Wednesday, February 10, 2016

Post modernism and the future of quail farms in South America. Part 3. The move towards freedom.

I cant believe its been over a week since we returned from Cuba. It now feels so long ago that it must be time for another holiday. But alas the normality of everyday life must be obeyed and we continue our trudge through time towards the endless void of the dark deep pit which consumes us all at the moment or our demise.

Haahaa fuck all that lets talk shit, drink beer and eat pizza!¬!

Anyway the last two days in Cuba were great- More time spent on the beach and by the pool - Buffy topping up her tan and me topping up my burn. We noticed some 'Balinese Beds' by the pool and as nobody seemed bothered about lounging in a perfectly comfortable bed in the sunshine instead of of a standard poolside lounger we decided to try one out. It was lovely - a nice comfortable mattress and curtains that kept out the slight breeze meant we were comfortable, warm and happy. It lasted a good hour until one of the more jobsworth members of the Hotel staff wandered by and explained that it costs $20 a day to hire one of these beds and we should pay up or move. $20 a day - Bloody rip off merchants. So we s---l---o----w---l---y packed up our stuff and moved about 4 feet to where the rest of the plebs gathered around the cool blue waters of the hotel pool!

Before we moved.
As it was our last afternoon we did sit in the pool, on the pool bar and have a mojito - Weirdly I realised I had never sat at a swimming pool bar drinking before and the only time I have drunk in any pool was when in Iceland on the way to UK three years ago - Now that pool was slightly awesome!!

Now that was an awesome pool!!


Our final two nights were spent eating delicious food in lovely restaurants. Firstly we had the french restaurant and on the second night was the Latin restaurant. I know it seems to be a thing on the Internet that people post pictures of themselves with food as if no one else actually eats and its some kind of special occasion, but I'm positive that nearly everyone reading this has probably stuffed some kind of warmed up vegetable or half cremated dead animal into their pie holes at some time in the last 6 - 12 hours and wouldn't be at all surprised that, in these restaurants, we did the same.

As I type this a few days later it is also obvious that I am still alive and at least partly sensible which suggests that I suffered no ill effect from eating these things that were cooked and presented in a slightly different way that I am used to just because the people in the restaurant took their ideas from a place where cooking food in this manner is in fact normal to the people that live there.

I ate the food, then ate some more as well as drinking fermented grape juice. It all went down my throat and settled in my belly. It was nice. I think Buffy liked it too. There are no photos of the food.
But there are these photos........

The cool and strange lighting in the latin restaurant.

A good way to store books - If you don't like reading.

So on the last afternoon we were down at the pool again. Being a posh hotel they lobbed our bags in a cupboard and we were able to use all the facilities up until the moment we left. So the pool, the bar and the buffet were used to their fullest - Scoffing as much food as we could into our faces before the long journey home. We were also given the use of a 'complimentary changing room' where we could shower and get changed after using the pool. Although the correct term for this room should have been - Derelict disabled hotel room. As apart from the bed and a chair it was essentially empty and in shit state (We tidied up before we left it.)

One of the most important things to do this evening was to try and get onto the Internet and hopefully Susan would have sent through a photo of my newly arrive pr card. Lordy, lordy if the Internet didn't go swimmingly and there it was - after 2 years of paperwork and then 8 months of waiting - My mug shot on a bit of cheap plastic  -
Worth the wait? ID no covered so that you bugars cant mess with my PR status!
So the PR card was here and then so was the bus. We were the first to board as normal and on the way to the airport we formed a plan. Remember on the way we had had to sit in the crap seats at the back of the plane and we didn't want that again - So as we arrived at the airport Buffy jumped off and found the queue for the check in and I waited and grabbed our bags from the bus. It worked a treat as when I joined Buffy at least 2 other buses had queued behind her and we only had a short wait before checking in and getting two seats together in the middle of the plane!!

Then it was time to queue for immigration again - I noticed that there we were in 1 queue for 1 door and to our left there was one queue for two doors - So I moved across and joined the faster moving queue - overtaking a few people who didn't look too pleased when Buffy joined me at the front and headed through the security cordon. After that it was a quick wait and onto the plane to head home.

On arrival in Winnipeg I showed my passport and PR card photo on my phone and was ushered through immigration with the words 'PR no card' written on my immigration slip.

After finally getting our bags back we were ushered onto my favourite red chairs to go through the process of confirming my status as  Permanent Resident. I expected quite a long wait and than a whole lot of messing about, but was pleasantly surprised when after showing my photo to a security agent she said 'Thats good enough, welcome Home'. It was 5.30am and we were tired, so a quick taxi home and then it was time for bed. End of holiday.

It was quite nice in Winnipeg while we were away and my Ice tree seems to be beginning to shrink!! The lights inside have even started to poke through the ice!

Add caption

Artsy bullshit shot!

Like a butterfly emerging 

The lolly stick holding the lights in is now free to escape!

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