Art-people overload

Friday, July 6th 2018

Paris, France 

It’s 10am CES and we are slowly getting ready for another full day of Paris. Having knocked out 70% of our to-do list on Day 1, we are looking forward to a leisurely day of wandering the city. We start off at our neighborhood cafe. The sidewalk tables are empty and we take up two little tables by sitting on the same side. Almost immediately our server comes out and tells not to do that. So many rules here. 

Ever since we started planning this trip, we’ve been debating whether or not to go to the Louvre. Around the middle of our second cup, we decide to go. We agree to only spend a few hours and to skip the artifacts and really old art. 

It takes about 30 minutes to get into Louvre. It is very crowded and already a vastly different experience than the Musee d’Orsay. We grab a guide and determine that we should spend our time on the top 2 floors, where the most recent work is located. Almost immediately we run into the Winged Victory of Samothrace. Sarah has to explain to me that it’s from 200 BC and I have to admit that I am pretty impressed. Some people are taking photos, but most are just glancing nonchalantly on their way past. The stage is pretty much set for the rest of the morning. 

We pass by piece after piece of incredibly important paintings and sculptures with little to no fanfare. It’s weird that so many relics are so close together; I feel a great sense of inadequacy on behalf of the US. 

At one point we accidentally wander into Napoleon's apartment. Honestly, I did not know this was here and I am pretty excited about it. We spend almost 30 minutes walking around various rooms covered in red velvet and gold. It’s so decadent and fun in here. 

Eventually we decide to make our way back to the main entrance. It takes almost 20 minutes to get out of the current wing. I swear that we are going in one direction, but we keep circling back to the same spot. This place is too much. 

Around 3pm we are done with Louvre and have successfully navigated out of a completely different door than where we entered. It’s okay though, we’re back outside and I am secretly relieved. We immediately find a cafe to sit and relax. When the server comes I blurt out an order for a Sauvignon Blanc. I was not planning on day drinking during this trip, but the art-people overload has driven me here. Sarah agrees and orders a Cotes du Rhone. Once again we are faced with a menu dominated by sandwiches. We agree to get a few appetizers instead, ultimately resulting in a cheese plate and lox. Now, this is what I envisioned for a cheese plate in France. Everything is excellent and we are appropriately tipsy for 4pm. 

We notice the world cup playing in the background. Today is the quarter-final and France is playing Uruguay. We both hope that France wins. 

After our very late lunch, we we decide to make one more art-related stop at the Musee de l’Orangerie, which I call the museum of Orange Lingerie in my head. On the way there, Sarah suggests that we duck into what looks like a small courtyard and are greeted by a large square of black and white striped columns of all different heights. This is an outdoor installation at the Palais de Tokyo and there is a couple taking wedding photos at the far end. We each take at least 30 pictures of the different columns and each other. I'm still a little wine buzzed and having an awesome time. 

Soon we arrive at Orange Lingerie and I am excited to see what happens next. As we enter there is a small gift shop and some sketches of water lilies. The first room is large, white, round and covered in nearly 365 degrees of Monet’s water lilies. Wow, this is pretty cool. There are a lot of visitors, but the room is almost completely silent and everyone is taking turns approaching the painting for pictures. 

After a while we wonder into the next room, which has the same set up. Sometimes I think that seeing art in person has only marginal value over seeing it in a book, but this work is completely different in person. I am really happy that we came here. 

As we are about to leave, we realize there are a few more galleries downstairs. We take about 30 minutes to walk through several room featuring Matisse, Picasso, and Renoir. There is so much to see here that I feel dumbfounded.     

Now that early evening is settling in, we take a walk over to the Champs Elysees. It’s very crowded and the game is playing in every cafe. This part of town looks very different than our neighborhood. I am happy that we are seeing it, but deep down inside I think it looks a little bit like Downtown Disney. We walk to the end of the avenue and get our obligatory photos of the Arc de Triomphe. Just as we snapping our 3rd round of selfies, the street burst into yelling and the sound of many car horns. The French police have lined the street in such volume that they are almost standing shoulder to shoulder. It looks like France won the game.     

As time progresses the fervor only grows. Herds of drunk guys march around yelling the national anthem; cars drive up and down the avenue relentlessly bearing down on their horns. There are small bursts of blue confetti. 

