I arrived in Cuba yesterday after a long, tedious flight from Madrid. My bike almost didn’t make it on board with me, thanks to an officious and obstructive woman at Iberia’s check in, determined that it shouldn’t go on. The baggage man was fine with it though, and some friendly, smiley, but unyielding pressure on my part enabled it all. Hmm. I was never this effective a negotiator when I had a proper job, but where bikes are concerned, I can evidently make things happen…
Today was my induction day in Havana, waiting for my bus out east tomorrow. The ticket was secured by slipping $5 to a friend of my guesthouse who queued and bought it for me. A good deal for both of us, because she got a day’s wages, and I had a day free to do touristy things – such as drink astoundingly expensive craft beer (in local terms, anyway: $3.50) in the well-scrubbed Plaza Vieja (pic), to the mellifluous sound of son bands.
I couldn’t resist the temptation to have a lobster dinner in the tourist area of Obispo (pic). It was under $10, and tasted nothing like those insipid things you get in British supermarkets. This one tasted of proper lobster. And ammonia.
Bus to Santiago, and ultimately Baracoa, tomorrow…