Cuba seemed to be positioned similarly as Americans have poured into the country in the last few years. As I was driven around the streets of Havana in their iconic vintage cars, we passed areas of construction. “A new hotel. It will be beautiful and facing the Malecon too,” my driver explained. The Malecon, considered the family sofa of Old Havana, is a low bearing stone wall that separates the streets from the bay. Every night that I passed by the mile long Malecon, people gathered in large numbers, enjoying a beer, the simplicity of the stars sparkling on the water and music playing in the distance. It was prime real estate for new hotels and more tourist traps, but commercialism tends to drive local traditions away. I let out a heavy sigh, grateful that I had, at least, successfully beat McDonalds to Cuba. But, once I finally return again,
Tag: solo travel
I’ve lived in Miami for all of 5 minutes and it’s time to evacuate. So here I am, sitting in a Tallahassee airport at 3am writing about Miami instead of enjoying it. And of course I can’t think about Miami without thinking about my time in Cuba. [click the link for more]
Well after people get over the fact that I’m hardly home (but always reppin’), they ask, as a nomad, how I will ever establish a sense of stability? After a little over a year, I’ve encountered thousands of people, many languages, various cultures and a rainbow of different outlooks on life. Travel became my addiction
“Another round?” Shamelessly, I wanted to visit with Enrique again and of course claim my 3rd glass of his velvety port. ”Guapa. You are having fun?” Call me guapa one more time, I thought mischievously. “Yes! And I’m going dancing with you tonight!” His eyes widened as he smiled. “Bryan me invita!” I explained in my broken Spanish.
On a solo retreat, when my private grotto became a lipsync stage. Enjoying the breeze and Rihanna’s Love on the Brain in Jamaica.
Between today and my last post, it's been 3 months! I have visited Montego Bay, Jamaica… Toronto, Canada… Condado, Puerto Rico… London, UK… and La Habana Vieja, Cuba… to name a few. I have also relocated to Chicago, IL from Dallas, TX. A lot has transpired during my hiatus. And as much as I will
In early February, I received a notification for an Instagram “like” from an account I had never heard of. Upon reading the name, @lasmorenasdeespana, my excitement was immediate as I clicked through to its page. Morena, brown girl, that was me! De España, from Spain, like my father. What was I about to find? I
After a long day’s journey through the sites of Mardrid, the sun was low in the sky as I stumbled upon Mercado de San Miguel. My eyes feasted on the crystal clear glass structure being held up by iron beams winding across the ceiling. Through the walls, you could see produce displayed like a vibrant