12/11/2024
Sun-kissed and rum-soaked. Half a cigar and four different currencies in my pocket. Cuba - gorgeous but broken, decaying colonial grandeur, poverty with palm trees. Terrible food, frequent electrical blackouts and another countless example that Communism never works. But the island is alive, bursting with chaotic atmosphere and despite the government the Cubans are great people. Well, not the street hustlers that continuously ask me "mi amigo, where you from?". So I silently direct their gaze towards our tee, as if to say "There, bruv. I'm from there." After a blank stare, they just ask me again.
I should have just brought a QR code. What would Che Guevara do?
