A watch face smashed on January 1, 1959. Hotel ballrooms seem haunted by a ghost of a more decadent era as tables were set and the place-settings hardly seem to have changed since.
I relished taking the taxis that regular Cubans take, and rolled by eyes at being ripped off by the shiny new ones. I enjoyed seeing the sites at the ration markets and the back alleys of Cuba where our guide Julio took us.
Running a successful company and surfing in the Pacific every morning, sure! Seeing friends a few times a week over laughs and pisco sours is de rigueur. It’s this spirit that I will carry with me.
The district of Barranco is an Instagrammer’s dream with countless walls of beautiful murals telling stories from whimsy and history in every shade imaginable.
and just space. A car drove by here and there, but no other bicyclist. I looked at my waning water bottle and the afternoon sun…. Was this a really stupid mission?
So there you have it, what started out as a frantic phone call to my mom saying “I can’t stay here” turned into another awesome trip in one of my favorite cities and a little one-on-one time with a dear friend. As for the buffoons… they turned out all right at the end.
He told me I could hold is knife if I felt threatened… it was pretty cool an intense Swiss Army knife. And I learned a fun tidbit from him, He was stationed at an embassy but the American embassy didn’t want the Swiss guard anymore because they found one smoking pot on the job and another peeing in the bushes, creating a diplomatic problem.