Why we travel and how we travel – Cuba

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The first day of classes at Havana University I met a French guy Fabian walking down the stairs from the University. I said I spoke French (not sure if I should have since I don’t really speak it that much anymore). We started talking, ended up getting a sandwich for ¢75, strolling along random streets, and buying bananas on the market.

It was funny to know that he also had a blog and carried a little notebook along. His blog was “Where Is Fabian” and mine is “Where is Marina.” I guess I wasn’t that original when I thought of the name. Be creative when you get one.

He also took two years off because didn’t want to get into a routine, was traveling by himself, and thought that traveling solo forces you to do things you don’t normally do in la vie cotidienne.

When in the afternoon we met up with his Canadian friend Stephanie and went to get cheap pizza and ice cream, we realized we totally did our homework and read “lonely planet.” All of us carried passport and money in a money belt very well hidden underneath a T-Shirt, we all were totally cheap butts and enjoyed the pizza for ¢50 much more than dinners for $6. All of us carried notebooks, wrote things down, and packed out stuff into inflatable space bags.

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