It was always time for dessert

Here are some photos of our recent trip to the beautiful Cayo Santa Maria, an island known for its breathtakingly soft, white sand and translucent teal water. This trip was a spontaneous one. At the last minute, I’d been asked to go to Cuba in an individual’s place and go though a name switch on the plane ticket, because the individual was no longer able to leave with the sudden occurrence of personal matters.

While part of me was excited, another part of me felt guilty for going on a back-to-back trip. Not to mention, burnt from my recent trip to Asia, the last thing I wanted to see was the sun — much less spend all day in it. (At this point, I was ready to hibernate in pure darkness and surrender my soul to the dark lords.) But I was lucky: I was free from the shackles of the responsibilities of daily life and had a lot of time on my hands, so it was good reason for me to live life on the edge a lil bit. And so, just about two weeks of being home from Asia, I found myself in Cuba again — on a second vacation.

A very divine coconut strawberry ice cream cone with undeniably vivacious curves

This resort might’ve been every kid’s dream come true — it had an ice cream parlour. “Be still my heart,” I mumbled to myself. Truth be told, while normal people would’ve looked forward to heading to the beach upon waking up first thing in the morning, I was romanticizing about getting my first ice cream cone of the day. My unruly obsession with the ice cream parlour and my companion’s deadly snoring which prompted me to want to sleep on the balcony, both made for comical jokes. Another memorable moment was walking on the beach together every morning. We found a conch underwater! Finding one involved teamwork, I realized. Your own limbs weren’t enough; you needed extra ones on the side.

I never thought that I’d have a chance to do some travelling at this point in my life. Although like many young’uns I’ve been knocked upside the head by a crippling case of wanderlust, travelling has always been a goal that’s reserved for the far-off future — and for practical reasons. Come to think of it, even my future has a future. How silly it sounds. Psychological time, this mental construct and prison that we invent for ourselves, is stifling, isn’t it?

Yet as we know, life has a funny way of working and is filled with constant surprises. Suddenly and unexpectedly, I found myself in Southeast Asia, and, just recently, spontaneously visiting Cuba for the second time. That’s one of the beauties of life, I think: the unknown, which houses endless possibilities. And this now is as close to the future as we’ll ever get.