The last day of the holidays is always dominated of hectic and stress. In my case i was mostly my overweight - of the luggage, I mean. Somehow I had the feeling that I had at least 10 kilo too much weight. Who could possibly travel to Latin-America with only 20 kilo? Hello Air France!!!
Anyway, I decided to go to the post office. After waiting patiently for 35 minutes, it was my turn. I weighed my stuff - 5.7 kilos. And then... a female voice says: "But we can only send packages up to 2 kilos! You have to go to the Correos Central... blablabla". The lady gave me the address and the bus number: 152. "Just take it to the last stop - about 20 minutes", she said. Nice help, right? Actually, it wasn't! After 20 minutes I asked the bus driver, which then points at another bus going the direction I just came from. So I got off, and took a taxi (because I thought it was faster) since I only had 2 hours left before I had to return the apartment keys. Of course, the taxi got stuck in a major traffic. Somehow the world was against me... 25 minutes later I got to the post office (guess, I could have walked faster).
There, a big lady welcomed med with a cold look: "Si?" I told her my wish to send a parcel. And then surprise she goes: "Your passport please!". Well, how should I know you need a passport for sending a parcel? So I pulled up my shoulders and went"... no, I don't have my credit card here, either...". A bit curious I asked why in the world I had to show some ID and in return I got: "You have to prove you existence". Well, I didn't exist, and I didn't stand in front of the fat lady either... so I went home - pretty pissed off. "Even worse of a paper mill than Cuba...", I thought.
To reduce weight, smart as I am, I had given away my good bottle of Havana Club Special Reserva to Sebastian already. The other bottle will make a group of travelers happy, who, for an evening, will call themselves friends of Diana. So with overweight, and no rum I had to check-in at the airport. After security a duty-free shop waited for me. Here, I thought, my rum-problem will be solved. I bought a rather bad Bacardi-1-liter-companion for my 25 Cohibas Robustos and made sure, the lady at the cashier would seal the plastic bag - with staples, which I found a bit suspicious... 13 hours later - arriving in Paris, I made it through customs (unlike some others) but the European security check proved to be going less smooth... My rum was detected and with a sweet french, but determined smile the security lady says: "Sorry, no bottles from outside Europe allowed". My but's, if's and my childish-sorry-smile did not work. Again I lost my bottle of rum. But resistant as I can be - this wouldn't not put me off my plan. The next duty-free shop waited just around the corner, and a new bottle of Havana Club Añejo Espesial got bagged and sealed. By now, I couldn't call the rum for a bargain anymore, but this one made it home and it's still a nice bottle, which will bring back the good and drown the unpleasant memories from Cuba!