I didn’t finish my stories from my last trip and part 2 of diving but I’ve been back in Los Angeles and workin’ like a crazy pants for the past 100 days or so. And the adventure starts again. In bed on my boat trying to get past my massive panic attacks that I suffer from with flying and then will make my way to LAX. No Big Deal. Yikes! This round will be Sri Lanka where we will have a 3 part destination and exit points with some of the worlds best jumpers. Yep. It’s a BASE jumping event. Let’s do this. Speak soon. (Photos not mine…yet)
THE HOAX OF "THAT ONE GIRL" AND UNDERWATER SCULPTURES
December 13, 2015
The hoax of “that one girl”
That one girl that someone of someone always heard of. Yea, I didn’t like Cuba but I heard that this one girl that went solo had a blast and never had a problem. By when you ask, did you talk to her? No, but my friend said she did. Haaaaa. Moving on…
So here is why I left the US. Originally to dive. I currently can’t hear out of my left ear and I have a sinus infection that has robbed me of my scent but I’d be damned if I didn’t do the dives that I went to Mexico for.
This is how it goes.
I got to isla 5 weeks ago to see the underwater museum that I had been longing to see. I rushed my dives mostly cause there were three days in a row filled with 5 rad dives and they ended just as my period was about to start. Let’s be honest, no one wants to attract sharks in the water unless it’s on purpose.
Not to mention I had been sick and puking and *$@?ing my brains out after the wedding in zihuatenajo. But I made it happen. Carefully.
The first two dives were the museum which I felt rushed but mostly cause I could be down there for hours. My love of photographing people AND underwater sports? Awesome. Then a reef. It was cool but wasn’t excited cause it wasn’t what I fancied.
The next dive was pretty legendary in my book. A night dive. I was told it was the last night dive on the island for a while if ever as new sanctions were being put into place thru horror stories that no one really knew the actual reason except it involved deaths in the recent past. Possibly a propeller to the head of a night diver?
Anyway, I now understand with what was ok to do in the previous rules why things needed to change.
We went on our dive where I was still working thru my anxiety and control issues after not diving for 2 years. We did the same reef as my first day and it included a statue from the underwater museum called the dream catcher. Beautiful idea. A man sitting by a bar with his dog at his feet and bottles in the racks. But the bottles were actually filled with messages. Brilliance. And now a new reef system had started to form around it.
I took my torch and saw a crab on the statues leg and followed it up until…..sitting there, was a huge Black Sea urchin perfectly in place on the guys penis!!!! Right there! A bush! Statue got bush! And the crab crawled right up behind it with several others. I almost spit my regulator out. I could see they thought I was panicking by it was absolute hysteria. Did anyone else see this! The dudes got CRABS!!!! NO ON IS SAFE! Ha…
Keeping my computer and moving on, we witnessed puffer fish that were at least 3 ft long. Who knew? And it was time to surface. As we got to the surface from a 12m simple (ish) dive……..I filled my bcd (air in my jacket for non divers to understand so you can float). And as I sat bobbing there…in the water with no moonlight and a tiny flashlight in the huge open ocean…I now understood how it was and why I refuse to watch “open water.” I asked, “where is the boat?”
Couple seconds later….I hear, I dont know.
Don’t panic don’t panic don’t panic.
Then in the distance, I can see the boat. Just after my head told me, now is the time we could totally panic.
Check that one off the list.
The next morning was a wreck and drift. The wreck was way out and I’m so thankful I took a Dramamine. I’ve learned with deep dives and small boats, you have to find the perfect cocktail with pills like Advil, Dramamine, etc. I found mine. Let’s just leave it at that. Everything short of the shot of tequila to get me out there and not die.
