The splendid end.

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Right. This last one is serious. I've been worried about it. I have had doubts about my ability to groove with truth, whilst maintaining the vibe of my ride.. But I'm about to journal my final journey through the wild and the weirdest of Belize, extra-Mexico and the big boy, the big pink room-looming elephant that is Cuba. Now, I'm not affraid per se.. But as I sit on a deluxe coach heading north to Montreal from NYC falling through pages of gentleman quarterly's scented ads, whilst great lakes broaden beyond my aircon enhanced super coach, I'm just having a little trouble getting back. The beuena vista social club carooning me from my neat fitting senheisers, lulling me from my 160gig Ipod are just more distraction.. But I'm already off to a bad start then here aren't I! Oh my. 
So i trailed off in Guatemala.. Splendid times which was a mess of chess and 2 dollar bunk beds, and lullabyes of ripe avocadoes falling on our tin roof. But moving on.. Belize. Didn't know it existed. You are a clever audience so I'll assume u just smirked a little, but I'll be surprised if a few of you haven't just shot over to google maps for a quick refresher? Well now we all know that Belize is Carribean, between Guatemala and the bright blue beachwater of paradise personified.. The population is proper rasta, possibly the coolest men breathing on our little space orb, grooving to a rhythm heard only by their populace.. Our other mother brothers bare glowing white teeth and swagger around in rags just barely hiding the always fiercely jagged muscles rippling across necks, arms and calves of fishermen well ocean salted and rum stewed. The women are of the large booty variety, all smiles and long, penetrating head-to-toe eyeshagging looks.. I mean, I ain't just some skinny white boy but my tan turned crimson just a couple of times during one of these invading eyelove sessions. Mmm.
We spent some time slowing to the pace, before heading our for a full day of scubadiving on a reef a few dozen kilometers offshore.. And rather than strenuous, the sails went up and the deck copped a dozen dozing dudes and dudetalitas while the wind worked for us. We saw a sea cow doing it's thing, very much doing what land cows do.. We saw many a fish, eel, turtle and the mandatory, subtle peek at the mermaidesque girlies along for the dive.. And then were treated with some bottles of rum for the homeward stretch. I also apparently am hip enough for our sudden good friend 'wish willie', a restaurant owner, to put a handful of the lords mighty herb on our table, commanding me to roll for the whole place while he sourced some real gear. The real gear I gracefully declined, but he still insisted half the bottle of JW black was my property for being on joint duty.. And he called me rasta mon and I could have cried.
Belize.. Amazing.
The lazy lope from Belize to Cancun was nothing to report.. Australians really do have the best beaches around, and while the Mexicaribean coast is nothing to violently spit on, it's certainly not something to avoid giving a rasberry.. It's like, meh. Having said that, the hostel on an island called Isla Muhueres shone, it had a good vibe oweing to it's private beach and bar,  volleyball, afternoon drum circles and.. Well, I said private beach right?
Cuba! Got there.. Got in, paid appropriately for a taxi, ate at a restaurant that was good, drank rum then slept. Already owned the place. Day two was living and breathing bliss for a weary wanderer.. If vibe could be bottled Cubas problems would be non existent.. But instead they bottle rum, Because they grow sugar. Makes sense! There's alot of it, it's cheap, and if you aren't drinking by 10am (yes, I was literally capital F fucking Forced to have a mohito with my eggs) then you just don't get it. The place is bizarre. Good bizarre.
We spent some days in Havana, tripping around learning the way of the wayward, the culture of the communist, and feigning amazement when reading that Castro is three things at least:

A: one of cubas best baseball players
B: an amazing tank driver.. He claims he bought down 2 American ships at the bay of pigs
C: a communist leader that actually gives a shit about the proletariat.

