Ghost Stories and Truck Drivers

Buenos Tardes.

Around 1840 in Argentina a womans husband was recruited in the army to fight in the civil war. Fighting difficult conditions, hunger and lots of men with guns he became sick. Upon hearing this news Delinda Correa decided she needed to be with her husband. Baby in tow Senora Correa followed the tracks of the Montaneras in hopes of curing her husband and avoiding becoming a young widow. It wasnt long though that she ran out of supplies and water and died in the San Juan province in western Argentina. It was days until her body was found by passing gauchos (farmers). The story that continues today is that the gauchos found the baby still alive suckling on its monthers ever full breast.

Word spread, slowly at first, but soon got out of control. At the suposed site of her death a shrine was built, soon the shrine drew a few houses, the houses grew into a village and then into a town. Today centred aournd the shrine exists the town of Vallecito, home to over 17 chapels dedicated to this miraculous woman. Stories bacame spreading of miracles performed by the ghost of Correa, saving truck drivers from burning wrecks and keeping lost children alive for days. On Easter Sunday over 200,000 people make their way to her shrine and ask for her help.

Officially she is not a recognised saint so technically she is a ghost. Left terribley thirsty and doing miracolous things for devotees.

In fact she is so popular with truck drivers they have made a shirne for her every 500km or so. To keep her working for them they leave a water bottle to quench her enternal thrist. They park, run over to the shrine, leave a water bottle, pray a little and then run back to their car and cruise at about 50km over the limit without lights down route 40.

To be honest in I was Delinda Correa I'd be pissed off. I'd be think DAMN I'm dead, I dont need the water now! If you are going to leave anything at my shrine why dont you make it cake or cheese, better yet cheesecake!

If you bit the dust and people were to leave something at your shrine, what would you like in the afterlife?

Keeping you awake with ghost stories in Buenos Aires,

Mike

Kiss Me If You Can!

Along with people playing with their ringtones on public transport, talking loudly in public spaces, public displays of affection (PDAs) are high on peoples list of pet hates. Why? Well I guess it could have something to do with being involved with other peoples interment moments or simply you think that making out in public is a little off putting because you are afraid that you look like that when you are passionately kissing someone. Any way you look at it, seeing a serious make out session or 'pash' in public gives you that awkward little feeling in your stomach and makes you look away as quickly as possible.

Well here in South America PDAs are not a problem in fact they are celebrated. What? How can you celebrate PDAs? It is easy to celebrate a PDA and South Americans are good at it, well the youth anyway.

Walking through La Paz can leave you feeling a little on edge, seeing semi naked people being wiped down by a missionary or seeing a beggar with serious illness mumble dispasionatly about spare change not only trying to hide his physical and mental illness but his guilt and shame as well. You may feel a little overcautious or scared but if you were to walk through Plaza Murrillo in front of the cathedral you may be overwhelmed by awkwardness and a need to flee as soon as possible. Benches lined from end to end of youthful people making out like they have never kissed someone and will never again. With over at least 15 benches in the park and space enough on each bench to fit 3 kissing couples you are looking at over 45 PDAs celebrated by under sexed over religious youth.

In Argentina you may feel pretty safe walking most streets. The people are friendly, the area is relatively crime free but be warned street corners, parks and plazas are prime sites of PDA awkwardness. Kiss kiss, breathe... pause... kiss kiss kiss. 'GET A ROOM' may fly through your mind and then it hits you. Catholic kids in a Catholic country have no where else to go to be together. Away from parent's prying and overbearing eyes these youths flock to the streets to get a taste (literally) of passion and dear I say it... sex!

With 71% of the population Roman Catholic,0 and a rather large percentage of the remaining Christian, these poor kids are doomed to a youth of PDAs and sexual frustration. Maybe a sexy salsa or tango session will help ease the pain but the only way to really bust out is to kiss someone in public as passionately or intimately as possible.

So if PDA are your thing enjoy them like South Americans, if not well be like me and look away, push down the awkward feelings and hope you don't look as awkward as they do when you kiss someone.