The current is usually so strong. This day, we were lucky. Dropping in, you have only a moment to grab the line along the boat to not get carried away. You make your self to the buoy and start to descend. But if anyone misses that line on their entrance or during a string on current while pulling yourself down from the surface towards the ocean bottom, everyone has to let go and the boat scrambles to pick you up in the middle of the ocean. Yep! Swallow that. I’ve heard that the current gets so strong that it will pull your mask off your face or even dislodge your tank from your bed which it did to my friend Linda the following week.
Once we pulled ourselves down, I managed to cut my hand from sea life with green blood spewing out. But it was finally calm. I came on a day that was manageable. We got to the wreck which was actually ripped in half from Katrina. We saw a nurse shark. HUGE barracudas, and swam thru the wreck before “spotting,” the eagle Rays. They came a month early and were gorgeous.
Lion fish clung to the boats crevices, hiding. Here’s this part. They are an invasive species in this part of the ocean. Apparently they have no predators and are killing all the small fish cause not only did the hurricane bring them in…but apparently so do tankers. When they pass trout certain canals, they take on water and so forth for buoyancy and take wildlife with it and when they empty throughout their journey, they pour new wildlife into new systems.
They are tasty I guess but also populate fast so they encourage you to kill those mofos.
The second dive and final of isla was a drift dive. My first. It was awesome. You literally just do that with the current. Boat drops you, you hold a line with a floating buoy and the current takes you and the boat follows. I met a beautiful sea turtle that actually let me get right up to its face and was chill. Just like the stoner from finding nemo!
What a beautiful and freaky group of dives.
It would be weeks til I got in the water again. But holy heck, what a different set of dives this was.
The cenotes…here we go!
GONE DIVING
December 9, 2015
Today is the Pit and Dos Ojos in Tulum. Cenotes
KIDNAPPED AND STOLEN.
December 15,2015
One day closer! One day closer I get to see my loved ones. I left isla mujeres yesterday after I returned there to grab my computer and stuff I didn’t want to take to Cuba. It rained like crazy. It smelled beautiful. I was able to take my new osmo camera and film some musicians and an acrobat, really being able to open up my eye to this new 3-axel gimble camera. It made the trip back to isla that much better. But it was time for me to go. Waiting to catch the ferry back to cancun where I would grab a taxi to bus to tulum, Jules, my new friend from isla, called my name!!!! DEVON! I just thought it was someone speaking Spanish again as there is some phrase people always use that sounds like they’re sayin Devon so I’ve ignored it. She found out I was heading south and we shared the cab to the bus station but that’s when her quick tongue beat my ear.
A few minutes later, she looked at me
and said you’re being kidnapped.
(Is he drunk behind us?)
I was taken to playa Del Carmen where we joined her bf who was my dive master a few weeks ago getting his instructor certification. He was with friends, musicians. We all sat around and chilled and listened to great music. And being as cool as I am, I slept the rest of the night in this home that became a hostel of sorts for kidnapped friends of friends. They all went out and I heard them come in at night but 10 hrs of sleep was oh so nice.
We hung out in the morning with coffee which quickly turned to beer and played more music. They begged me to play the saxophone which I had there at his place but it has been 15 years since I picked up that thing.
Yes, I was in the marching band in HS. Take that!
All of a sudden we were all leaving, time to go. Time to grab a collectivo van which is like a very tight fitting can similar to a clown car with people jumping in and out as you go.
It was also commonly called Pecera. Spanish for “fishtank.”
It was here that I realized in the rush, I didn’t grab something that I got for Andre. I am devastated. So much thought and energy went into it and it was quickly left in the middle of the yucantan. So sad:( I may be able to get those lovely musicians to send but…who knows.
So I arrived finally thru a couple transfers and $40 pesos later (just over $2), to tulum where I made my way to hostel sheck which came recommended and the website looked like an oasis. I should have known better. I am in that “make it look better than it really is,” industry. Especially with the model industry. Only so much I can do til I resort to photoshop. “She wants to be a model?” Ohhhhh, I get it, you’re just using her to make more money from her and not from clients. Fucking LA. Sometimes it’s more like a quota like a sorority than it is a modeling agency.
