This post is also available in: Italiano (Italian)

Traveling to poor countries is beautiful and true, both good and bad, especially when independent.

As you may have guessed from reading this blog, everything does not always go well for me when traveling. Usually when you read travel stories everyone reports only positivity. Well, never before in Cuba have I experienced the unpleasant feeling of being a wallet with legs. We should have paid more attention to certain articles like this one.

Traveling to poor countries, all is not always well

The second night in Havana was a riot of shenanigans. We started softly, standing in line at a recommended restaurant, we were approached by a guy who claimed to work in there but was on break and advised us to go to his kitchen restaurant where we would eat better; he would take us. What a nice pair of wimps!

Everyone who approaches you always asks if you are in Havana for the first time and for how many days, that way they understand how much they can take advantage of you, evidently we were juicy prey on the first day.

I open a parenthesis. The vast majority of travelers have wonderful experiences in Cuba; we, partly due to a variety of circumstances, have been victims of events as negative as they are unusual.

The fact remains that the situation in the country is disastrous, not only because of the lack of freedom but also because of the economy; which is in meltdown because of the mistakes of the regime (in what dictatorial regime, in history, have the people ever been decent?) to which have been added the limitations due to the U.S. embargo from which obviously only ordinary people suffer. Having said that, I find it normal, even if in some cultures it is not, that for them we Westerners are simply wallets with legs from which they try to take something, perhaps through little scams or shenanigans. If I were Cuban maybe I would do that too.

Both men and women, in Cuba see you as a wallet with legs, each in their own way.

Full of women in Cuba, just besieged

Returning to our super evening, not satisfied with the restaurant rip-off, we got into a cab and made another serious mistake, we asked for advice to go and listen to some music. We meant real musicians and live music. Instead, he took us to a very ordinary nightclub that soon turned out to be a den of more or less professional prostitutes looking for customers.

We had no intention of getting paid escorts and turned down about 20 girls. Exhausted from rejecting them, as I kept texting with Romania, I told one that I was gay.

One came worried and curious to ask why we had sent all the others away. I would have left long ago, but I should have left my friend there who wanted to stay instead. Until two approached who I don’t know how convinced him that they were there to have fun like normal girls .

Puzzled I agreed to take them to the casa particular to chat more quietly, without having understood why we went there in 2 separate cabs. We had a couple of beers. We had rooms next to each other and I don’t know how I found myself alone in the room with one, the mulatto one. She asked me to go to the bathroom, in the meantime I took a few sips of the beer she had already opened. Before long she came out completely naked, and there I admit that my intention to be faithful to the one I hadn’t even seen yet faltered, but I didn’t have time to do anything.

In fact, she asked me to lie down in bed and turn my back so she could give me a massage. After all, so far I hadn’t done anything wrong yet, although the chick was definitely endearing.

Unforgettable awakening

I woke up the next day with a big headache, of course I was alone. I went to my friend who was much worse off than I was and couldn’t get up.

Then we discovered that far from our eyes, they had poured a narcotic(horse anesthetic) that put us instantly to sleep. They had stolen from us about 1,500 euros (i.e., practically everything we had, even considering a portion in local currency); a camera (mine) worth about 300 euros; a pair of sunglasses; a cell phone; a backpack; and a shirt.

We were fortunate in that we had no complications (a few months earlier a German had died from a similar incident), in addition to the strong sense of bewilderment and confusion that we disposed of in one day and yet also potentially dangerous.

Home travel How to do it without money on a trip to Cuba, real adventure

Next stop Robbed abroad and the Cuban detective

Trips taken, travel stories divided by continent

Countries visited in my travel stories

Anecdotes, divided by type in travel narratives

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Fabio Viroli

Ho sempre avuto tante passioni, ma da sempre più o meno latenti, le principali sono viaggiare e scrivere. Tra le altre cose ho una laurea in psicologia; ho fatto per più di 30 anni l’allenatore di basket; leggo tanti libri; sono stato molto appassionato di sport e di musica rock; e faccio improvvisazione teatrale. IL mio primo romanzo, che non parla di viaggi, si chiama LE TUE GAMBE SONO BELLE COME LE TAGLIATELLE

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