Ciao for now
Mikey

Spanish Directness and Inadvertant Political Incorrectedness

The Spanish language can be stunningly poetic, romantic and in some case beautiful. Certain phrases translated into English can leave you on the verge of tears or make you instantly fall in love with the speaker. Certain Spanish language phrases come to mind. A perfect example is how Spanish speakers say to give birth; dar la luz (to give to the light or give light) or I cried; Las lasgrimas me saliaron (the tears left me). Is your heart on the edge of it's seat? If it isn't you have a heart of stone!
Aside from having a poetic tongue Spanish speakers are allowed the luxury of being direct and not wasting words as 'fill'. Words such as 'claro' can be: sure, no worries, I told you so, sure thing, I knew it, don't you know it etc... This directness has come to lead to some very awkward and some funny moments throughout this little romp around Cuba and South America. The problem isn’t how the locals speak, it’s how it sounds translated. In Cuba a Scottish girl with Asian features was referred to as ‘chinita’ Little Chinese. In Mexico while playing Spanish bingo in the hostel the black man in the picture was referred to as ‘nigger’. In Columbia a Spanish girl referred to the arrival of black people in Cuba to an African American guy as ‘the nigger slaves were sent to Cuba...’ These phrases have continued to lead to pretty awkward moments. Awkward moments aside poorly translated hostel signs can be pretty funny too; ‘Please not make sex in dorm rooms’, ‘make party not make war’ , ‘please dip toilet paper in bin not water please’.
So if travelling in South America or Spain you’re guaranteed to cringe at poorly translated politically incorrect terms but don’t let this ruin your holiday. Roll with it and you can just roll right over it and put it down to language barriers claro!

In Mendoza drinking wine,
Mike

Snakes, Fridges and Bingo: A Survival Guide to Busing from Cuba to Argentina

The roads snake their way from Coast, through jungle, across deserts and over mountain passes. These sometimes treacherous paths link you to South Americas 'must see, must do' locations. If you decide to travel South America and are time rich and money poor than this is the mode of transport is defiantly for you.

If you decide that busing around South America is on the cards there are a few things you need to know if you are going to survive the trip without:


A. Going a little crazy

B. Losing some appendages from frost bite

C. Being caught with the very likely possibility of soiling your pants

D. Dying (in the very literal sense of the word).


However don't be afraid of these terrible 'maybes'. They are all quite easily (in most cases) avoidable. Just do the right thing and you'll be spared some of the most embarrassing or terrible moments of your life.


A. Going crazy is a very real possibility, especially if you are riding a bus from anywhere between 18-100hours. The real trick here is to have any entertainment device fully charged and set to battery saving mode well before the trip. Getting caught with a dead MP3 player only 2 hours into the trip is worse than forgetting to wear underwear while wearing itchy woolen pants. If you are one lucky enough to be able to read on the bus, well then, I hate you (with all the heart of my green eyed monster). Mastering 1 or 2 player games which don't require cards or dice can come pretty handy. For example poison finger (a game I invented which can entertain for hours if not make the other person go completely nuts in seconds). Choose one finger and make the other person choose all the other fingers you didn't initially choose, if they choose the 'poison finger' you win! (WARNING: Bus offered entertainment may include but is not limited to: Shinia Twain live in Chicago (2 times in one trip!), Ricky Martin live in Europe, the complete collection of Marcus Antonia Solis and terrible straight to video Richard Gear movies)


B. Imagine you step on a bus in tropical Cuba or Colombia and it is 38oC and humid as hell. It's so damn uncomfortable you spend all day sleeping to forget how uncomfortable you are. Then you step on the 17hour bus. Ahh! It's cool, it's nice, it's 17oC? Great! Maybe for the first five minutes. Frost bite on overnight bus trips is common. Come prepared with socks, sleeping bag, pillow and if you cant stand Richard Gear or Shinia Twain bring your ear plugs.

C. South American food induced stomach and bowel problems are high on the list of problems for all travellers trying to do something or get somewhere. There may be a time when at 6 in the morning, after eating a terrible dinner at 2am at a bus station, when you may be desperately needing the bathroom. BIG problem considering there is a queue AND the toilet is 'solo para orinar' (only for wee). Eventually you figure with horrifying desperation that your movements will be the consistency of wee and that if you don't get to the toilet than an underwear change WILL be necessary. What to do in times like this. Firstly always travel with a change of underwear and potentially pants. Secondly learn to meditate through the pains. Thirdly build certain muscle which help you hold the force of your bowel movements in, at least for the 3 or so minutes you will have to wait. If it helps imagine a little wizard standing on a bridge screaming at your bowel monster 'You shall not pass!'.