The room smelled of mold and mildew. I camp so this comes with the territory. But I started sneezing and the smell was so strong that I thought I stuck my nose inside a box that hadn’t been opened in 30 years that sat in the rain. It actually may have been a bunk that was exactly that.
I roamed the town of tulum looking for the perfect dive shop which no one really had any suggestions for. Even divers from only 20 miles away. Weird.
Dive shops are crucial in my book. I like family style but medium sized with fun character and also obviously safety.
It’s between 3. I have two days of diving before Leaving
Fuck. So here’s the drama. Two Mexican dudes who were hitting on me when I switched hostels last night sat on their private room balcony and was observing the surroundings. They went around late last night and even stole up to an entire backpack of a man traveling for a yer who is only left with a passport and the clothes on his back. The worst part…his journal is gone.
Laptop from a room, phones charging from rooms. Bags, etc. And I just realized, there was a hole in my screen next to bed in 6 person dorm. He put his arm in to move the curtain and was surprised that my face was right there. Must have been surveying the room. I told him to leave. He looked shock. He cleaned house last night with his little bitch of a friend.
Goes to show. Don’t trust anyone. The hostel actually didn’t even make him give a passport or ID and the front desk guy was also drunk.!
This is the conversation I had with dre. I’ve become a different person. It’s been an internal struggle of not enjoying the long backpack trips as much anymore. I will be officially be gone 5 weeks when I return this Friday. It’s one week too long. These people that leave for a year, I couldn’t do it. Mostly cause I don’t like to. I actually like to work. I like rest between adventures. Even hostels urk me now. I was spoiled at isla cause I was in an all girl dorm that majority coming in and out were respectful. When I went back to the mildew hole last night to grab my bags, there was a 50 something year old guy that moved into the bed only 5 ft away. Heavier set man and very muscular. I felt relieved to relocate another heavily recommended hostel that apparently had no security, drunks, and theft.
Awesome.
Goes to show. Don’t trust anyone when traveling. I went to a house of people I did not know in playa. But it was of mutual friends of people I trusted. It’s rare these days I just jump around to people I have no clue about. This isn’t even a bitter taste left from Cuba. It’s just being a smart traveler
But back to my point, I like that after as hard as I work, to have finer things in life. Backpacking grounds me, but I don’t like to push it to prove anything. I didn’t do that on this trip but I def stayed too long mostly to get over being sick. I have nightmares of beans and hot sauce. I went from everything going thru me within an hour, to nothing going thru me for days, to the opposite again. Mildew, theft, being lost, covered in salt, ant infestations and sexual harassment.
ALL WHICH I KNEW WOULD HAPPEN.
But give me a fucking good steak which I’ll chew slowly enjoying every bite, a mani pedi, a beautiful bathroom and a bed that I am not concerned that I may be gambling with bed bugs. I will continue to backpack in the future, but for this trip… Get me my dives & get me back to my Venice family so I can meet my soon to be niece and nephews.
And obviously the man.
I’ll catch up on dives later. Off for a bike ride which I will take my valuables with pepper spray in my pocket…
*SIDE NOTE: I just saw the first black female backpacker this entire trip just walk by me. I never even thought about it til now. There has not been a single description of that kind of traveler til now. Weird how you notice things randomly.
CUBA, YOU MADE ME HATE YOU....
I wanted to like you. But you did this to yourself!
Okkkkaayyyy. So….everyone keeps writing me and commenting on how they like my honesty of the blog but I figured there really isn’t any valuable info vs me being witty with my own personal travels. So here we go. I’m not being mean, just “frank” as Elana says.
Fucking Cuba…(so far)
It’s exactly that. It has so many restrictions and confusions. So I like to stay as backpacker which means wheelin and dealin discounts or cheap housing so I can travel longer. If you plan on doing this. This is my advice from what I’ve learned.
