Our visit to Havana shows to us how much we have missed the smell of the sea air, the tang of salt on your skin and the soothing sounds of the ocean.
Tourism in Cuba was born out of necessity as a result of the collaspe of the Soviet Union in the 1990's and as such the infrastructure is stuck in a time warp of the 1950's and our hotel room reminisces sleep overs at Grannies.
The architecture is dominated by vibrant colours that mix with the dust and decay of a crumbling city. Che Guevara adores walls, momuments, t/shirts and underwear. As we wonder old Havana town Carmen Miranda look a likes and huge cigar chomping gentlemen hustle to be photographed with you for a charge. We discover Ernest Hemingway's hide away and sip motojis from the rooftoop. We people watch and feel the rhythm of the salsa pulsate and along the water front Havanaites celebrate only as they can.
We journey to Vinales, where we are guests at a home stay and explore the picturesque town set highlands. Our spanish remains infantile and bizzare dances of body language, pointing and smiling is our major form of communication. The owners of the home stay become accustomed to our epileptic ritual and just smile and giggle along.
Tobacco farms populate the valley and we watch a generation of families demonstrate the art of cigar making. It is amazing to think that the very poor produce a product that makes its way into the mouth of the very rich. We draw in the aroma of the cigar smoke and watch the sunset over the tobacco houses. Once again the beat of the dance calls and we venture out into the night to mingle with locals and tourists alike on the dance floors.
We hiked through farm land framed by rugged mountains to cave system that hides an underground lake, deviod of bats but inhabited by transparent shrimp who nibble on your dead skin as you enter the water. Our guide, like all Cubans is a natural dancer and offered us our second Salsa lesson, and of course, no lesson can be run successfully without a bottle of rum. The rum transforms Brad from a rambling spastic to a Gene Kelly god. For over an hour we laugh, drink and stumble through our class. Finally, in celebration we devour a whole pig cooked in a traditional Cuban style, play Dominos and watch the sunset over the fields.
Our last stop takes us the seaside resort of Maria La Gorda, (minus Dexter Morgan) and we enjoy the Cuban sun. A big thank you goes out to Natalia (our fabulous guide) Allan, Ester, Meagan, Amy, Zoe, Bjorn, Candice, Adam and Morgan for making the tour so enjoyable.
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