Now.. A and b, hmmm.. But C is a tough one. People are poor in Cuba, but people in Cuba don't pay a morgage, don't pay for food, don't pay for education and don't pay for health. And I'll be damned if I saw one Cuban that wasn't.. Well, a little bit chunky. They can earn money off tourists and do in squillions (Cuba is on par cost wise with America, but everything they sell to us is cheap, homegrown or out of date). Sadly, everyone becomes a doctor in Cuba so they aren't skullnumingly bored for 7 years, then work as waiters because there isn't enough illness to go around! And now these poor peasants are getting traded to Venezuela for oil.. People for oil. Like it, communism, what else u got?
The problems with Cuba aren't usual for developing nations, in fact very weird. Their cities were built by some of spain's brightest, but they can't figure out how to keep everything maintained.. Havana is like an aged Sinatra in many ways; the mafia built and funded it, and in its youth it was more hip and swinigin than anything.. But as age progressed, the style grew old. But resurgence! We all love Frank, and we all love 50s cars and men smoking cigars.. Romance breeds in ruins. But it ain't all oldold; remember the Soviets?  
The newer buildings are soviet monstrosities but are functional, dig this: The council operates in one of these ugly apartment blocks while the capital building is a university and research center.. That is literally Castro giving students the white house and the government a tenement in a project to work in.. Inspired stuff. Inspiration.. The nation has alot of it, all sourced from direct heroicism; Whitman, Hawk, Keating.. I'm sure they did graciously on very difficult law exams, but did any of those pussys invade with 60 men a whole country? And WIN? Che was there rifle in hand, Castro set up pirate radio in the mountains to convince a nation that rebellion was freedom.. And the badass actually did it. The blood is still wet in these peoples minds, the fallen heroes are uncles and not great grandfathers, the method modern, guerilla and precise and not archaic images of men all lined up. The people are a heated breath from a tired but tense jawed country. But anyway.
We only had 2 weeks and managed to see several other places, the best of which being Trinidad. The setting is cobbled streets, old Spanish fronted houses, locals with their amazing time wasting abilities on streets talking, playing dominos and slurping the dark sweet stuff...and every night music is supplied by a seemingly endless row of amazing old singers, hyperactive black conga players, maraca shaking ladies and a swing my Miles Davis would drool for. I spent my days there with a young and rough Adelaide boy, guitars in hand, playing to the drunken rhythms of salsa and rhumba while our bandmates squawked and crooned at foreign women with the subtlety of old ruddy billygoats. And obviously loved every second of it.
So. Gaps are to be filled but that's my Cuba for now.. Wasn't so scary but I feel it's impossible to get the one thing I always get.. The vibe is a hard one to describe, the zeitgeist, the spirit of the times.. It's just great there, but it's not good. Castro is one he'll of a man, but a tyrant. People are some of the healthiest and most educated in the world.. But they want to clean toilets in America. I'll need more time to realize the place, but the place needs more too I think.
Done.
So for the last week I have been having a horrible week, trying to sell the car but failing because we apparently never got a real 'title' for the car.. But after 8 days I was told that it couldn't sell for a month.. I said Fuck that, they said fuck you leave it in the street I can't help with Everyones problems sir WELL WHY DO THEY CALL YOUR TABLE A HELP DESK?! I said.
So, I've actually given the keys to the car we paid $4000 for to a guy I met in a bar and asked him to sell it for me. Ha! Let's see how that goes. Ah well, done with NY now. So! As I said, Canada this afternoon, so so happy but so pissed off that the country I wanted to see MOST I only have 12 days in. But ah well. And oops, that's when I'm coming home too.. Mummy can u get me from the airport on the 12th? Thanks!
But really, let's wind this bad boy up, bring it all home without sparing any horses.. The first day we arrived in LA I had a mild sense of fear that has lingered ever slightly in different forms; sometimes about not doing and sometimes about not doing enough. This is my only travel buddy, the third little guy on my shoulder going 'well, are you LIVING yet!?' I always try and tell him yes and that is why my journey has been mighty. We got 14000 km of America under our ever loosening belts, not once officially arrested, hassled, stuck or overwhelmed. We did not get mugged in Mehico, I took more than I left in fact; the temples graciously accepted me and I whimsied mystery about them for their trouble. Many a lobster died for me on the carribean when my friends were mostly 7 ft tall and the colour of my freckles.. Cancun stared at it's feet as I glowered at the Quasi flashy bullshit it was serving up warm, and allowed me passage to a desert island. Beyond all that Cuba propelled my mind so far in a directon i cant understand that I all of a sudden loathe the greedy, capitalistic pigs of the tyrannical U.S, and crave simplicity beyond electricity. That won't last though. I'm coming back me as I'm alway me, easy n free n happy as can be.. And this blog only covers the big story, the front page news of these past 6 months. Buy me booze for the page 4 inquisition, the political analysis, the personals, the sport pages and the 'gig guide'; I'm full of it!!! Ha.
Phew. Well anyway, im coming home. Love n peaceful glassfuls of cheap rum to y'all, thanks for pursuing an interest in the bizarre, blatantly bullshit writings of an ever widening wisdom wanting worldwatcher. Thankyou, merci, gracias, love you, ja teme, je amore. 
Lockie!

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