We walk back to a quieter neighborhood and are not completely sure what to do next. We need to kill two hours or so before dinner and don’t really have anything else on our list. We duck into a small sidewalk cafe / bar to sit and people watch. I have a few rounds of Rosé and Sarah has some beer. We tear through the small plate of peanuts on our table and the server has to refill it three times. Around 7pm we walk back to our hotel to change for dinner. 

For dinner we walk to Le Relais de l’Entrecote. Recommended by Sarah’s parents, this place serves only steak and fries and sounds fantastic. When we arrive there is only a small line. We happily line up and I unconsciously open up my Pokemon Go app. I am able to get onto the city wifi and immediately a Mr. Mime appears. I squeal in joy and immediately shove my phone in Sarah’s face to show her. Mr. Mime is a special Pokemon that can only be caught in Europe. It takes a few attempts but I eventually add Mr. Mime to my Pokedex. This moment just made my day. 

After only a few more minutes we are seated inside. We get a bottle house wine and the server asks how we would like our steak. I say medium-rare and she says that I’ll have it rare. For the next hour we are served endless little pieces of steak, french fries and a green sauce that tastes like nothing I have ever had. I love this place so much. 

After dinner we walk back to the Seine. We sit next to the water and watch groups of teenagers, locals and tourists enjoy the long summer evening. I am starting to understand why people love Paris and hate the Louvre.     

Le Chet Blanc

Thursday, July 5th 2018

Paris, France 

Around 10am CES we are finally getting out of bed for our first full day in France. I am slightly groggy, but my melatonin is really helping. We start our day by picking a random sidewalk cafe. The menu is all pastries, so we opt for something called cafe creme, which is basically coffee with steamed milk. We are in the Saint-Germain-Des-Pres neighborhood. The streets are narrow and several locals pedal by on their bicycles carrying things like flowers and bread. This is scene straight out of a movie. We are so charmed that we order another round of coffees. 

Around 12noon we finally get our day started at the Musee d’Orsay. Walking through the entryway is a truly stunning experience. The museum is housed in an old, gutted train station. Most of the space is open and flooded with natural light. The main hall is predominantly old, marble statues. There is lots of open space and the opulence of the statues plays well with the utilitarian frame and concrete floors of the old train station. 

The museum is 2 stories and has galleries running along either side of the main hall on both floors. There is also a huge metal clock, near the front, which used to be part of the original structure. We spend a little over 2 hours browsing most of the rooms. We are so overwhelmed with important art that we can’t fully react to most of it. This is what wine aficionados must feel in Napa. 

I notice there is an overrepresentation of dogs in French art. I mention this to Sarah and she says that dogs are important. I think that cats are important too, but I keep that thought to myself. Just as we are about leave, Sarah waves me over and points at a painting of a cat. Le Chet Blanc. Wow, that cat looks just like Cal. He even has flat ears. I explain to Sarah this is incredible because Scottish Folds were not recognized as breed until 1961 and even then, they were mostly in Scotland. Well, this made my day. On the way out, I buy a refrigerator magnet to commemorate the moment.   

It’s 3pm now and we are officially hungry. Sarah has researched a few restaurants and suggests one in Hemingway's old neighborhood. I agree and we are quickly seated. The menu is mostly sandwiches, but I find a quiche and an appetizer that seems to be mostly cheese. Sarah orders the lox and almost 30 minutes later, we’re served lunch. I’m pretty happy with my meal. It’s getting to the end of lunch service, but we both insist on coffee afterwards. Our server begrudgingly obliges. 

Next we walk over to the Luxembourg Gardens, which is spectacular. There is lots of open space, combined with statues, fountains and perfectly manicured plants. I notice some metal chairs sitting next to the fountains and statues. These chairs are not attached to the ground and in LA they would be stolen immediately. The French are clearly more responsible. I also notice the silence. We can actually hear the wind rustling the small plants near the main fountain.  

After contemplating silence and chairs for about half an hour, we walk over to Notre Dame. The building is enormous and covered in detail. We think about going inside, but the line spans the entire courtyard. Sarah mentions the Sainte-Chapelle, where we are met with a much smaller line into a much smaller church. This works. The Sainte-Chapelle is little and totally over the top. The first floor is a mix of small stained glass windows, informational panels, some statues, a shrine and a little gift shop. The second floor is almost completely stained glass with a high vaulted ceiling. The room is crowded, but almost completely silent. This place is so cool. 

