Trinidad, Cuba (Day 6)

After breakfast, we set out in search of the bus station… and after walking around in circles in the blinding heat for a loooong while, we finally found it… buuuuuut there are no buses to Vinales from here. At least we walked breakkie off and saw a bunch of pretty casas en route. (Incidentally, breakfast was pretty much a carbon copy of the Havana hostel… I don’t think they have much choice when it comes to ingredients… rations, ‘n all).

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We had a wander around Plaza Mayor and some of the surrounding streets. There are an array of cute market stalls here; I brought a Cuba cap.


(Photo by VA – filtered to the max, of course!)

Then we caught a bubble-car (Coco taxi) to Playa Ancon – a truly stunning beach about 15 / 20 minutes away. We fried to a crisp and dipped our toes into the sea – like ‘warm milk’, as Victor’s mama would say.

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We had dinner at our casa familia – chicken, rice, beans, sweet potato, normal potato. In short; a LOT of food.

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Then we headed out into the small and modest town. We paid 1cuc to go into Casa de la Trova but we couldn’t grab a seat because the place was packed with pensioners; all of whom got there way earlier than 9pm to pinch a table. The live Cuban music and dancing were fun to watch but it was too hot and packed to stand there gawping at the oldies on the dance floor… so after a tug-of-war with some Germans, and a couple of cocktails to boot, we danced our way out of there.

988918_649570411368_3064776861679591634_n(Photo by VB)

We went to a nearby bar instead and watched a live band play while we drank our rank electronic blue cocktails. A horse was parked outside; it was strange seeing his little face through the window.


Since we were absolutely shattered from soaking up the sun all day (poor us!), we had a pretty early night. (And there’s me having a dig at the pensioners at Casa de la Trova!!).


Havana, Cuba (Day 5)

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(Photos by VB)

Our attempt to go to the rum museum failed. Well, we got there – so that bit went to plan. But it was closed. So we have to drown our sorrows in the rum museum’s rum bar: Havana especials & daiquiris make for the best breakfast. We drank and danced and drank and sweated and drank and danced and sweated and drank and drank and drank and…

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(Photos by VB)


(Photo by VB)

We Bubble-Car-ed it back and had lunch at one of the state-run restaurants – just to mix it up a bit and also because we were too drunk to realize the difference. The menu lied. It said it did more than just fish, rice and beans. It didn’t. That’s one thing to bear in mind. Don’t trust menus. If you pick five things you’d like to eat, there’s a chance you’ll get one of them… if luck’s on your side.

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Oh and there are still no tampons in sight. There are incontinence pads though.

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Our trip to Trinidad was… bracing. Our driving condensed a six hour drive into three. Donkeys, people and three Brits nearly perished as a result. But, thankfully, we arrived in one piece. The taxi was 30CUC each but it was like sitting in a tin can. No air con + thirty degree sun = m-e-l-t-i-n-g.

Listening to Santana, I found myself nodding my head at these lyrics; ‘It’s a hot one; like seven inches from the midday sun’.

We were close to comatosed when we arrived in Trinidad but managed to stay conscious for dinner at Giros. The waiter slobbered over Victoria and she was forced to wipe the sweat off his face with a napkin. Then they danced and he sweated a bit more. Dinner and a show!