D. At 3am you drive past a crash, both cars have been up ended and there is a body lying in the middle of the road covered in a sheet. You realise that this could easily be you. In many South American countries drivers are reckless, they don't have seat belts fitted in the car, they don't drive with their lights on at night and often drive on the opposite side of the road to avoid potholes. Maybe you will ride a 'Diablo Rojo' (pictured above). These buses cruise Panama and are old USA school buses which failed saftey checks. Apparently without emergency exits this beasts are known to catch on fire from the engine at the front. This fire traps those in the bus and burns all alive without hope of escape. You can't stop thinking 'please don't kill me!' This is something you have very little control over. Be aware, wear a seatbelt, avoid dodgy roads (if possible) and don't sit at the front of the bus and lastly hope you aren't on the wrong end of any collision.

All this said, don't be afraid of South American buses. They are a great cheap way to move around this beautiful continent. Generally they are clean and comfortable and have (to date) got me everywhere I needed to be without problems.

Good luck Travelers,

Mikey Fitz in Buenos Aires

A crappy system; A survival guide to South American toileting

If you are offended by potty language or shit talk (excuse the french nan and pop) then now is your chance to tune out!

How strong are your thighs? When was the last time you made time to do some squat thrusts? How good is your balance? How resistant are you to terrible smells? Well all these would come in handy when travelling South America.

A daily occurrence, for most people, is a trip once or twice to the toilet. Technically your body is designed to 'evacuate' every 30 minutes after a medium to large meal. However depending on the amount of fibre in the diet, the amount of water consumed and the regularity and type of exercise, healthy bowel movements should occur 2-3 times a day. This is not counting the times when stomach bugs strike (travellers stomach) or when you are eating particularly spicy or foreign food types.

Now with this in mind a clean toilet, a wad of toilet paper and a toilet seat can be considered closer to you than a good friend and more comfortable than a soft bed. These things, unfortunately, are a rarity in South America. In fact a toilet itself, in some places, can also be hard to come by. You often come to the point where it hurts to hold it in any longer, when you have finally found a toilet after hours of searching, you have paid the attendant $1-2 to get past, you bust open the broken cubical door (if it is actually there) and you find a 'toilet'. No seat, no paper, dirty and, wow, the stench makes you dry-retch. What to do, what to do? Here is when your strong thigh muscles, balance and ability to deal with smells comes in handy.

In 2005 the population of South America was 371,090,000, excluding travellers. Now if these people follow the rules that means each day a toilet is used 111 327 0000 times. You'd think that with this figure in mind the people would cherish the porcelain bowl! If you were of this mind, you'd be in for a shock.

So my advice for you would be as follows; Build thigh strength, B.Y.O toilet paper and soap, learn to hold you breath for extended periods of time and finally get in and (get it) out as quickly as possible.

Sorry to dump such a post, I just had to deposit my knowledge of South American toilets on this blog... Ok Ok no more.

In Argentina,
Mikey Fitz

Spike the guinea pig

Did you have a guinea pig when you were young? Maybe you have one now? I did. His name was Spike, he had light brown fur with black spots and the biggest eyes you could possibly have on an animal that size. He was a cute little critter. He passed away in summer from over heating. It was a sad day when we found him still in his little cage dad had made for him.
How do you like your guinea pigs? Maybe you like them white with creamy spots, tiny with cute little bows tied in their hair, perhaps you like them warm and cuddly? No? How about deep fried or slow roasted over coals?
Thats right Peruvian fair has a guinea pig flair! As national dish cuy (Quechua for guinea pig) has become a highly important part of the Peruvian diet. Peruvians consume an estimated 65million cuy a year. The little guys are stripped of their hair and roasted, deep fried, marinated or barbecued.
Did I hear you say yum or was that a utterance of disgust? If you are like me and don't fancy eating a cooked rodent served to you in full (minus the stomach but including the brain and all other internal organs), then I'm sure it was the latter. But don't tut too soon at those who choose to eat these furry little animals. Domesticated around 5000BCE in the Andean region, they are easy to keep and breed as quickly as rabbits. They are cheap for families who can't afford to kill Betsy the milk cow or Alana the Llama and can be raised in urban environment. Apparently they are tastier than rabbit and creamier than chicken.
Now I'm sure your thinking, Mike you are a chicken for not grabbing a knife and fork and picking the meat off the tiny bones and enjoying this Peruvian dish. Maybe you are right.
Maybe next time I won't be so coy about eating cuy.

With love,
Mike

Lima, What can I get you?

Hola, buenos dias. ¿Quieras algo?