It’s nearing 7pm and it's time for us to head back to the hotel to change for dinner. We are meeting one of Sarah’s friends by the river for a pre-dinner drink. Jacqueline texts Sarah a place to meet, which ends up being one of the main floating bars on our side of the Seine. I am pretty excited, since I’ve been wanting to drink wine on a boat ever since we got here. Sarah and I arrive early and order a round while we wait. We aggressively try to get a table on the front patio. After about 10 minutes, we are successful. When Jacqueline arrives, she immediately buys us another round. I like her already!

After a drink at the bar we walk around the river for a little bit and eventually end up buying one more round from a walk up window. It’s getting close to dinner time and we all discuss what we want. Jacqueline is eating vegetarian so our original plan of steak and fries is not going to work. Jacqueline explains about a new restaurant on the right bank that is attached to a gallery. It sounds very fancy and comes highly recommended from her husband, who is a sommelier. We are in. 

We don't have a reservation, but end up being seated immediately. We start out with wine, cheese and clams. For the main dish, I am completely overwhelmed and end up ordering a chicken burger. It tastes good, but I wish I would have been more creative. For dessert we compromise and end up with berries with cream and flourless chocolate cake. It’s good, but a little too much. After dinner, Sarah and I slowly amble back to our side of the river. We opt for nightcap on the river. We enjoy great conversation and a view of the Ponte Alexendre III (which is a bridge so ornate that I can’t decide if it funny or beautiful). 

Around midnight we wander back into our hotel. Again, we agree to late start for tomorrow.     

The city of lights and sunlight

Wednesday, July 4th 2018

Paris, France

I am slowly waking up on the airplane. The cabin lights are back on and the smell of coffee fills the cabin. Current time is unknown. 

My coffee cup is teeny tiny and I shamelessly ask for multiple refills. After breakfast I spend a few minutes brushing my teeth, moisturizing and getting my stuff back together. I find one of socks across the aisle, 2 rows back. Oops. 

Eventually we land and I am one of the first people off the plane. I immediately find an ATM to grab some Euros for my cab into town. Eventually I hit the line for immigration and it is very long. After about 15 minutes of not moving, one of the airport personnel waves me into a new line that is moving much faster. She pulls me to the front and then the man in the passport window calls me forward. He gives me a stamp and waves me through. I’m not sure what just happened, but I am pretty happy about it. 

By the time I make it to baggage claim, my bag is just coming down the carousel. I walk outside and get a cab immediately. I show the cabbie the name for my hotel and he says that he doesn’t know it. I’m a little thrown off, but I know that I have the address somewhere and just tell him to head towards the Musee d’Orsay. Eventually I find the address and show it to him. We sit in traffic for at least an hour. When we get to the center of town my driver is mad and aggressive. Eventually he stops on one of the main roads and says that he can not get closer to the hotel and that I need to walk. He does a terrible job of giving me directions and then drives off. 

I try to connect to wifi on my phone to get directions, but I have no luck. I see the Musee d’Orsay a block up and head in that direction. Eventually I am able to get onto their wifi and download walking directions to our hotel, which is a few blocks away. I’m feeling angry at that cab driver and am sure that feeling is mutual. After 15 minutes of dragging my bag over cobblestone, I arrive at the hotel. I know that Sarah has already checked in so I ask the front desk for a key. Instead she calls Sarah down into the lobby to meet me. Oh well, I’m here!

Sarah shows me our incredibly small hotel room and waits patiently while I put on makeup, brush my hair and change shoes. It’s about 6pm and we decide to walk up to the river and see the Eiffel tower before a late dinner. Our walk up the Seine is very nice. The weather is astoundingly beautiful and the bright orange sunlight is casting long shadows of the overly ornate bridges onto the pedestrian path. There are locals and tourists everywhere. Vendors are selling bottles of wine out of rolly carts and the mood is upbeat. 

Eventually we hit the Eiffel tower. There is some construction, so it takes us a few minutes to find the actual entrance. We buy tickets to go to the top and then wait in line for what seems like forever. Finally, when we arrive at the top, the view is amazing. The sun is just setting and the whole town looks pink and white. The City of Lights has lived up to its name and the sun hasn’t even set yet. They are selling glasses of champagne at the very top and I opt buy some from me and Sarah. After all, what’s one more line at this point? 