For everyone that says, you’ll have sooo much fun!!!! That comes from a tourist who lives for a private taxi to resort and English translators taking care of everything who really don’t even speak great English. The only way to know how to have an ok trip around this is PLANNING! Winging it here for super cheap is very hard.
I befriended two girls in isla mujeres who have almost the exact same wants and travel plans and we have struggled. This is what we’ve learned and what we’ve heard.
Being a girl
In general, it sucks. Men here have no courtesy. Not even the older generations. The only time I’ve had courtesy are by men at bank who are at an establishment which requires them to. Otherwise, expect govt officials and cab drivers and anyone else that wears a uniform including the already horrendous locals to kiss in your ear, scream profanity, and follow you in the streets. It’s as bad as watching your waiter look up your shorts as you go to the table and then thinks you’re dumb enough to not look at the bill and double tip cause they added tip already on a scratch piece of paper. You are a muse for their penis. Men with babies even slyly look while wives or baby mamas or fiddling with their phone. Speaking of which…
WHO THE FUCK HAS SERVICE IN THIS TOWN?
Pre planning and booking
Book as much as you can before arriving. Once you arrive in Cuba, expect to pay about $25 for a taxi to your place in Havana, wherever it is. When you get through customs, the exchange is outside to your right where there are also security guards eyeing your tits. Find a driver and don’t let anyone try to help you cause they expect commission which may only be a 20ft walk to a cab driver already waiting. We are staying in a hostel for $8us a night each for bunk beds outside of town by the Latino Americano stadium. A 2 mile walk to old Havana and “town.” Our woman doesn’t even speak a lick of English and she walks into our apartment thru the balcony when she pleases I including in the middle of the night cause she had us sleeping on mattresses with dog hair on them from forgetting our sheets and pillow cases.
Also internet only comes with possible resorts and sketchy at that and expensive. $5us for an hour. Supposedly there are unicorn cyber cafes. HAAAAAA!!!! You can find it along with the Lochness monster.
Mapping.
This is where it gets funny. You can take a hand drawn map from another traveler showing you where to exchange money…possibly not Mexican pesos depending on bank and possibly a bank that doesn’t except girls in shorts unless you’re a local as we saw today or both or none of the above. And the one block drawing may be a mile away! Blocks per people’s directions are never correct. Hope that makes things clear. Ps. There is cuc vs cup? Which is new currency vs old currency that is non existent except for every place you purchase stuff at. OY. Hope THAT helps. Rich money vs. poor money as we say, as locals have even confirmed as a description. Oh, and American dollar is expensive to change so take euros or Mexican pesos or you get charged commission apparently for US dollars. They love and hate us. Probably love to hate. I just kept nodding when the girls said they were Aussie.
Oh right. I’m talking about mapping. I have not found a very good paper map but haven’t looked for one cause who uses that anymore. What I did do that was a godsend was download an app that has been completely useless (says Cuba and its green) but the only good feature about it is the map that tracks where you are without data or wifi. We would possibly be dead without this since we got stuck broke with no money and no taxis caring to take us where we had to go during a thunderstorm and night…when the real dirty ones start to come out…outside the perfect resort city.
Language barriers
The last day in Havana may be the first time we met anyone who spoke English besides our guy thru an agency that booked our trip which is still to be continued tomorrow to Vinales. My biggest advice which makes no sense why I didn’t list this first is…learn fucking Spanish. One of my Aussies had a translator guide from lonely planet that helped. I crammed Spanish before leaving but saying you’re tired and I need to eat doesn’t help you finding a bus station or understanding how to say street or there is an error in the bill cause you bloody fucked it up (it’s my aussie coming out from 2 degrees of separation). Either bring a Spanish friend or stay in a resort if you get frustrated easily. I didn’t know I did until I was feeling violated by people who spoke fast who just wanted to ask if I needed pork or chicken. Carnitas and Carne Asada do not apply here.