Driving around Peru's capital Lima is not without its advantages nor it's disadvantages. The smog soaked streets are difficult to navigate. You have to be pretty damn good to avoid suicidal pedestrians, old carts laden with fruit driven by the older folk of the neighbourhood, men moving a whole lounge set on a little trolley along the main avenue and the colectivos. The colectivos are mini-buses driven by mini-men with an inflamed tendency to leave their sanity at home before work. Shooting in and out of traffic like a hungry mouse in a maze, driven by the smell of the cheese, these buses hustle for their passengers. Normally so full, people are hanging out the doors for dear life, these buses are hard to miss for both the eye and for the slightly to heavily battered cars that cram Lima's streets.

Coughing your way though this traffic in a hot car can easily scare off the weary or easily spooked tourist. Do not fear though, the people of Lima have the answer, an excuse to hop in the car rather than walk or take a colectivo. Touts, vendors and jack of all trades.

Sitting in your car at a traffic jam or long red light will, without any doubt, give you the chance to buy, be entertained or at a minimum have a good chat with one of the many trying to make their money off motorists. Jugglers and mimes seem to be the main form of entertainment which weaves it's way between the traffic, although sometimes you see men playing the tin can and singing.

If you are short of anything, these people will either have it for sale or know someone very close by who does. A water bottle, water purification tablets, torches, gum, glue, chocolate, stationery, cookies and even, in some case, icecream.

Unfortunately due to the high levels of poverty in this overcrowded city, these people are desperate. Buying something may in some cases feel slightly more like charity with a perk. It becomes difficult to have to say no to people all the time. How much help and money can you actually give before you yourself are caught in a hard place. A question which I'm sure plagues more tourist than just me.

Of Peru's 29 million(+) population nearly 45% of people live below the poverty line, a daily sight on the busy Lima streets. With unemployment slowly climbing the locals have little option but to do what it takes to surivive in this rapidly growing city. The gut wrenching sight of Peruvians lining the streets in one of Lima's richest suburbs, Miraflores, selling whatever they can lay their hands on, does nothing to revitalise your faith in humanity nor in easily corruptable power hungry democratic systems.

So the purchase of a piece of gum, a pair shoelaces or a few nuevo soles (Peruvian currency) will not go astray. Enjoy the show and the snack and feel, if only a little, better as you make your way through Lima's energetic, living and breathing streets.

Besos from Lima,
Mikey Fitz

What's your flavour?

Bogota, the capital of the world's highest cocaine production, is home to a surprising past time. Sure cocaine can be purchased from anyone aged 8 and up along the well known bar strips and yes it seems that Colombian sex shops also, almost always, double as joke shops (I'm sure there is a private joke somewhere in it's origin) but Bogota is known for something else slightly less sinister yet equally as wicked. So Bogota, tell me, what's your flavour?

Now I've heard stories and have friends that indulge in this past time on a daily basis, although their efforts in this activity fades in comparison to the local's sheer determination not to be out-done.

What is this past time you ask? Flavour mixing. What? That's right, in Bogota there are no rules of engagement when it comes to food.
What weird combinations are you known for? Peanut butter and cheese? Icecream and hot sauce? Vegemite and avocado? Ham and jam sandwiches?

Well if you are into your weird food combinations Bogota is the place for you.Do you want sugar on your steak? How bout a spoonful of salt on that fresh pineapple? Nope? Well at least you have to try our cheese, condensed milk and guava pastry!

If none of these work for you, you are not weird, they don't for me either. However there has been one combination that I have fallen for and it comes served to you for about $3 in Cafe Florida in the heart of the cities old town. Hot chocolate and a cheese sandwich. Not weird? No not at all, except you are expected to dip your cheese sandwich in the hot chocolate! The soggy sweet chocolaty bread and slightly melt cheese makes the world feel right again. If John Lennon really was serious about peace his songs all would have included this recipe for success.
Don't knock it till you've tried it! So, tell me, what's your flavour?

With Love,
Mikey Fitz

Columbian Drivers

Climbing into a vehicle driven by a Columbian is not for the weak hearted. If you suffer from anything ranging from mild heart problems, motion sickness, to anxiety then this recreational past time is not for you.

In Columbia riding in a car or a bus stops being a means of getting from A to B and quickly becomes an extreme sport.

It's difficult to know who or what to blame for these raucous rides but there is no doubt you know exactly what you are getting yourself into when you step through the door and ease yourself into the worn seat.

Maybe it's the four lane freeways that don't actually have any lanes or it could be that Columbian have too much on there minds to be thinking about silly little things like road rules and personal safety. No surely it's that I'm missing the subtleties in the Columbian road rules. Didn't you know that the speed limit signs are meant to be multiplied by 4 and that you only indicate when you want stop in the middle of the road to re-tie the boxes of live chickens back onto the back of your scooter.