After 2 glasses of champagne and about 100 pictures, we head back down to find some dinner. We are both famished and it’s nearly 10pm. We decide to not be picky about dinner and grab a table at the first cafe that we find. We sit outside, with a view of the Eiffel tower and its periodically sparkling lights. We start with a carafe of Bordeaux and a cheese plate. I feel that the cheese is a little larger than I expected, but everything tastes fine. I order the duck, which proves to the be the best duck I’ve ever eaten. Sarah orders a steak and is lukewarm about it. After dinner we drink more wine and are happily buzzed as we walk back down the river in the crisp evening air.  

We end up in bed by 1am and agree to a late start tomorrow. 

Seat 1A

Tuesday, July 3rd 2018

Los Angeles, CA and Paris, France

It’s around 4pm PST and I am packing up from work to leave for my summer vacation in France. I am very excited and have plenty of time to spare so I opt for an Uber Pool from downtown to the airport. When my driver picks me up I am the only one in the car. We may need to pick someone else up, but I have so much time that I almost don’t care. Just as we are about to get onto the highway I am notified that we will be adding a passenger. As we progress to the next pick up point, traffic increases tenfold. To make matters worse, my driver seems to constantly be in the wrong lane. A full hour later we are finally leaving downtown and on our way to the airport. This is the last time I ever take a rideshare to the airport. 

When we arrive at LAX I still have 2 hours before my flight leaves. I booked my ticket almost 6 months ago and opted for the economy premium ticket. Since then I received a notification that our aircraft has been changed and my new seat number will be 1A. I am cautiously optimistic about this development.

I use the premium check in lane and don’t have to wait at all. The guy that checks my bag looks at me with great excitement and says “yeah, you’re going to France!”. I smile; after all, he’s right. 

I still have about an hour and a half to kill so I go check out the One World Lounge. I have not been in an airport lounge since I was a little kid, so I’m not completely sure what to expect. 

Holy crap, this place is beautiful. I start out with a full lap. The lighting is low, the seats are spread out appropriately, there are 2 full bars, a buffet, a dessert bar, self serve coffee, soda and wine. Whoa. Self serve, complimentary wine. There is not even a tip jar. This place is so classy. 

I’m not very enthused by the food so I grab a small plate of nuts and pour myself a glass of Chardonnay. I settle into a large chair and can’t stop smiling. I spend my time listening to music and catching the odd Pokemon on Pokemon Go. I have a book and a few movies, but I am more interested in taking in the moment. 

Eventually I have to leave the lounge to board the plane. I grab 2 liters of water from a small newsstand. Boarding is delayed for about an hour, but I’m not stressed. In fact, I’m a little drunk and a lot happy. 

When we finally board, I am shown to seat 1A. I am so happy with this seat that I want to jump out of my skin. Instead, I say thank you and agree to glass of champagne. 

This is seat is actual first class. There is enough space on the floor in front of my seat for me to lay down on the floor completely. I restrain myself and focus on people watching instead. Most of first class is filled with a group that is clearly traveling together. When the women in seat 1B arrives she looks across the aisle at her husband and sighs in an overly exasperated way. He responds, “we don’t have to sit next to each other”. I stare ahead, holding in laughter. 

My neighbor in 1B is vegan and keep telling the flight attendant about her requirements. Meanwhile, I am basically drunk and tearing apart strips of beef jerky using my teeth and bare hands. This meat is very tough and I am thinking it’s a good thing there is a lot of space up here. 

The plane ride goes smoothly. I finished up the Netflix series, Love and play a few rounds of Plants versus Zombies on my iPad. Eventually I drift off to sleep. 

Chairs made of marble

Saturday, December 9th 2017

Habana, Cuba and Los Angeles, CA

It’s 9am and sheets of rain are pounding on the roof and window. It’s my last day in Cuba. Due to American Airlines consolidating flights, Laura and Andrew departed 10 hours ahead of schedule. I silently curse the airline industry and praise Alaska Airlines for sticking to their schedule in the midst of declining travel to Cuba. My plane will leave, as planned, at 6pm. 

My room is cool and it smells like rain. I opt to stay in bed for another hour. At 10am the rain is still pouring down. 

