Bermuda, Bahama, et al

In Florida now, America, where you can buy decent food, and where they still serve breakfasts that would cause your average NZ dietician to have a coronary. You know what I'm talkin' 'bout, waffles, hash browns, fried patties, eggs, and a cup of warm lard.

I expected the keys to be a sleepy back-water, but boy was I wrong. It's heavily developed and full of trailer parks. We took a ride to Key West on the bus, and it's all bridges, trailer parks and shallow water. There were a couple of slightly rangey looking guys in front of me on the bus. They go past this trailer park, and one of them, a mullet wearing dude with a mo' goes "That's real cheap, twelve hundred a month", and then, as we go over a bridge, this boat speeds past, Miami Vice styles, with two babes on the front with their augmented cleavage held in check by tiny triangles of cloth. The male inhabitants of the bus let out a whoop, and the mullet guy goes "That, that right there!", and you know what, he was right, that right there was the American dream, except that it was the shirtless dudes on the boat, living it and not us. Right then I understood the cruelty of the gap between the haves and have nots, and realised where castro went wrong, and I vowed that when the revolution comes in New Zealand, that there would be boats and barbie dolls for all.

I met a Cuban guy this morning (apparently all Spanish speakers around here are Cuban), his name was Alberto or Umberto or something. He had come to clean the diesel on the boat, which had been giving us a few problems. I asked him how he had come to America, and he told me that he, his wife, and his friend had comandered a small 10 foot fishing boat, some 14 years ago. They had oars as their only form of propulsion, and for supplies they had water, dried fish and caffeine pills. It took them 72 solid hours of rowing, and his wife came close to death.

I asked him how often he went back, and he said about twice a year. I asked him if he would consider going back to live, and he looked at me and snorted and said "Come on, man". His family are here, his wife is here, money is here.
I asked what he missed about Cuba. He said the people, as they were more honest and friendly. When asked about his feelings on Castro, he said "He's gonna die. I hope that [string of expletives] dies, man." He said now in America, he works all the time. When things change, this guy wants to go back to Cuba, with all his earnings and start a marina. I wished him good luck.