So in Santiago de Cuba I fell – right on the curb, with bottles of water in my hands, in the middle of the street. It wasn’t like I tripped on something, my ankle just decided to give up on me for a second and I literally just fell forward onto the street. I picked myself up and laughed it off, but in my head I just wanted to be a child and cry! I was just starting to feel better after being sick for a few days and my day so far hadn’t been awesome – a lot of little things seemed to have got the better of me.
As I was walking away feeling sorry for myself I looked around at where I was and felt like giving myself a slap in the face. I was in Cuba, a country that has definitely had its fair share of bad days and at a much larger scale than I ever have and still seemed to carry on in a incredibly happy manner. So I did what any Cuban would do – I went and brought myself a 5 peso slice of pizza, ate a scoop of ice cream from the coppelia, had a rum, listened to music on the streets and went dancing!