I slowly start organizing my bag. I decide to leave behind a few items for our host, including my blue Nike hat. I take a quick shower. The water is cold and I wonder if it’s actually rain. While I am washing my face Yasmina surprises me by knocking on the bathroom door. She asks if I want coffee, but I decline. 

Around 11am I lug my bags down the stairs and check in with Yasmina. She agrees to have a driver pick me up at 3pm and offers me her umbrella for the day. She is very nice, but I decline the umbrella. 

My plan was to take a cab to Fusterlandia, an outdoor art installation and then to Cementerio de Colin. When I step outside the streets are totally empty and all of the gutters are flooding. Change of plans. 

I jog between overhangs to Plaza Catedral and pick the fanciest restaurant I can find. I am the only one there, so I take the best table. The restaurant is beautiful. The ceilings are high and everything is made of marble, even parts of the chair. An extremely formal waiter approaches to take my order. I decide to order a beer and two appetizers. I know it’s unconventional but I can not eat anymore pork and rice. I order seafood stew and a side of mushrooms. The waiter looks confused, but I stand my ground. 

I use our remaining wifi minutes to check in with a few people. At one point I try to log into my work email a few times, but my access is denied (later I’ll find out that I triggered a security event, which interrupted Saturday plans for at least 2 IT workers). 

My food takes a while, so I end up ordering another beer. The waiter tells me that the beer is strong and I tell him that it’s okay, I am strong too. For a guy with one customer, he’s pretty judgmental. 

Eventually my food arrives. It turns out that my side of mushrooms is actually a creamy soup. Now I have two very large bowls of soup in front of me. Luckily, I am drunk enough to not care. I take my time working through my food. I eat every bite and feel strongly this is the best meal of the trip. 

After lunch I still have an hour and half to kill. The rain continues. 

I dash from overhang to overhang around the square and land at the Museo Nacional de Historia Natural. I pay 1 CUC to enter and am immediately charmed. The bottom half is mix of information panels explaining how the earth was made and representing each of the main different geological periods. The top half is full of random taxidermy and nearly one fourth of the space is dedicated to the cockroaches of Cuba. All of the information cards are in Spanish, so I spend some time attempting to read them. I amuse myself by making up translations for some of the words I don’t know. 

After the museum, I have time for quick cup of coffee. I duck into a charming, little cafeteria and order a cup of black coffee. A Canadian couple sits a table near me and I can hear them trying to figure out their agenda for the next few days. 

As soon I arrive back at Yasmina's, my driver arrives 10 minutes early. He leads me to his awesome, vintage Ford; the engine is so loud that we can not talk. I am relieved to sit silently. At one point he yells over the engine that I will be leaving from Terminal 2 and I yell back that it’s Terminal 3. He feels strongly that it’s Terminal 2, but eventually agrees to take me to 3. 

I arrive so early that the check in booth is not even open yet. After waiting for 30 minutes, I get through check in and security and have plenty of time at the gate. I order a few mini sandwiches and another beer. I spend my time reading and making laps through the duty free shop. 

My plane boards on time and the trip back to LAX is smooth. 

When I approach the customs officer I am feeling nervous. I was grandfathered into the People to People general travel license, but it no longer exists as of last month. I am legal, but I really do not want to explain myself. The officer views my passport and says “You’re coming from Mexico”. I think this is a trick and immediately correct him. “No, Cuba”. He lets out a small groan. After a long pause, he replies “okay, have a nice day”. This is not the first time that my compulsive honesty has annoyed customs officials.

I easily grab my bag and make it through the last checkpoint into LA. I am feeling very accomplished and also glad to be home. 

Yasmina's staircase

Friday, December 8th 2017

Trinidad and Habana, Cuba

It’s 7:30am and we are gathering for Darnel’s amazing coffee before our 8am departure to Habana. Once we all have coffee in hand, Darnel and I go over our bill for the mini bar. We drank all of the beer and most of the soda. Our bill comes out to 12 CUCs. 

By 7:55am, Yusmani, our driver, is knocking on the door. By 7:59 we are on our way. The car ride is long and I spend most of it watching Netflix on my iPad. At one point, Yusmani pulls over to pee on the side of the road. While we are waiting patiently, a police officer approaches our parked car. Oh crap, we quickly nominate Laura to talk and roll down the window. Laura manages to sputter out something to the effect of "bano de la naturaleza", which translates to "nature's toilet". Soon Yusmani comes running back to the car and we all laugh. 