I recommend cat Spanish which is my fave app which is ironic since I hate el gatos!
Day trips
Throw the Hail Mary down or get a tour. If you have plans to go from one place to the other and it’s not a tour, usually the people you board with take care of it. Apparently some get butt hurt if you outsource but we are figuring it may be the loss of possible commission. But no speak English make no commission. Otherwise hotels are great with helping you find places or buses. Thru research I learned there are buses that some people find great but others which most say is horrible. Broken seats, overly air conditioned (there is such a thing) and your reservations mean nothing. Cause you’re gonna have to prove and beg to get on the bus anyway. It’s the viazul bus that has a horrible reputation. We did not take it.
Speaking of public transportation…lets talk about taxis. Have you ever had a problem with being denied? If you’re an actor in LA, maybe you’re ok with this as it’s just a normal Wednesday, but for all those who are not, welcome to trying to catch a taxi and have some solid walking shoes. If you don’t pick up a taxi from your resort to go 2 blocks which may be 10 blocks away, you take a “collective taxi.” It’s like uber pool without the app and more of a ,”maybe they’ll stop if I throw my body in Front of this American Classic!”
And their routes depend on when and where they want to go and what travelers already in the car.
Traveling in packs vs solo.
My favorite Bitch point so far. Have you ever been walking to the bar with your girls and the boys think, they are on the prowl? Well this is what it’s like in Cuba. They think you’re on the prowl. And they are hunting you. I learned walking like a butch gal and with the advice my mother used to say, “walk with purpose,” while solo helped deter the hungry wolves. They looked at me and then we’re like, nah, no thanks. Huge self esteem builder. If you look innocent or have any skin showing which is necessary in the heat, you are a target. I also kept my camera tied extremely tight around my arm, my pepper spray in my left pocket (my free arm), and earphones in on ear so I could drown out the hissing and kissing within inches of my face. But it won’t help the men tugging on you, trying to grab articles out of your hand like water bottles I get your attention so they can sexually harass you. I had a guy basically punch the bottom of my backpack so I would whip around and he could start hissing at me. I cannot believe I am not in jail. He punched my cameras. All in all, walk with a male or just don’t go outside if you don’t want to experience this. Oh, and pepper spray does not make a good beer bottle opener. Note to self…
*however, I did manage to open my wine bottle with my gopro! (Take a bow)
Current devastation
So I am in the cab in the way back to Havana airport, thankfully not the city. My Aussies (aka one aussie, one kiwi. Remember it’s easy to just agree with aussie?) are going with to try and leave a day early to the Bahamas where they are excited that it’s the point of the trip where they have a resort. But one is moving on to Peru to hike the inca trail. We had a tour guide pick us up to take us to Vinales to stay two days with a stop to the cigar factory on the way…WRONG. We paid $100 to get a car ride which was explained to us wrong by the only English speaking man on our trip. We were put on a tour which we did not ask for by a man that did not speak English. Except knowing how to say thank you and coffee in English.
We were taken to botanical gardens which we refused to go in, and a 2 foot waterfall which the highlight was a GoPro and jumping with the kiwi. All .05 seconds of free fall.
We had a cat with a white eye tug on our clothes while we ate and the servers just watched. We could barely eat. We then learned we were not going to cigar factory by the guy that I think was suppose to be our original guide. But he offered to take us to the beach and relax all day. When all we had was 1 1/2 days in Vinales which we weren’t even staying in. I’ve never felt so captive. We all were at our breaking point. We had to reiterate several times we were promised the cigar plantation.
We got it, but for the additional cost of $80us to be driven to the cigar plantation the next day. We were helpless and we had to, it was fucking Cuba. We hated our side trip. We had no idea where we were going and didn’t learn a single thing. The only thing we liked? The guy that did speak English that was NOT our guide “let us” stay in his house for $35/night but we got the best meal we had of all Cuba, lobster. However, if I have anymore rice and beans, I will again, possibly be in jail. I have 10 lbs. or carbs and useless fiber sitting in my colon cause my body is unsure how to process it. I’ve never been so swollen and so skinny from day to day.
