After a leisurely breakfast, I took a rest, delaying, trying to dodge the worst of the sun.
But there were things to do and see, so out I went, sunscreen slathered on. Just as I was leaving La Caridad, I ran into Anne and Jim in the downstairs lounge. They were heading back to New Zealand, waiting for a taxi to the airport. We chatted for about an hour before saying our goodbyes, and then it was time to get on with the plan.
Morning small talk and currency rounds
Another hot, sunny day in Old Havana, though the narrow streets at least meant half the walk was in shade. First mission: find a cambio. I needed cash for tomorrow’s bus to Viñales. Near San Francisco Square I found both the cambio and a tour operator, but not before ducking into the Hotel Los Frailes for a limonada – Franciscan theme, Spanish Colonial, the full monk vibe.
Then on to the Almacenes San José artisans’ market, changed more money, and somehow ended up with four T-shirts I’ve no idea how I’ll squeeze into my bag. On the way, I fielded a few offers of transport, cigars and, inevitably, women. Now that I’m no longer tucked away in a group tour, I seem to have become fair game for every hustler, tout, and “friendly local” with a business proposition.
Back to the casa for a shower and rest at 3:30.
Evening preparation and tourist traps
Prepped for the evening with a clean shirt and a taxi to Hotel Nacional, which was crawling with dopey tourists with more money than brains, their idea of Cuban ‘immersion’ apparently beginning and ending at the hotel bar.
Sat on the outside terrace, took in the view, and had another limonada followed by a black tea — my third of the trip — slowly breaking a long drought of no tea and no coffee.
Toward the Malecón I passed Cine La Rampa, which looks like it’s been stuck in a time capsule since the 1950s. Another guy, about my age, stopped me for the usual script: Where are you from? What do you like about Cuba? Want to go to a music show, buy a cigar, maybe meet a pretty lady? Second proposition of the day.
Malecón misadventures and Wi-Fi woes
Walked along the Malecón, chatted with a fisherman, and then picked up yet another “helper” giving directions and free salsa tips. Then a few drops of rain fell and — just like that — he was gone.
The goal for the night was to find La Guarida. Easy enough to locate, harder to get into – fully booked. I’ll try again tomorrow after Viñales. Plan B: back to the little pizza place where I shared a table with Anne and Jim a few days ago.
After dinner, I wandered over to Calle Obispo for the internet. Had a chat with the waitress about Cuban connectivity while waiting ages for the connection to come to life — and when it finally did, it was useless. Not a shock with fifty people all trying to squeeze through the same dribble of bandwidth.
Gave up and walked back to La Caridad, propositioned twice more along the way for salsa, cigars, and ladies. By now it was just part of the soundtrack of travelling solo.
Home by 10:30. Quick shower. Bed. Alarm set for 6:15. Bus in the morning.