At the halfway point we meet up with Hickli again and switch into his boat of a car. Andrew sits up front and explains that we need a place to stay in Habana. Hickli is all business and it's taken care of in 5 minutes flat.

Eventually, we arrive at our casa particular in Habana. Hickli asks if we want to look around first and we all get the feeling that we should. We enter into a shell of a building and into another building inside of it. We are led up a marble staircase, which is significantly tilted to one side. 

Hickli introduces us to Yasmina, who shows us the first room. The ceiling is low, but there is an AC unit and lots of space. She says that she needs to clean the second room, but shows it to us anyways. There are toys and clothes strewn everywhere. This is clearly a child’s room and I feel terrible about taking it. None of us are sure what to do, but we are uncomfortable refusing the house so we just smile and nod.  

Yasmina asks if we want coffee and I automatically say yes and then immediately regret my decision. It takes 20 minutes to make the coffee and the boiling water is raising the temperature in the whole apartment.

Once we’ve fully displaced Yasmina and her son, we head into town for lunch. We pick the first restaurant that we see (they are all starting to taste the same anyways).

After lunch, we walk to our old neighborhood to visit the shopping square that Pablo showed us on our first day. First things first, we all buy a few bottles of rum. Next Laura and Andrew go into the the cigar shop. There is conflicting information on how many cigars you can bring back to the US. I sit outside while Laura and Andrew figure everything out. I feel like I should be buying more cigars, but, honestly, I just don't want them.  

Next, we walk slowly back to our house while looking for tshirts. I am surprised by the lack of souvenirs in Habana. Eventually I find a t-shirt and canvas bag; I successfully negotiate the price down by 5 CUCs. It's our last day in Cuba and I am finally getting the hang of things!

Once we drop our stuff off, it is getting to be late afternoon and we have nothing left to do. We find a table on the front porch of a large water-facing bar and start to peruse their extremely complicated drink menu. When the server finally arrives he explains that they only have mojitos. Alright, tres mojitos!

20 minutes later, we see our server walking towards the bar carrying a large bag of ice on his back. I think to myself that I don’t even want ice but am gracious when our drinks finally arrive. Around 8pm, we decide to walk over to La Buena Vista Social Club. We we arrive it comes to light that (A) tickets are 80 CUCs each and (B) there are no tickets left. We ask if we can sit in the bar for appetizers and drinks and they oblige. 

This place is pretty cool, but compared to everything else, it is grossly overpriced. I end up ordering a sangria and we all split an appetizer. We have a nice time and decide to head back to our side of town for dinner. By the time we get there, it’s late. We pick the first restaurant we see. The service is slow and we finish 2 rounds beer before we get our food. Somewhere amidst fatigue, dehydration and Yasmina’s tilted staircase, I get the idea that nothing in Habana is structurally sound, including our current balcony. I study the balconies on the building across the street intently. I am sure that our table is going to crash down to street-level any minute.  

After surviving dinner, we make the short walk back to our casa particular. Upon approach of our titled marble staircase we all quietly take out our phones for pictures. For the last time, we ascend the staircase. 

I have officially met my limit for crumbling infrastructure and overcooked meat and I am glad this is our last night in Cuba. 

When I enter my room, it is only partially cleaned. I think that I will never fall asleep, but I am out the second my head hits the pillow. 

Rum, coconuts and ice cream

Thursday, December 7th 2017

Trinidad, Cuba

It’s 9am EDT and I am waking up for our last full day in Trinidad. After driving across the country and hiking through the rain forest I am feeling like we have finally earned our beach day! My spirits are high as I bound into the courtyard for breakfast. Eventually, I am joined by a tired Andrew and a sick Laura. Laura looks and sounds markedly worse than yesterday. I really feel bad for her but secretly hope that she’ll come to the beach anyways. 

Darnel serves us another exceptional breakfast, while we ponder the day. As soon as we are done eating, Laura announces that she will not be leaving the house and I totally understand. Oh well, this is my chance to bond with Andrew! We take about 30 minutes to get ready and then reconvene in the living room. 

Previously we had discussed riding bicycles, but given the heat, we decide it would be better to take a cab. Getting a cab is easy, even with our extremely limited skills in Spanish. The ride out to the beach is about 20 minutes. The road is narrow and covered in direct sunlight. I am happy we are not on bikes. 

