4th Jan

Well, it's official.I don't think coming to Cuba was a good decision. I should really have gone elsewhere, I hate to say it, more touristy, to learn my Spanish. I'm finding it really difficult being here not knowing anyone with no reading material, no TV and not much to see and the few days have been a real challenge over new year etc. It's also ridiculously expensive and I'm rapidly running out of money which is a concern given that there are no ATMs and nowhere takes credit cards. Hey ho, am sure it will be fine and I have less than a week to go here in Trinidad before I move on, possibly to a beach for a few days to do some diving or something.

Anyway, on New Year's Eve, Andrea and I went to someone's house (relatives of Carlos') to say hi but they were all wasted (it was only 9pm) and singing and dancing around like idiots! We stayed for 1 drink and then made our excuses. Midnight came and went and I was in bed by about 1am feeling very sorry for myself - again!

We'd been told that everything closes on New Year's Day so I occupied myself until about 3 and then went out for some fresh air. Typically, everything was open so I could have gone to the beach or somewhere. Never mind, I went and sat in an outdoor bar and was studying my verbs when an old guy came over and asked if he could sit down and talk to me. This started off quite well as it was good practise for me as he didn't speak any English. But then he started getting a bit personal so I had to tell him to go away! He kept trying to buy me a drink which I kept refusing so as soon as he disappeared I bought myself one and then what happens? He comes back and shouts at me for not letting him buy me one. Now I'm avoiding that place (even though it's the nicest place in Trinidad) as his music group performs there so I know he'll always be there.

Andrea left on Saturday morning and I decided to go on the steam train to the Valle de los Ingenios which was the centre of the 19th century sugar trade. The train ride was slow and painful and the dirt was incredible - I couldn't breathe. Of course, being the miserable tourists that seem to frequent Cuba, nobody bothered to tell me that I had a big clump of black soot in the middle of my face. I only noticed it a few hours later when I went to the loo!

Saturday night I decided to be brave and go out so I chose a place that has a nightly Afro-Cuban music and dance show so it wasn't so obvious that I was on my own - plus you're just asking to be hassled if you go to a bar on your own here - if they're not asking you FOR money and sex, they're asking you ABOUT money and sex.

I had another one of my "that seemed like a good idea at the time" experiences on Sunday and decided to go on a horseback riding tour of the countryside. Now, considering, believe it or not, I have never been on a horse in my life (mules, donkeys, camels, heffalumps - no problem!), I'm not sure that I should have chosen a Communist and 3rd world country for my first experience. Not only that, but a guide who didn't explain any of the steering instructions nor where the brake and accelerator pedals are and my phrase book doesn't cater for the equestrian novice. Still, this seems to be turning into a trip of trying new things and facing my fears. The first challenge was getting onto the thing without throwing myself off the other side. I think the old man took great enjoyment in grabbing my arse to help me up. So, once up there in the dizzy heights, it wasn't too bad and I was looking forward to a lazy amble along the tarmac roads. Ha! Yeah right. No such luck. No, we were going off-road into the mountains on pathways that were full of stones and had a sheer drop on one side. Now, my horse seemed to like to go fast and I had no idea how to slow it down. Being a Spanish-speaking horse "whoa" didn't seem to cut it and as I was screeching and swearing like a trooper, I instinctively yanked on the reins (well, by reins I mean a bit of scraggy rope) and it lifted its head (at which point I thought it was going to do a buckaroo) and slowed down. Aha! But then, I didn't know where the accelerator was and, again, "giddy-up" didn't work. At that point, the guide whacked it on the bum with a stick and it set of at an alarming rate. He kept giving me a stick to hit my horse with but I didn't want to g o any faster so kept accidentally on purpose dropping my stick. Needless to say, I had a fairly stressful day trying to stay on my horse (seems you need an arse of steel, an accomplished sense of balance and the ability to second-guess what your horse will do next). 6 hours later, I was downing my 2nd beer and nursing a very bruised bottom!

On Sunday night, another girl arrived - Tanja from Switzerland. Seems a popular destination for the Swiss. She's the 3rd or 4th Swissie I've met in the last few weeks and it's been quite an eye-opener. Having worked for 2 Swiss banks and only come into contact with Swiss people working there, I had assumed that everyone spoke perfect English - a bit like the Dutch or Scandinavians who speak better English than we do! How wrong was I? In my new sample population, I have discovered that they don't speak good English at all. Who would have thought it? So, I am now practising my very rusty German and speaking with her in German the whole time. In theory this is great as it gets me back in the swing except now I'm getting really confused in my Spanish lesson and coming out with a whole mish mash of languages including some random Japanese words!

Not much happened during the rest of the week - Spanish lessons in the morning, faffing around during the afternoon and salsa lessons in the evening followed by getting into bed at 8pm to keep warm. On Friday afternoon it was a bit warmer so Tanja and I went to the beach. As we were negotiating our taxi fare there, anther tourist emerged and asked if she could join us. Ray from Australia. Spent the afternoon on the beach (well, I sat for about 30 minute and spent the rest of the time in the bar with Ray!). Went to the Casa de la Musica for the last time on Friday evening but it was cold and the only person who asked me to dance was an old geezer who couldn't dance himself. I give up!