I spent my last few hours in Cuba ordering every single item from the breakfast buffet menu, none of which was very good hence I kept ordering, and enjoying a PIna Colada, which was exceptionally good, on the veranda.
I gave out the last of my local currency to the beggar at the hotel gates, who looked at me like I had handed him a fresh dog poo – it was easily enough for three slices of pizza, five scoops of ice cream or seven cones of peanuts so I don't know what he was moaning about, especially if he was attending a childrens party later in the day.
Having had to endure an hour long wait at customs getting into the country three weeks ago, I was expecting the security staff on the way out to be happy to get rid of me as quickly as possible, alas not. Having nearly lost the will to live queuing for check-in followed by passport control, I was informed when I reached the front that I needed to pay a departure tax first for which, of course, I needed to go to a separate desk. With the final security leg cleared I could at last relax for the fifteen odd minutes I had left before my plane departed for London.
1 comment:
I certainly wouldn't moan at five scoops of ice-cream - there is just no pleasing some people. Maybe he wasn't homeless after all and you just showered some old guy at the bus stop with your spare change?
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