I actually came to love Los Angeles during my last visit (right before COVID hit)—it is a very distinct place. And as Venice beach unfolded before me like some sort of surreal virtual reality, I realized that this might be the most “LA” place I’d yet seen. It is the stereotype of what this place is. It was Saturday night and everybody was out having fun. I hurriedly crossed the boardwalk and made a B-line for the beach so I could catch the sunset. It did not disappoint. I’ll postpone additional narrative in favor of just showing you the pictures I took.
Landing in Havana was, in some ways, surreal for me. This city had been cloaked political taboo for so long that it occupied a mostly theoretical space in my mind. Seeing rural Cuba fly by as we made our landing in Jose Martí Airport removed this cloak quickly and unceremoniously. Despite all the build-up this trip had had, all I could think about was how surreal it was to finally be in this country.
“Cuba. Here it is. It’s real. And I’m in it.”
We sailed further into the islands to a place called ‘Manta Point.’ This place was famous amongst divers for, you guessed it, manta rays. As far as I could tell, Manta Point wasn’t really an actual ‘point’, rather just a large area of water in the middle of the Komodo Islands. Our boat slowed down as we approached Manta ‘area.’ The crew leaned off the deck, scouring the clear, blue water. Then there was a shout. Off in the distance what looked like a large fin broke the surface. As we continued I could see big dark patches moving around beneath the boat and obstructing the purity of the water's light blue coloring. These were manta rays. I was so jazzed that I jumped in with no sunscreen, which was a terrible decision, but I was busy swimming through this...