Taking a bus is equally as entertaining as it is spine jarring. Cruising down a steep hill and taking hair pin turns at more than 50km an hour one handed over dirt roads in the dark and in torrential rain while narrowly missing the commonly found landslide debris is all part of the fun. Don't fear though Columbian regulations means that you have to display your speed to the passengers, as a form of safety and security for the frightened cargo. So if you were already worried by the harrowing adventure at least you know that your driver is doing triple the speed limit while drinking his heavily sugared coffee to stop his eyes from closing at 4 in the morning.

Columbia, I love you but I don't really love your drivers. Roller-coasters are fun but not every day.

From Medellin with love,
Mikey

Panama City, San Blas and the SY Maluco!

Hola!
This entry finds me tired, sweaty and a few hundred clicks closer to the equator. After posting a long awaited entry about the Cuba leg I figured it's time to catch up while the Internet is fast and free.

A week after flying from Cuban shores I find myself in Columbia. I took the least direct route possible to get here. A very early morning flight took me from Cuba's Havana to Panama City. The change was instantaneous and left me a little 'reversed-culture' shocked. Vending machines littering the airport spoke of the things to come. Wow there is food here, lots of it! Oh look a car made in the last 10 years! Wow look at the billboards, they aren't pushing government messages, this time it's Nike oh look that one is for hair dye, what a strange and seemingly unimportant thing to put on such a large billboard! These thoughts came out in little outbursts of noise, generally high pitch gasps or low humming and hawing. These sights, which i grew up with, seemed so alien and so pointless.

Panama City is cool, it's growing like a little Dubai, thriving after they took control of the famous canal which splits their country in two. There is money there and lots of it, but saddled up nice and tight next to these amazing over-the-top construction sites are slum cities, areas in which even the police are afraid to go. I can't comment too much on the city itself nor the country because as it turned out we had to make a run for the coast to make the SY Maluco sail boat to Columbia. From what I saw and heard, I would love to go back and explore Panama, so much to see.

So en-route to Puerto Lindo we passed the canal, Jurassic park-like rain forest (minus the velocoraptors) and managed to find our way to the sleepy little bay where rested our Venezuelan Captain John and his wife Eleene. We boarded the SY Maluco and set sail to the San Blas archipelago, a serious of 100's of picture-perfect tropical paradise islands inhabitant by the local Indians, the Kuna people.

The first day was hell, an 8 hour journey to the islands was spent in total motion sickness, avoiding actually being physically sick through a combination of meditation and sleep. The next days proved to be the best relaxing, swimming, snorkeling and relaxing (did I say that twice?) I've done in a long time.

The islands were perfect, the water was warm and clean and the sun shone bright from morning to night. The stars were unhindered by any light pollution and the rain during the early hours of the morning cooled things down.

Unfortunatly all good things end, as did the island stay and thus starting the 36hour sail to Cartagena in Columbia. It wasn't easy but I managed, no real sea sickness but the endless water and the sun's heat was, at some points, unbearable. It was nice to set foot on land again but my sea legs made the first few hours difficult. I have come to the definite conclusion that I am no sailor nor will I ever have a desire to be so, but I did love the cruisy island life and in some ways envy the life of John and Eleene.

From Columbia,

Mikey Fitz

Cuba: Colour, Communism, Contradictions

Ahh Cuba.

When you step off the plane you feel Cuba's heat wash over you like a wave. This heat brings with it a scent of things to come and leaves you wanting more. Cuba, you learn pretty quickly, actually lives and breathes, you can feel it's heartbeat if you stand still for long enough.

Driving from the airport you are taken from cane fields to a colourful Havana, the place you imagined, the people you thought you would see, the cigar smoke you knew would hang heavy in the air. However after a few short hours a change in you will grow that you cannot deny, a change that will fester the longer you linger in Cuba's interesting socialist paradise.

Cuba without a doubt is a beautiful country, rich in history, (in)famous for it's revolutionaries and a stubborn little survivor in a capitalist world. Cuba however was a surprise, it came close to proving every preconceived idea I had about Cuba to be almost completely wrong. I learnt and confirmed it over the month I spent roaming Cuba's lush soils, that although Cuba lives and breathes, it's breath is closer to a smokers wheeze than a soft breeze and its heart beat is tired and slow.

