Cuban Blog Dat #6 Water, Water Everywhere

 After breakfast, I went to the center to find out about the tour the gringos were taking. I secured it. I found out they have bus that leaves every day for Playa Managua at 10 am and returns at 4 pm. I’d missed it by 15 minutes. I was upset to have missed it, but I ended up taking a taxi for $15 CUC. The ride was about 40 minutes in the back of a jeep and the driver waited the whole time we were there to take us back.

I woke early and went up to the terrace to write.

Playa Managua was not what I was expecting. It wasn’t exactly the pristine beaches I’d seen pictures of in The Lonely Planet, but it was the first beach I’d been to and the water was reasonably clean and the beach itself wasn’t very crowded. The water was colder of than I expected, hoping for the bath water of the Caribbean, but we were on the Atlantic side. I immediately ran into the ocean as soon as I arrived.

I set up base and lay in the sun. I read. Very few vendors bothered me. A German came from the left with two giant conch shells which prompted me to go walking. I found a few myself, along with some very cool rocks to bring home.  The waiter from one of only two restaurants came to offer me drinks. I wanted a Cuba Libre and water, but he said, ‘only natural’ so I settled for a mojito and a pina colada. I’d thought water was quite natural, but not, I guess when it only comes in bottles.  I wished I’d taken the water from the stocked fridge in the casa.

The drinks were very strong. The waiter was awesome and at one point, while I was in the water, came to my spot on the beach, lifted my empty drink, and motioned toward it to ask if I wanted another. Excellent service.

I met two Rasta brothers that live in Baracoa, Robert and Bobby (I think they gave themselves English names and apparently didn’t know they were derivatives of each other.) They had tattoos which they proudly showed me. There was one of the island of Cuba with the words, ‘we need freedom’ written in English below it. Another said ‘don’t forget to smile.’

I talked with them for awhile. When they discovered I spoke Spanish, they asked me to translate a phrase for them into English because they were getting another tattoo that day. I translated the phrase, ‘do not let the struggles of this moment break the tenderness of your heart.’ I was thrilled to think that my words, in a small way, would be upon their bodies.

I left the beach around 4:30and had dinner at the casa. I stayed in for the night and read. I’m reading The Sun Also Rises, by Hemmingway and really enjoying it. Can’t wait to get to Havanaand explore all the places he once was.

 

 

Traveling tip #7  Water, water everywhere. Buy water wherever and whenever you find it.  It has been incredibly difficult to find anything other than beer and rum to drink. Normally I wouldn’t necessarily have a problem with this, but one does need water.  I was lucky that the fridge in Baracoawas stocked with big bottles of water without gas.  Bring your own Nalgene to fill and keep a steady supply. Every casa so far has had a fridge to keep it cold.

Cuban Blog Dat #6 Water, Water Everywhere

 After breakfast, I went to the center to find out about the tour the gringos were taking. I secured it. I found out they have bus that leaves every day for Playa Managua at 10 am and returns at 4 pm. I’d missed it by 15 minutes. I was upset to have missed it, but I ended up taking a taxi for $15 CUC. The ride was about 40 minutes in the back of a jeep and the driver waited the whole time we were there to take us back.

I woke early and went up to the terrace to write.

Playa Managua was not what I was expecting. It wasn’t exactly the pristine beaches I’d seen pictures of in The Lonely Planet, but it was the first beach I’d been to and the water was reasonably clean and the beach itself wasn’t very crowded. The water was colder of than I expected, hoping for the bath water of the Caribbean, but we were on the Atlantic side. I immediately ran into the ocean as soon as I arrived.

I set up base and lay in the sun. I read. Very few vendors bothered me. A German came from the left with two giant conch shells which prompted me to go walking. I found a few myself, along with some very cool rocks to bring home.  The waiter from one of only two restaurants came to offer me drinks. I wanted a Cuba Libre and water, but he said, ‘only natural’ so I settled for a mojito and a pina colada. I’d thought water was quite natural, but not, I guess when it only comes in bottles.  I wished I’d taken the water from the stocked fridge in the casa.

The drinks were very strong. The waiter was awesome and at one point, while I was in the water, came to my spot on the beach, lifted my empty drink, and motioned toward it to ask if I wanted another. Excellent service.

I met two Rasta brothers that live in Baracoa, Robert and Bobby (I think they gave themselves English names and apparently didn’t know they were derivatives of each other.) They had tattoos which they proudly showed me. There was one of the island of Cuba with the words, ‘we need freedom’ written in English below it. Another said ‘don’t forget to smile.’

I talked with them for awhile. When they discovered I spoke Spanish, they asked me to translate a phrase for them into English because they were getting another tattoo that day. I translated the phrase, ‘do not let the struggles of this moment break the tenderness of your heart.’ I was thrilled to think that my words, in a small way, would be upon their bodies.

I left the beach around 4:30 and had dinner at the casa. I stayed in for the night and read. I’m reading The Sun Also Rises, by Hemmingway and really enjoying it. Can’t wait to get to Havana and explore all the places he once was.

 

 

Traveling tip #7  Water, water everywhere. Buy water wherever and whenever you find it.  It has been incredibly difficult to find anything other than beer and rum to drink. Normally I wouldn’t necessarily have a problem with this, but one does need water.  I was lucky that the fridge in Baracoa was stocked with big bottles of water without gas.  Bring your own Nalgene to fill and keep a steady supply. Every casa so far has had a fridge to keep it cold.

