It was a relaxing start to our 26 de Julio, the national memorial day in recognition of Cuban hero Che. We finally got a sleep-in, although we were in bed before 1am so it wasn't a huge necessity. I do wonder if we got a sleep-in to try and kill time so A didn't have to babysit us - just naturally don't trust him anymore.
I was one of the only people down for breakfast, apparently everyone else appreciated the sleep-in. Then we were all on the bus heading to a sugar mill to get a slice of history (and hopefully have some kind of sugar cane-related rum drink). There was a watchtower still standing next to the sugar mill we visited, and for 1 peso we climbed to the top to see some impressive views of the surrounding countryside and some of the other defunct mills nearby.
The next stop was in a famous local pottery maker (potter?) that had a shop in one of the nearby towns (given how late this is being written, I can't remember the exact town), but when we walked in we saw a crowd of excited children crowded around outside. Surely us tourists can't be that interesting... then we realised inside the pottery shop was a Cuban reggaeton star and they were all waiting for him to come outside. Actually, first I saw a very attractive Cuban woman sitting and looking bored on a seat in the shop, and wondered firstly why she was so done up and also what she was doing in the shop (if you're bored, bitch, just leave!). And then to watch her swagger out behind the rapper as he left, quite entertaining really.
Perhaps it was the outskirts of Trinidad that we saw before, but then we travelled into the main bit of Trinadad before going on to our all-inclusive resort Hotel Costasur. We were a bit excited about this all-inclusive prospect, as L had read in a Lonely Planet or something that there were only a couple of big resorts in Trinidad, and the one she saw was plush.
So it was a different resort.
Full of kids and actually lots of what looked like locals, running about doing their thing, one of the first things I set my eyes on was the activity board. Every hour there was a cocktail-making class, dance class, performance, something or rather... so I thought I had my time cut out for me. Our rooms weren't ready so we put our bags behind the desk and went to the bar to have the first of the shittest cocktails we had in Cuba - there was just no love behind it. It's like they just didn't enjoy serving unlimited free cocktails to stingy tourists that didn't tip.
I found an umbrella a little away from the main crowd on the private beach attached to the hotel, and settled down with my book. A little while later, I realised I'd been sitting close to one of the Irish girls the whole time and moved to join her. Time slowly ticked by and before I knew it, I'd missed the salsa lesson I planned to attend. Oh well, there's always tomorrow.
Despite the fact we were staying in an all-inclusive resort, A took us into town to have dinner (which we then had to pay for). True, the view was better with the setting sun, but we all did wonder if it was just because we was friends with the restaurant owner that we went there. When we questioned him, the excuse was something about the food being really bad at the resort - well then why are we staying there??
The most memorable thing about dinner, though, was the cats. They would brush past your leg unexpectedly and then take their place next to your chair, waiting for some tid-bits. One of the Irish girls was quite perturbed by them and in the feedback card, that was her first complaint. I was a bit drunk, given the number of free drinks I'd managed to quickly consume at the resort, so nothing much was bothering me and I was keen to hang back afterwards to see this Casa de la Musica place A had mentioned.
Only the Irish girls, L and I stayed on, the others choosing to go back to the resort. We went to the music place which was outdoors, in an amphitheatre kind of set-up, and we found a place where we could watch the band and some of the couples dancing salsa. Only it was different to Vinales - you really didn't want to go on that dance floor unless you knew what you were doing. A young guy with a hideous mullet sat next to us with his mates... and that's when I noticed Joel. The most intriguingly beautiful Cuban I'd seen yet, black with rastas and an awesome, sleek fashion sense. I eventually got talking to him, in Spanish, and he said we could go to a discotheque because he didn't like reggaeton or know how to salsa. Hold up - what?? Was this guy Cuban or not? Actually no, he said he was actually originally from Jamaica. Obviously not Jamaican enough to know English. Maybe he just wished he was.
Either way, I was not in the mood to party and it would have meant I was by myself, as the others definitely weren't keen. And I think I preferred to have a nice memory of this beautiful, sweet Cuban - every other time the veneer has been slashed once I actually started hanging out with these guys. So we tipped the band that came around with a hat (making particular time to walk past the tourists) and bid him farewell, and walked back down to meet our Cinderella coach to head back to the resort by midnight.