Cuba is and isn't what you think it is, its loved and hated at the same time, it is communism that supports a small minority getting rich off capitalism more than it supports the people. The people are tired, they seem to have lost the energy they were so proud of in the 60s and 70s. They have been scarred by Fidels 'special period' and the use of the insufficient ration cards, they are sick of the rich getting richer and the poor staying poor. The people of Cuba seem to be waiting, whether its on a stoop smoking a cigar or napping with pistol in lap at a desk guarding some unknown warehouse entrance. Waiting for change but: too scared? tired? respectful of their benevolent leader Fidel? to make these changes. These questions I could not figure out nor could i peer any deeper into the lives, ideas or feelings of this country. It is strictly forbidden, not necessarily by the government (although there are jail sentences if you bad mouth the government and rewards if you dob in your neighbor), but these people do not like or want to reveal the true nature of this county.

In Cuba the traveller in you is forcefully pushed aside to the tourist in you. You are forced onto tourist only buses to tourist only restaurants to tourist only parks. Leave these places at your own peril. Dangerous? No! Outside these tourist zones is nothing, no food for sale, in fact no food, the locals surviving on there meager rations and a hard days toil in the fields. So fully air-conditioned buses take you along the well worn tourist path guided by the invisible and in your face government, with their political billboards and state supported graffiti artists.
I did enjoy Cuba but the lack of necessities, the poverty living side by side with the rich and the endless hustlers offering you cheap cigars and women eventually gets you down. They wear you out, or at least your ability to see the bright side of this Caribbean island and its people.

All this aside, there are some very beautiful people and some areas in which the communist system function to the people's greatest benefit. Small communities thrive and networks exist which allow each and every friend, partner, family member or fellow Cubano to benefit from tourism. Casas link you to other Casas, taxis suggest their friends first, restaurants (when they have no food, which is quite common) will send you to another which offers equally Cuban food. One particulary funny and sad moment was when we visited a government run pizza chain, sat down and were given the menus. The waiter came out a few moments later and informed us that 'tonight we have no pizza'. They simply lacked the ingredients to make the base.

I loved Cuba and but I couldn't love the daily contradictions the people face. I loved many of the people I met and the places they lived but I couldn't love the restrictions and hardships these people faced. Cuba truly is a puzzle, a maze for the learner and a riddle I couldn't quite figure out.

Cuba is: Colour, Communism but most of all Cuba is a living, breathing contradiction.

Yours truly,

Mikey Fitz

Touch down in Mexico City

Hola!

Here we are in Mexico City! After a epic but un eventful 26hours of travel we touched down in Mexico City airport just before midnight on the Wednesday that lasted 40hours (as we crossed the international date line) . I instantly fell in love with Mexico as it seems that nearly everyone we had met on the way to the hostel were happy and helpful.

We took a walking tour of the city the next morning after a breakfast of fresh tortillas and discovered the history of this slowly sinking city. We visited an Aztec temple, a strange hotel that acts as a brothel during the night, passed a statue of pope Jean Paul made out of 10million melted down keys donated by the locals and ate blue corn tortillas stuffed with chicken and cheese and covered in hot jalapeno sauce.

This city has a fantastic energy with a clear dangerous undertow which only pokes it's head out at night in certain areas.

We also visited Frida Kahlo's house and explored the cities outer edges via a hot and cramped metro.

Mexico City has been good to me so far and although I am only passing on my way to Cuba I have been pleasantly surprised with this place and I am very keen to return and travel this fascinating country.

Tomorrow I head to Cuba with excitement and a little apprehension.

As I read graffitied on the toliet door "how vain is the man who sits to write who has not stood to live". On that advice I'm off to explore!

Adios!
Mike

1 day till lift off!

Hey!

Well it's the 6th of July 2010 and exactly 1 day before I'm due at Kingsford Smith airport in Sydney. I'm pretty excited about this trip. A South American adventure.
So the basic itinerary is as follows: Mexico, Cuba, Panama, Columbia, Peru, Bolivia, Chile and finally Argentina.
In this blog I will post my adventures and misadventures as I stumble through countries I've always wanted to visit. I hope you enjoy this blog and i look forward to hearing from you over the next four months!
Just as a note throughout the 1st month I will have limited internet access so if you dont hear from me that does not mean i have been kidnapped or have decided to stay beyond my visas in tropical Cuba!
Hope all is well. Blast off tomorrow at 1pm. Speak to you next from Sunny South America!
Adios!
Mikey Fitz