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Havana, having a bite at Bodeguita.

We’ve been travelling for eight months, and along the way, again and again, we’ve run into the same characters: four renowned travelers who achieved fame through hard work. They also travelled around the world, though in spite of taking the same route, we were never able to get close to them because, among other things, they’re dead. Two sailors, a pirate and a scientist: Captain Cook, who discovered Oceania and hundreds of islands in the Pacific; Captain Cousteau and the crew of the Calypso, diving pioneers; the privateer Sir Francis Drake, half pirate, half gentleman; and Darwin, who followed evolution from one islet to the other using the five continents as his laboratory.
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In Cuba single foreigners are quite happy. Both men and women. Because the idea that sexual tourism is exclusively for men is as untrue as Fidel’s jogging suit. Hotel discos are filled with sensual Cuban women and all that, but the streets and bars, the Casa de la Musica and the Casa de la Trova, are all packed with male hookers. Very handsome men as agile and quick with their feet as their hips. Professional “jockeys”. And the women are over the moon, Marujita Diaz style . The guys dance with them, laugh at their jokes, and in addition they have a chance to confirm the famous myth about black men. In exchange the women only have to pay for a few drinks, some food and and a gift like clothing or shampoo. The only downside is that when they travel home they can’t to tell anyone because of what people might say. Everybody knows that “the best thing about making love to Ava Gardner is being able to talk about it”. But nobody can deprive them of that memory, they think, because in the privacy of the island they do as they please without the last sign of embarrassment.
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Havana, “indomitable village” of Communism.

One has two options to get from Cancun to Havana. Either you pay a little bit more and fly with Mexicana or you travel with Cubana de Aviación. If you’re not scared of flying, we recommend the second. The flight is less than one hour, but really amazing. From outside everything looks normal. Shiny fuselage, three motors, two wings and a fashionably dressed crew. But when you enter the plane you notice already that in Cuba, in general, and in Cubana particularly, things are not what they seem. First, duck your head. The Russian aeronautic engineers, perhaps thinking of that dog they sent to space, designed the hatch for Laika’s height. Everyone had to duck their heads several inches if they didn’t want to take a souvenir home in the form of a bump on their heads.
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