Casa Felina Havana

... a casa which had a nice clean room, strong shower and god offer for breakfast as well.

This town was really different to most other places in Cuba as it felt how we thought Miami would be laid out, there was a sea front called the Malecon and the streets were really spread out with houses that were far apart rather than stuck together that had their own front and back gardens. A lot more pastel shades here and neo-classical buildings in the town centre. We visited Parque ...

... rooms on the periphery. I breathe a sigh of relief. As much as I prefer to avoid touts, I prefer to avoid expensive hotel rooms even more. I assume the situation may be similar elsewhere. When we finally pull into Trinidad an hour and a half later, I gulp audibly. Uh-oh, I've been here before, not here exactly, but many other places like it, most recently San Pedro de Atacama in Chile. The rot sets in first where the fruit is ripest. It's too ...

... old Havana at Casa Mercedes. Mercedes, a lovely little old lady, showed us into her home and into our room. Finally we could breathe a sign of relief... The South African criminals had survived another round of onslaught.

Being in Havana is a bit like having experienced time travel. All the buildings are very old and run down, though despite that, there does seem like there's a fair sense of community. Everyone sits at their doors chatting to all the people ...

The next day, Monday,before we left for our day's activities, several of us walked to a nearby Cadeca (Casa de Cambio or money changing outlet) to get some currency. Most people changed only to convertible pesos, but I changed some also into Moneda Nacional, or national money, the currency that Cubans get paid in. I have seen several blogs saying that foreigners cannot get that currency or that they have to use money changers on the street ...

... with Vaniel, Marifé, and Berta (Marifé's mom). Then it was time to move through airport security. I gave my goodbye hugs and was through security and boarder control in a flash with zero harrassment. Soon I was about to get on the scariest plane ride of my life so far. We had a very uneventful flight until we started to make our decent to Cancun. During the decent we had one of the engines stop which caused the plane to pull ...

... lovely nice person, who would very much like to pass through the security checkpoint unscathed and on towards your final destination...please? All completed, everyone was through with time to spare, all hand luggage intact and nothing confiscated! hooray!!! I then realised that I had forgotten my PJ's!! well, it was either buy a pair of london tube map boxers to wear with my singlet, or sleep in the nuddie - thought i had better get the boxers...so i am now the proud owner of a ...

... in the yard, and insert into one end of the roller press. Large steel rollers positioned one above the other would grab the stalk and draw it in, squeezing the liquid out. The liquid would then dribble down a dirty gutter and into a dirty bucket that held a huge chunk of ice. Cold juice would then be transferred from the dirty bucket into a dirty pitcher. The vendor would then clean previously used glasses by swishing them in a bucket of water and ...

... that I was probably safer in Cuba that I would ever be at home (no jokes, thank you very much!), I just couldn´t relax. So, in summary, the freedom in the arts has produced and is still producing wonderful results, the men are tiresome, the architecture is amazing, but crumbling to varying extents, it is a country that is suffering very much from the embargo, and I think that the necessary dependence on the tourist trade has completely undermined the revolution.

I woke up late, but the sun was brightly shining. After a wake up shower I headed down to visit the old city. As the previous day was rainy, I decided I should see as much outdoors as possible, and keep the museums for rainy days. So I headed east, towards Havana Vieja. Past the parque central, the museum of fine arts. The cafe Floridita, advertising its daikiris (so I guess Hemingway was a guest there). In Obispo Street, a man calls me out proposing newspapers in English, French ...

... plates for Cubans: blue, everyone can afford a room in the car or truck or bus or coach; yellow, this belongs to the driver, but is a property of the State; dark red, reserved for the rented cars, mainly tourists (which means foreigners, Cuban people don't earn enough money to rent a car...). The trip to the hotel, old Havana, is quite curious: we're driving on highways but no cars on them... only bicycles! The countryside is very green and a ...