Puerto Vallarta, Mexico - After spending eight weeks in Puerto Vallarta as an intern with BanderasNews.com through a work experience program, budding journalist Sean Harris traveled to Cuba. Though he is now back home in Bristol, England, he continues to share some of his experiences with our readers.

Exploring and Experiencing Old Havana

Every time that I return to my country I find I have a newfound appreciation for it. It was like this very strong coming home from Cuba, on the bus from London to Bristol, with the green countryside rolling by and the yellow rapeseed in bloom. This is not to say that Cuba is not a fine place, only that is harsh and fine, like good alcohol.

You can buy a one litre bottle of Havana Club rum for 5.20 CUC - equivalent to the same amount in USD. The hostel in Havana that I stayed in, which ran Spanish classes, dance classes and volunteering, was full of young Europeans drinking Havana Club.

My best friend in the hostel was a German boy called Marko who had been travelling non-stop for ten months. He had started in South Africa teaching in a primary school, and then went to Thailand, Japan, Indonesia, Australia, USA, Mexico and Cuba.

"It's hard," Marko said, "but you just get on with it and have fun."

After Cuba, Marko is going to Costa Rica and Brazil and then back home. He could drink more rum than anybody in the hostel and is still there in Havana now. He was also excellent at soccer and often we played together with Cuban children in the streets. In Salsa class, he transferred his foot skills and although he liked to get drunk beforehand he did very well. I wasn't particularly serious about becoming a good dancer and with that pretension out of the way and some rum you can have fun no matter how awkward you are. The female dance teachers are very easy going and beautiful.

The Cuban men are charming and relentless. If you are a girl and you are up and dancing in a night club then they will dance with you no matter what you say. Though the girls I knew said that they liked to dance with them because they are great dancers and, most importantly, gentlemen - so you can dance with them and then go your separate ways.

When you go your separate way you can feel safe walking the streets in Havana - or least in Old Havana, which is the tourist area of the city and the most picturesque and historic. Some of the areas, even in Old Havana, may seem unfriendly or daunting because of the - and this is where the harshness comes in - unlighted alleys, crumbling facades and open garbage heaps; but in my experience you really can and should feel safe.

On two occasions when I was lost and alone I was taken to the door of the hostel by strangers who were walking away before I could even give them some money. Again, from the girls I knew, sticking in pairs, as you would in your own country, they went out to many different places until the sun came up. Seems to me that you have more of a chance of an old building tumbling down on you (which does actually happen) than being bothered by any prowling Cuban.

If you do get yourself into any trouble though, perhaps a stray dog will come to your rescue - as happened with one of our friends. He was another German, the youngest and blondest, and could in no way handle his drink; always he would drink too much and end up doing something stupid. This incident involves him drinking a large amount of vodka (he was sick of rum, he said) and going for a night walk because he needed a change of scene.

After a couple of hours of his being out Marko and I decided to look for him, and we went all around Old Havana scouring the gutters. Then, on our way back, really quite close to the hostel, we saw some blonde fuzz down an alleyway: our friend, supine and asleep in a dusty shop lee. There was something else though, like an extra grey bulk, and as we got closer, cautiously now, we identified the greyness as a big mongrel dog, awake and vigilant and tucked into the side of our friend.

The first thing we did was laugh a lot... and for a long time. Then Marko went over to try and wake him. But as he did the dog leaped up in a snarling, protective stance. It wouldn't let us get anywhere near our friend.

"What are we going to do now?" Marko asked. "I don't want to get bitten - I've never even had a rabies shot."

"We'll go back," I said, "and tell Leandro," who was the coordinator of the hostel. "Let's get some burgers first though."

We stopped by a fast food place that is actually inside the lobby of a nightclub. The burgers are 1 USD, made with artisan precision, and about half a pound in weight.

When we got back to the hostel our friend was already there sitting in the common room smoking a cigarette. He looked very loose and relaxed, going back and forth gently on a rocking chair.

"Are you all right?" Marko asked him.
"Yes," he said.
"What was that dog doing with you?"
"What dog?"

"We found you asleep in an alley with a dog," I said. "We tried to bring you home, but the dog was protecting you from us."

"There was this dog, I think, at the end of the alley when I woke up, but - no, I was not sleeping with it. Are you crazy?"

That happened on my last night in Havana. Now I am back in England appreciating things and certain comforts, like the internet. Currently we are having fresh and warm sunny days with good breeze and no rain. The only problem is that a bottle of Havana Club here costs 26 dollars - and that's just for a 70cl bottle.