You Never Regret a Swim

                                                       You Never Regret a Swim

 

The other day, driving home, for no reason other then the turn onto my street, the sudden realization that this is what I do every day, turn left here and skip the stop sign, push the garage door opener too soon only to have to push it again once I am nearer, pull up to the mail box before turning into the driveway and then make my way into the garage, for no other reason, I had a flash of the flash that will happen right before I die; The highlight reel of my life that’s supposed to play before me as a way to calm my fears. I sat in the car inside the garage and let it all flow before me. The Grateful Dead on the radio setting the soundtrack for this glimpse of what was great in my life.

It is simple really, not unlike what I suppose it would really be, pleasant even, how one would hope it would be.  It is moments of me in various bodies of water. In Antarctica running from the Antarctic sea into the welcoming volcanic hot springsdug in the sand.  Drinking the Russian vodka in the paper cups the crew passed around for us. Who knows how they secured Russian vodka in Ushuaia before we set sail?  Skinny dipping in Nice under a full moon. The first time I ever skinny dipped.  Feeling for the first time like I was an adult, capable of making my own decisions. Feeling foolish and brave at the same time. Jumping off the bridge by Mishawaka. Still the scariest thing I’ve ever done. Swimming in the super secret swimming hole that most unusual spring. My first dive in Puerto Viejo. The feeling of needing to surface. My most recent dive in Belize, calm beneath the ocean. The glacial lake in Tierra Del Fuego. I didn’t last long in. The blow up swimming pool in Karen’s backyard. It summed up an entire summer to me, yet was only three days. Going to the beach every weekend in Hawaii, passing the pineapple fields on the drive. My brother and I boogie boarding, eating sandwiches with sand in them as we dried in the sun.  The pool I swam the length of even though it was freezing, to gain access to the park in Panamain lieu of the entrance fee.  The hotel pool in Comayagua we went to every Sunday and called church. The waterfall I climbed in Malaysia.  The falls we hiked to in Costa Rica to swim underneath. Climbing in the cave behind the Pulhapanzak waterfall in Honduras. The second scariest thing I’ve even done. I choose then not to jump the ten feet down. Tubing down the Poudre with a beer can in my hand.  Jumping from the zodiac of the Navimag in the archipelagos of Chile, swimming so close to the ship.  The sprinkler I let spray in the early days of June to jump in and out of when the sun became unbearable only to return again to my spot on the lawn chair in the middle of my yard.

I sat in my car and remembered all these moments, felt all these moments and thought how extremely happy I was during all of them. And I hoped one day there might be a flash to see before I die that might include you.

You Never Regret a Swim

                                                       You Never Regret a Swim

 

The other day, driving home, for no reason other then the turn onto my street, the sudden realization that this is what I do every day, turn left here and skip the stop sign, push the garage door opener too soon only to have to push it again once I am nearer, pull up to the mail box before turning into the driveway and then make my way into the garage, for no other reason, I had a flash of the flash that will happen right before I die; The highlight reel of my life that’s supposed to play before me as a way to calm my fears. I sat in the car inside the garage and let it all flow before me. The Grateful Dead on the radio setting the soundtrack for this glimpse of what was great in my life.

It is simple really, not unlike what I suppose it would really be, pleasant even, how one would hope it would be.  It is moments of me in various bodies of water. In Antarctica running from the Antarctic sea into the welcoming volcanic hot springs dug in the sand.  Drinking the Russian vodka in the paper cups the crew passed around for us. Who knows how they secured Russian vodka in Ushuaia before we set sail?  Skinny dipping in Nice under a full moon. The first time I ever skinny dipped.  Feeling for the first time like I was an adult, capable of making my own decisions. Feeling foolish and brave at the same time. Jumping off the bridge by Mishawaka. Still the scariest thing I’ve ever done. Swimming in the super secret swimming hole that most unusual spring. My first dive in Puerto Viejo. The feeling of needing to surface. My most recent dive in Belize, calm beneath the ocean. The glacial lake in Tierra Del Fuego. I didn’t last long in. The blow up swimming pool in Karen’s backyard. It summed up an entire summer to me, yet was only three days. Going to the beach every weekend in Hawaii, passing the pineapple fields on the drive. My brother and I boogie boarding, eating sandwiches with sand in them as we dried in the sun.  The pool I swam the length of even though it was freezing, to gain access to the park in Panama in lieu of the entrance fee.  The hotel pool in Comayagua we went to every Sunday and called church. The waterfall I climbed in Malaysia.  The falls we hiked to in Costa Rica to swim underneath. Climbing in the cave behind the Pulhapanzak waterfall in Honduras. The second scariest thing I’ve even done. I choose then not to jump the ten feet down. Tubing down the Poudre with a beer can in my hand.  Jumping from the zodiac of the Navimag in the archipelagos of Chile, swimming so close to the ship.  The sprinkler I let spray in the early days of June to jump in and out of when the sun became unbearable only to return again to my spot on the lawn chair in the middle of my yard.

I sat in my car and remembered all these moments, felt all these moments and thought how extremely happy I was during all of them. And I hoped one day there might be a flash to see before I die that might include you.