A Good Finish to the Trip

We headed back toward our hotel along Obispo Street, which is one of the three most interesting streets in Havana, along with the Malecon and the Paseo del Prado.  Lots of bars, restaurants and shops, it's always vibrant, but never so crowded you can't get through.

I needed some water, so we stopped at an outdoor cafe.  A couple people hit us up for money, but we waved them off.  It's what New York City will be if Bill de Blasio  gets re-elected.  A couple of guys at the next table heard we were from Virginia.  Turns out while they live in LA now, one grew up in Petersburg.  

Even wilder is that he graduated from Elon University, where our youngest, Torie, will graduate this coming spring.  Anyhow, in between the street music, we talked.  This is their third time to Cuba, and they are as drawn to the vibrancy and energy as we are.  They are gutsier, as they are in country for ten days, plan to travel around, but have no specific plans.  They may rent a car (good luck!) or even hitchhike.

Anyhow, it was neat to run into them, and we wished them good travels as we left.

We relaxed for a little while at the hotel, showering off the grime and heat of the day.  Charlie and Lucy joined us for drinks at the hotel bar on the roof -- and we enjoyed the same sweeping views we enjoyed the night before.

We cabbed over to dinner at a restaurant Charlie requested we eat at again.  Just a few blocks from the Hotel Nacional, the Paladar Cafe Laurent is an open air restaurant on the fifth (top) floor of an apartment building.  We had eaten there in 2016, and were happy to go back.  Like Restaurant Vistamar, do not hesitate to go when you are in Havana.

Not surprisingly, Charlie and Lucy Cook make excellent travelling companions -- we really enjoyed their company the entire trip.  They had stayed for the second panel (sorry, I'm in Havana -- I wanted to do more sightseeing, and be grifted!).  Anyhow, we caught each other up on the day's events, and talked into the night.

Carol and I walked back with the Cooks to the Hotel Nacional, where the two of us caught a convertible back to our Hotel Saratoga. 

As the highly entertaining Brian Setzer would say:

Jingle bells, jingle bells
Jingle all the way
Oh, what fun it is to ride
In a '57 Chevrolet

There are few things better than riding along the Malecon in a convertible from the 1950s, and then up the Paseo del Prado.  You literally feel like King of the World, even if you  don't have to die later in the North Atlantic.

We went up to the rooftop bar again, and capped off the trip with a nice Italian red.  I will spare you, dear readers, the monotony of the trip to the airport, the fun with Cuban immigration, and the inconsequential flights back.

One more vignette I forgot to share early before I wrap this puppy up:

We were in our old Chevy on the way to dinner in Cienfuegos when we stopped at one of the only lights in town.  A local fellow walked by with a NY football Giants t-shirt on.  I rolled down my window, shouting "Go Giants!" (they were in the process of beating the snot out of the Redskins 40-16).  

The gentleman looked befuddled, so I pointed at the shirt and helpfully shouted "Go Giants" even louder (added volume always aids language understanding!).  He grasped what the American fool in the car was saying, popped his shirt, and then we fist bumped.  

I don't want to claim I caused a little more world peace and understanding in that moment, but, looking back on it, I actually did.

The moment was, like Cuba is, magic.  Pure vibrant magic.