Note: I wrote Rum Socialism from the notes of a travel diary I kept while in Cuba. Here is a ver batim excerpts of that diary that doesn’t give away too much of the book itself.

*****

Parking Lot at Cienfugos Airport

I’m sitting on the bus outside the airport waiting for it to leave. The toilet is out of order and the tour guide just gave us a last call warning to use the washroom. I pounded two beers in the parking lot, but I don’t have to piss yet. Looks like it’s going to down pour. That kind of ambiance should serve my bladder well. The digital display over the driver says 18:37, 27°C.

*****

The bus stopped at a roadside bar so that we could all use the washroom and spend more of our tourist dollars. Met some Newfies. I checked out the girl on the plane, and chatted with the guy later at the airport bar. They were on a different bus going to a different resort. Colin and Alicia. They hope to move to Montreal in the fall. She’s a teacher and he’s getting his trucker’s license.

*****

19:37 – The bus guide is telling us all about the tours they can upsell us on.

*****

All along the road there have been billboards and graffiti about the Revolution. White rocks have been arranged to read Fidel, Raoul, and CDR. I wonder how many of these farmers are actually behind the rocks and graffiti and how much of it is state mandated.

*****

I can smell myself. It’s refreshing.

*****

So much poverty. I wonder they’re any happier than us. The two middle-aged men I met at the airport in Montreal seemed to think so. One of them keeps a girl here, and pays her in jeans and toiletries. His friend was coming for the first time. I hope he brought a lot of shampoo.

*****

Tonight I’m going to swim in the sea and wrestle a shark.