Last day of my Cuba tour and I must say, I am ready to go home. Back to my new work responsibilities and back to the new challenges my life now had - boy, what a change! But all that aside, I was also happy to be back in Havana. It was a comforting city, and since it was where I started my Cuban experience, was a fitting place to end it as well.
It was a long drive back to the city from Trinidad, truncated by a drive-by tour of Cienfuegos where we learnt some quick history via the on-board mic (so interesting I can't remember a scrap of it now). We pulled over at one point to see the world's smallest bird, a hummingbird, and snap some pics. I really need to invest in a bigger lense, that thing was quite tiny! Looked almost the same as the dragonfly it was sharing a electricity cable with.
We quickly stopped at the place we usually eat, but since the timing was out we were due to eat at another place further along. I was really starting to feel the pinch in my wallet, so was getting increasingly frustrated at how EVERYBODY wanted a piece of you - tip-wise, I mean. I couldn't even go to the bloody toilet without giving her something! (I went anyway). There was a small farm with the Cuban version of a crocodile, but I wasn't about to pay to see that.
The place we actually stopped for lunch also had a bunch of animals, but more of a farm, with turkeys, chickens, lots of guinea pigs and of course another bull - to ride. In fact, the guinea pig became the key ingredient in a game to raise money for the farm when he put it in a box and spun it around, then let it go to a certain box with a prize, or not. Of course no prize but it was quite entertaining. Lunch was uneventful, actually the most memorable thing was that they actually ASKED if we wanted music while we ate and we said no. Over it.
We went to Havana for one last time, one last night, and it was straight into a final walking tour. A little bit out of whack, being the last night of the tour and all, but I guess it's better than nothing. It was back to the same hotel, this time firmly remembering to keep my bikini in my bag, and we were greeted with some bad news. The dinner that had been promised to us at the pub where members of the Buenavista Social Club play each night was not going to happen. Apparently, the tour company forgot to book it. What a fucking surprise. So all this time I was getting excited that not only I'd get to see Buenavista Social Club but also that I didn't have to pay - what a way to end my time in Cuba! Now... pissed off was an understatement. The pub was sold out, there was no other way in.
Some down-time at the hotel found me watching the only English program I could find, Dexter (not entirely a bad choice), so I watched that for a bit before getting dressed in my pretty Mexican dress for the finale evening. We were taken to an alternative restaurant, very nice with a piano jazz band, but not Buenavista Social Club. We had a nice dinner and I even had a dance with one of the waiters, the owner of a very beautiful jawline, but it wasn't Buenavista Social Club. We passed over our tip envelopes to the driver and guide, mine supplemented by P but still not that bulky (do you blame us?) and funnily enough, they disappeared soon after. We never saw them again.
Being the last night, we wanted to go out some more so we grabbed another drink at Plaza Vieja, the same beer house I went to the first night I was in Havana pre-tour. That was boring so we moved on to Cafe Paris, which sounded like it was still happening. We sat down and within one song they were passing a tip jar past us - arrgghhh, for fuck's sake!! With our disinterest, the band soon stopped playing. Awesome.
I could tell P was getting a bit drunk and rowdy again, and I wasn't really feeling it. Still stinging from the lack of BVSC, I just felt like going home. And to be perfectly boringly honest, I was starting to look forward to going home and getting stuck into my new management position. I left the others to do their thing and headed back to the hotel. Ahh, the soft, sweet folds of 5-star luxury... better soak it up while it lasts.
It was a long drive back to the city from Trinidad, truncated by a drive-by tour of Cienfuegos where we learnt some quick history via the on-board mic (so interesting I can't remember a scrap of it now). We pulled over at one point to see the world's smallest bird, a hummingbird, and snap some pics. I really need to invest in a bigger lense, that thing was quite tiny! Looked almost the same as the dragonfly it was sharing a electricity cable with.
We quickly stopped at the place we usually eat, but since the timing was out we were due to eat at another place further along. I was really starting to feel the pinch in my wallet, so was getting increasingly frustrated at how EVERYBODY wanted a piece of you - tip-wise, I mean. I couldn't even go to the bloody toilet without giving her something! (I went anyway). There was a small farm with the Cuban version of a crocodile, but I wasn't about to pay to see that.
The place we actually stopped for lunch also had a bunch of animals, but more of a farm, with turkeys, chickens, lots of guinea pigs and of course another bull - to ride. In fact, the guinea pig became the key ingredient in a game to raise money for the farm when he put it in a box and spun it around, then let it go to a certain box with a prize, or not. Of course no prize but it was quite entertaining. Lunch was uneventful, actually the most memorable thing was that they actually ASKED if we wanted music while we ate and we said no. Over it.
We went to Havana for one last time, one last night, and it was straight into a final walking tour. A little bit out of whack, being the last night of the tour and all, but I guess it's better than nothing. It was back to the same hotel, this time firmly remembering to keep my bikini in my bag, and we were greeted with some bad news. The dinner that had been promised to us at the pub where members of the Buenavista Social Club play each night was not going to happen. Apparently, the tour company forgot to book it. What a fucking surprise. So all this time I was getting excited that not only I'd get to see Buenavista Social Club but also that I didn't have to pay - what a way to end my time in Cuba! Now... pissed off was an understatement. The pub was sold out, there was no other way in.
Some down-time at the hotel found me watching the only English program I could find, Dexter (not entirely a bad choice), so I watched that for a bit before getting dressed in my pretty Mexican dress for the finale evening. We were taken to an alternative restaurant, very nice with a piano jazz band, but not Buenavista Social Club. We had a nice dinner and I even had a dance with one of the waiters, the owner of a very beautiful jawline, but it wasn't Buenavista Social Club. We passed over our tip envelopes to the driver and guide, mine supplemented by P but still not that bulky (do you blame us?) and funnily enough, they disappeared soon after. We never saw them again.
Being the last night, we wanted to go out some more so we grabbed another drink at Plaza Vieja, the same beer house I went to the first night I was in Havana pre-tour. That was boring so we moved on to Cafe Paris, which sounded like it was still happening. We sat down and within one song they were passing a tip jar past us - arrgghhh, for fuck's sake!! With our disinterest, the band soon stopped playing. Awesome.
I could tell P was getting a bit drunk and rowdy again, and I wasn't really feeling it. Still stinging from the lack of BVSC, I just felt like going home. And to be perfectly boringly honest, I was starting to look forward to going home and getting stuck into my new management position. I left the others to do their thing and headed back to the hotel. Ahh, the soft, sweet folds of 5-star luxury... better soak it up while it lasts.
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