE GLOVE.

Arriving in Caracas at 12.30 at night I found out my ATM card wasn’t working, oh joy! Caracas is one of the most dangerous cities in Latin America and here I am obviously setting myself up for another rip off. My hate for airport taxi drivers right now is intense. Having no money, and not really interested in wandering around the streets of Caracas alone at night looking for a place to stay, my only option was to go with the taxi driver and hope that his plan of paying for the taxi with my credit card in the hotel would work. Thankfully it did, and I fell asleep to the sound of gun shots in the street outside.

The next morning my ATM card was working again, so I got a hold of some money. I then bumped into Johan from Amsterdam – one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met – who was also heading to Merida to learn Spanish. We then headed straight for the bus station, and I left Caracas happy to not have seen anything of it.

13 hours later we arrived in Merida, a nice little town situated at 1600 meters at the foot of the Andean mountains, with views of two of the highest peaks in Venezuela at around 5000 meters.

Thanks to Hugo Chavez, the price section of my guidebook was hopelessly outdated, and actually had to be multiplied by 3! The political situatation in the country at the moment is very unstable and there are huge demonstrations daily. We actually had to walk a long detour to avoid getting caught up in a student demonstration confronting the police when registering for Spanish classes. We’ve gotten to know quite a few locals here, and it turns out this country is probably much more dangeruos than Colombia, which has an undeservingly bad reputation. Johan found this out one night walking home when he narrowly escaped a mugging.

I am now back in school, having registered at the University here in Merida. Tomorrow, Johan and I start our Spanish lessons with a proffesor of English. Hopefully we’ll improve alot before we head on to Colombia.

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