So we were charged extra to get what we originally told was part of our drive and we were allowed to stay at his house for a cost.
Awesome:( I was gonna say it was best part of our trip staying at their house but you’ll find out later why I retract this statement.
The cigar plantation was brilliant. The photos I got of the older gentleman rolling was brilliant. He was so beautiful and happy. We smoked cigars and bought our tokens. It was the drive however after that almost killed me. Our driver/tour guide that we learned nothing from was sweet and kind and such a gentleman. Driver in the other hand???? I’m lucky to be alive. And after smoking a cigar and driving windy roads with oncoming traffic in the same lane, puke rested in the back of my throat for hours. We then were promised a boat tour through caves. Yep, we got it. After waiting 1 hour I. A cave with my anxiety which may have almost killed me after surviving the driving, we got on that boat…for 5 total minutes trough caves til they kicked you off and said have a good day…I think. They didn’t speak English.
Weird.
We returned home, ate more rice and beans, and crashed out. Luckily not in a car but our beds.
Our house man said he was going back to Havana and we could catch a ride with him… For $50, no $60, no $50, wait, maybe he’ll charge us $60 cause we didn’t remember the first offer.
I am sitting in this car with ants crawling all over me as my bags are infested from my last night in Cuba. A perfect send off. But don’t worry, the ginormous tree frog I apparently showered with came to the reScue but a little too late to the party. I couldn’t get all the ants out so I’m importing wildlife back to Mexico cause I closed them up into my bag and they’re balling next to my cash.
Get me outta this place. 5 hours in the airport and finally taking off. I have never been so excited to return to a Mexican all girls dormitory in a hostel with Clepto maids in my life.
This is just my opinion and experience. I traveled with great girls, had great food (on occasion), and visited a rad plantation. Mixed with the couple hours I felt safe to bring my huge camera out to shoot the vintage cars and historic streets, it is the highlights of my trip but it was the silver lining of a land of frustration and sexual harassment.
Prove me wrong, I hope you do for YOUR sake!
Well oh shit. I ain’t done yet…
We just got double charged. Dropped off at the airport, we got a bill that was unexpected. He did do us a big favor by changing his price again from $35/night to $30. But thought he’d charge us for breakfast, dinner, water, etc. Shared rooms in Cuba have food included unless specified. He just asked what kind of food we ate. I don’t even think for the reality of allergies. The better the food the better the commission. But don’t worry, his wife did not speak Spanish to tell us this either. They just did it so they could charge. But their commission for water is also kind so we can also help pay for their bomb house on a dirt road surrounded by huts. Hence why I kept saying…why do you think they have such a nice house.
So we shorted him $30 and left the car after he couldn’t understand a tour is not a tour when with a man that can’t speak our language. Glorified driver at best that drove around to see his friends at our expense. Waiting at the airport, I’m literally dancing with ants in my pants, while the “Aussies,” seriously consider sleeping at the airport if no more flights.
They refuse to give anymore $ to the economy!
But it’s ok. I met some Texan bible pushers with pamphlets who said everything will be ok if I accept God…
…and I’m delayed. And no one knows anything… I bought the Aussies wine to pass the time as I sit here maybe sleeping In the airport on opposite sides of customs. Who knows.
And even the pilots walk around like it was back in the day and Panama was the divine airline where they were irresistible. They just walked a circle of the room while checking out each and every girl while licking their lips with one hand tucked inside their suit jackets and tried to see who was watching while they slowly unbuttoned and slipped off their attire. Fucking gross.
Taking off many hours late. Hope I can catch my ferry back to isla mujeres. This is the first flight i haven’t needed xanex in over 2 years. That should tell you something. Get me the fuck outta here.
I'M TRYING...