All in all, a rather sedate 26 July if I do say so myself.
I was one of the only people down for breakfast, apparently everyone else appreciated the sleep-in. Then we were all on the bus heading to a sugar mill to get a slice of history (and hopefully have some kind of sugar cane-related rum drink). There was a watchtower still standing next to the sugar mill we visited, and for 1 peso we climbed to the top to see some impressive views of the surrounding countryside and some of the other defunct mills nearby.
The next stop was in a famous local pottery maker (potter?) that had a shop in one of the nearby towns (given how late this is being written, I can't remember the exact town), but when we walked in we saw a crowd of excited children crowded around outside. Surely us tourists can't be that interesting... then we realised inside the pottery shop was a Cuban reggaeton star and they were all waiting for him to come outside. Actually, first I saw a very attractive Cuban woman sitting and looking bored on a seat in the shop, and wondered firstly why she was so done up and also what she was doing in the shop (if you're bored, bitch, just leave!). And then to watch her swagger out behind the rapper as he left, quite entertaining really.
Perhaps it was the outskirts of Trinidad that we saw before, but then we travelled into the main bit of Trinadad before going on to our all-inclusive resort Hotel Costasur. We were a bit excited about this all-inclusive prospect, as L had read in a Lonely Planet or something that there were only a couple of big resorts in Trinidad, and the one she saw was plush.
So it was a different resort.
Full of kids and actually lots of what looked like locals, running about doing their thing, one of the first things I set my eyes on was the activity board. Every hour there was a cocktail-making class, dance class, performance, something or rather... so I thought I had my time cut out for me. Our rooms weren't ready so we put our bags behind the desk and went to the bar to have the first of the shittest cocktails we had in Cuba - there was just no love behind it. It's like they just didn't enjoy serving unlimited free cocktails to stingy tourists that didn't tip.
I found an umbrella a little away from the main crowd on the private beach attached to the hotel, and settled down with my book. A little while later, I realised I'd been sitting close to one of the Irish girls the whole time and moved to join her. Time slowly ticked by and before I knew it, I'd missed the salsa lesson I planned to attend. Oh well, there's always tomorrow.
Despite the fact we were staying in an all-inclusive resort, A took us into town to have dinner (which we then had to pay for). True, the view was better with the setting sun, but we all did wonder if it was just because we was friends with the restaurant owner that we went there. When we questioned him, the excuse was something about the food being really bad at the resort - well then why are we staying there??
The most memorable thing about dinner, though, was the cats. They would brush past your leg unexpectedly and then take their place next to your chair, waiting for some tid-bits. One of the Irish girls was quite perturbed by them and in the feedback card, that was her first complaint. I was a bit drunk, given the number of free drinks I'd managed to quickly consume at the resort, so nothing much was bothering me and I was keen to hang back afterwards to see this Casa de la Musica place A had mentioned.
Only the Irish girls, L and I stayed on, the others choosing to go back to the resort. We went to the music place which was outdoors, in an amphitheatre kind of set-up, and we found a place where we could watch the band and some of the couples dancing salsa. Only it was different to Vinales - you really didn't want to go on that dance floor unless you knew what you were doing. A young guy with a hideous mullet sat next to us with his mates... and that's when I noticed Joel. The most intriguingly beautiful Cuban I'd seen yet, black with rastas and an awesome, sleek fashion sense. I eventually got talking to him, in Spanish, and he said we could go to a discotheque because he didn't like reggaeton or know how to salsa. Hold up - what?? Was this guy Cuban or not? Actually no, he said he was actually originally from Jamaica. Obviously not Jamaican enough to know English. Maybe he just wished he was.
Either way, I was not in the mood to party and it would have meant I was by myself, as the others definitely weren't keen. And I think I preferred to have a nice memory of this beautiful, sweet Cuban - every other time the veneer has been slashed once I actually started hanging out with these guys. So we tipped the band that came around with a hat (making particular time to walk past the tourists) and bid him farewell, and walked back down to meet our Cinderella coach to head back to the resort by midnight.
All in all, a rather sedate 26 July if I do say so myself.
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