I've done it again. I have thrown caution to the wind and made a very irresponsible decision. I have bought not one but two international tickets. Both I purchased not with my diligently saved cents. No, not me. Why? Because I don't have any saved cents. Instead, I have used the trusty card. Oh dear.
Why did I buy two international tickets? Well I have a lover, a rather too young for me lover, but what can one do. I tried incredibly hard to be his friend because I love being in his company, but each time, he managed to seduce me from my very top to my very heart-felt bottom. Maybe I'll last a day or two (calling on my incredibly good Irish Catholic reserves of guilt and restraint) in his company, and then wham bam... I'm gone, beneath the sheets. He has worked his wonderful, wicked Cuban way on me again. Blush!
But the story of seduction is another story, one to be told at another time. It is a tale of two violinists who met on a hot Cuban street. Cuba is a place where men love to woo women, where age doesn't matter, and where wealth is incredibly attractive.
My lover has never flown in a plane and has rarely seen one fly. One day we hired a moped and scooted to the Castillo de San Pedro de la Roca perched on a cliff at the mouth of the Santiago de Cuba bay. It also happens to be near the airport. I watched Alejandro's mouth drop in awe when he saw the great hunk of metal fly so close to us. 'How many planes have you seen in your life' I asked in my almost flawless pidgin Spanish. 'Three'. It was my jaw's turn to drop, only three!
Where are we going? To Thailand with a month stopover in Australia on the route. I know a slightly backward route; I'm allowed to make backward trips. After all, I am a Bimbo.
Why did I buy two international tickets? Well I have a lover, a rather too young for me lover, but what can one do. I tried incredibly hard to be his friend because I love being in his company, but each time, he managed to seduce me from my very top to my very heart-felt bottom. Maybe I'll last a day or two (calling on my incredibly good Irish Catholic reserves of guilt and restraint) in his company, and then wham bam... I'm gone, beneath the sheets. He has worked his wonderful, wicked Cuban way on me again. Blush!
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| Pre-flight trips on scooters this is the one time I was allowed to drive! |
But the story of seduction is another story, one to be told at another time. It is a tale of two violinists who met on a hot Cuban street. Cuba is a place where men love to woo women, where age doesn't matter, and where wealth is incredibly attractive.
When sipping my Caribbean rum on blistering hot Cuban days, I often wondered if wooing women could be considered a national sport. Sometimes, Cuban men are competitive in their seduction sport, but other times, they work as a team. I stayed in Cuba long enough to become privy to some of their tactics and to observe the behind-the-scenes mechanics of their flirtatious ways.
But back to tickets, two tickets, remember one for my would-be fiancee and one for me.
My lover has never flown in a plane and has rarely seen one fly. One day we hired a moped and scooted to the Castillo de San Pedro de la Roca perched on a cliff at the mouth of the Santiago de Cuba bay. It also happens to be near the airport. I watched Alejandro's mouth drop in awe when he saw the great hunk of metal fly so close to us. 'How many planes have you seen in your life' I asked in my almost flawless pidgin Spanish. 'Three'. It was my jaw's turn to drop, only three!
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| Castillo de San Pedro de la Roca |
Where are we going? To Thailand with a month stopover in Australia on the route. I know a slightly backward route; I'm allowed to make backward trips. After all, I am a Bimbo.
So, should you trust a Cuban man? Is he sincere? Will he stick with you until the end of time, or at least throughout the trip? Sit tight, and let me answer this in the next blog post.
Should you trust your Cuban love?
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