Sarah’s Swansong

Where to spend the last week of our trip was a painful question…honestly it was. We had planned to travel through Canada and wanted to finish on a somewhat different and more relaxing note to prepare for our return to the Mother Country/Nanny State.

Having discounted much of the Caribbean on cost I suggested Cuba for the culture, grandeur and politics of Havana combined with a side trip to the quiet mountains and a few days on the beach in Varadero. Peter had been to Cuba before (no surprises not for holiday but for a MPhil dissertation) and according to him he was close to death with food poisoning/cholera, but agreed it was a long time ago and for potential value for money it’d be worth a look.

I’m not sure when we realised it wasn’t such a bright idea:

• Waiting for over an hour for our luggage at Havana airport (good practice for Heathrow)
• Collecting a heap of junk Chinese rental car (no worse than Europcar Tasmania)
• Constant requests for us to buy cigars, embroidery and hats (a bit like China without the fake luxury labels)
• The 14 km off-roading detour thanks to Peter directing us in aforementioned heap to get to our accommodation in the sierra, loosening the undercarriage and getting a slow puncture (reminiscent of driving a Merc up the Katberg mountains in South Africa, probably with less screaming at every jolt from Peter this time)
• The quiet mountain hotel besieged by an aged east German cultural tour group singing O Sole Mio after 11 at night (probably the same in every tour group hotel frequented by Germans that we don’t normally use on our travels)
• Turning up to the Mercure Hotel in Varadero only to find they’d lost our reservation and had since become an all inclusive resort an doubled the price (this is truly unique).

There were of course positives - the historic hotel in Havana had also lost our booking but gave us a fabulous corner room with large windows facing the historic sights and the sea. We were treated as VIPs as we had booked via our Accor Club card, which got us into the amazing rooftop restaurant for the same rubbish breakfast as the plebs on the ground floor. This section of the trip also gave us the opportunity to look more favourably upon our return to the UK, it certainly would be cheaper than extortionate (literally) Cuba.

What I don’t really understand if the Revolution is continuing here why nothing has changed in over 50 years? I suspect there is going to be more revolution in Casa de Team Rejchrt over the next few weeks while we settle down, neither of us have the beards or cult status of Fidel or Che, but I’m starting making up revolutionary slogans now.