Cuba 2: Plaza de la Revolución
Why did you do that?
“Because I’m the smaller one.”
(Breakfast. Can’t remember what this was about. Perhaps he took the smaller pineapple. We had pineapple every day without fail for breakfast.)
We stroll down to Plaza de la Revolución, see a humming bird on the way. Just amazing, how they dart around and hover before darting off again. Beautiful creatures.
(Took a load of photos. None of them came out. The damn bird was too fast.)
Plaza de la Revolución is big, just big. Che and Fidel look on from the sides. Politics is everywhere in Cuba and the revolution keeps it alive.
Find a hop-on hop-off tourist bus that will bring us around for the day. Convince young fella of its merits, that we wouldn’t have to walk as much as yesterday. We hop on. No seats. The thing is jammed. Eventually, after getting seats, we don’t want to hop off again. It seems this was the original cause of the lack of seats. Finally get off the bus at Parque Central when bus driver kicks us off to have lunch. He’d only driven us around the same stuff we’d seen walking yesterday.
We walk again, keep walking. We’re destined to walk. Up around the entrance to the bay, down along the promenade. Sun glistens off the highly polished chrome of the old-timers as they drive by.
Everyone does their living on the streets. It seems they only sleep at home, otherwise they’re on the street, playing, talking, listening to music, socializing. The odd car has to keep beeping frequently to let people know it’s a road. Here, people are king; they’ve reclaimed the streets, if indeed they were ever unclaimed in the first place.
Watching lads boxing and sparring in an outdoor boxing gym. Straight away invited in for a closer look. Hesitate for a second and you’ll get an invitation in Cuba.
Good discussion about the solar system under a full moon and Venus on the way home. Of course we never managed to find that bus again to hop back on. Still, it gave our legs a brief break.