I have 5 minutes to write what was suppose to be an hour of paid internet in the only place I could find on this fucking island to have internet. Mostly to tell loved ones I was alive and landed safe. Trying to get used to this town but it’s hard to understand anything when people speak fast and don’t know a lick of English. Even my elementary is useless. But it doesn’t stop guys from taking full advantage whether we speak or don’t speak, for them to fully eye and vocally rape us. Yes, it doesn’t help that I have a hot kiwi and hot aussie with me but they are just almost unbareable. It is leaving such a bad tast in my mouth that it also makes me extremely uncomfortable to take my camera out cause we are such an eye sore apparently. I feel safe yet not at all. We even had someone just let themselves into our room last night. Yes, it was the woman renting the room but even tho she forgot our pillow and sheets, she decided to just walk in while we were sleeping. I thought we were getting robbed. I hate being so negative by I just haven’t hit my groove yet and the disgusting men and little boys actually are making it hard for me to give this fucking country a chance. And if you know me well, I’m pretty cool with crazy and weird shit. This is just OVERBOARD. Hopefully tomorrow is better. I want to salsa dance and I am starting to think it’s a HORRIBLE idea. Just stick to my paid bed with no internet, tv, radio, or anything else except water and men outside. #justbitterfortoday
DEAR ISLAND
November 27, 2015
*I’ve decided to post my last text to my girls back home who have been my rock this past year, and we have been equally as supportive to eachother on this rollercoaster. You can still choose your family…
Dear Island,
Miss you all. Been back to being sick again and just trying to get rest. It’s hitting how much I miss you guys as much as I do but the countdown to my return has begun. Less than 2 weeks, fingers crossed. I was in tears all day yesterday. I don’t regret my travels, it’s actually done wonders on my anxiety and I haven’t even been taking xanex with me anymore just for the safety.
But I still miss you and thank goodness for wifi keeping me abreast (had to) of your crazy awesome lives. Andre, who is more than understanding, has been on call to pick up when my cramping and sweats of my body being beaten down is debilitating…and also helping me hablo español to prep for Cuba. Met his mom yesterday who I call MeNéna on FaceTime who showered me with gold and Burton hoodies and loves me even tho she is a ruthless columbian with a love for her son. She normally despises the “girls” he dates. I am apparently a “woman.” Which is such a weird description to my young mentality and crazy. She’s rad (as I follow that up with rad;) and thinks I’m loca.
And with the holiday, the only restaurant on the island serving turkey was a %#?* of a woman that used to live in Miami who served an appetizer of walnut pâté with Ritz crackers for 400 peso, about $25/plate…in a fucking third world country. Ok, not 3rd, but a fucking 5mile Long Island. More expensive than the shitty frio filet I had last week. So instead I took my newfound German bestie and bought her dinner for $30US at a sick Mexican chicken place and she was so excited when I took care of the bill cause she now had money for both yogurt AND a beer today.
She’s become my family here when I’ve missed you guys so much. The last two years of me growing and aging has been a change for sure, knowing what I have learned to find important to my taste while also settling down and has effected my traveling. Ive become more of an outsider looking in which is great for my people watching. But makes me miss my connections back home much more. I love you guys. Yesterday was an emotional day but today is another new day waiting for adventure and so happy I have you guys on my shoulder to support my fucking nuttiness! Love you!
Everyone else? Be jealous of my anchors…my #Island!
SNORKEL TESTS AND CERVEZAS
Did I spell that right? So when becoming a dive master, it’s putting in Ridiculous hours. Something I have not committed to yet. But for those who have…like this guy here…
There is a final test…however, the test involves being able to clear your mask of beer but why waste a perfectly good beer when you can…drink it through your nose? At least that was his thoughts? What a fun night. I have officially booked my trip and leave for Cuba in 4 days. From there, the ball is rolling and will be making my way back home soon. Another two weeks on the road…well, at least that’s the plan for now.