Soon we arrive at Playa Ancon. Our driver says that he’ll wait for us and we try to negotiate a time. He says it doesn’t matter and to just come find him when we are ready to leave. I think this is an inefficient way to run a taxi business, but I keep that thought to myself. 

First things first, we take a few minutes to walk the length of the beach. It’s mostly empty and the sand is fine and almost white. The water is warm and bright blue. The beach is interspersed with little hut shaped bars and small sailboats offering snorkeling tours. I vote for a snorkeling tour and Andrew seconds the motion. We go and talk to one of the sailboat guys he tells us to go check into a small hut up the beach. We are instructed to leave all of our stuff in the hut. We are both uncomfortable with this, but end up doing it anyways. Eventually, it’s time to leave and we awkwardly climb onto the tiny sailboat with a small group of other tourists. 

Our guide takes us about 50 feet out into the ocean and then provides each of us with goggles and a snorkel. We hop into the water and spend the next 30 minutes swimming around. The water is really warm, which is nice, but my goggles are enormous and keep filling up with water. In between emptying my goggles, I see lots of tropical fish and coral. When it’s time to head back, I am a little relieved. 

Back on dry land, I announce my mission to drink rum from a coconut. We walk up to a hut bar and do not see the coconut drink on the menu. They take our order for regular drinks and then explain that the seating at the tables are for hotel guests and that we have to go sit on the sand. 

Right when we sit down, a guy selling coconut drinks approaches us. We tell him that we just ordered from the bar. He says that he’ll come back later and instructs us to buy from him and not the bar. I agree. His coconuts look awesome. 

Soon our bar drinks are delivered and we are officially on beach vacation! We stare at the ocean and talk about our time in Cuba. At one point a tall Australian woman approaches us and asks if we have plans for dinner. We tell her no and she hands us a smudged up business card from the restaurant where she ate last night. She says that it’s really good and that we should go. I put the card in my bag. This is so random. 

Eventually our drinks run dry. I look around, but our coconut guy is nowhere in sight. I get up to go look for him but end up walking back to the hut bar. Even though they do not have coconut drinks on the menu, I tell them that I want one and they agree to make it (it’s starting to seem like menus really don't matter here). 

Man, this drink is strong. Inevitably, our old guy returns and I cleverly hide my drink from the hut bar. I almost sneak it past him but he sees the straw poking out from underneath my towel. He points at my drink and laughs hysterically. I can’t help but laugh too. Cubans have a way of laughing at you and with you at the same time. 

Around 1pm we are ready to go check in with Laura. We approach the parking lot full of cab drivers and our original driver emerges from the crowd. He drives us back to our house for the same rate. Logistics are surprisingly easy here.

When get back to the house, Laura is sitting in front of the AC. Her room is at least 40 degree cooler than outside and she still looks very sick. She agrees to look for restaurants for lunch, while Andrew and I get ready. After about 20 minutes we reconvene in the courtyard. Laura has found a restaurant in her guidebook with confirmed air conditioning and we unanimously agree this is a good idea. 

At the San Jose restaurant we are seated immediately. Our table is receiving adequate air flow and we are within line of sight of a TV playing soap operas. We are trying hard not to stare at the TV, but we are tired and running out of conversation. We start out with a round of El Presidents. After 8 days in the Cuban heat we are slowly coming around to idea of light beer. When it’s time to order I opt for fried plantains and a pork chop. I am drunk, famished and overly excited for lunch.

We all enjoy our long lunch and once we are done, we head over to the main square to buy souvenirs. I end up with a t-shirt and a handful of cigars. On the way back we stop at an open air market. I spot an art gallery and we duck in to take a look around. The art looks original and the smaller pieces are reasonably priced. I take about 20 minutes to pick out 2 small paintings of roosters. I attempt to negotiate on price, but end up paying the sticker price. Oh well, I now own Cuban art! Yay!

After shopping, it’s still hot outside and we all agree that a siesta is in order. Around 5pm, Andrew and I decide to take a walk around the newer part of Trinidad and check out Parque Central Cespedes. When we arrive, there are a handful of municipal buildings and a group of teenagers accessing wifi on their phones. Yep, we’ve pretty much seen all of Trinidad.  

We walk back to the house and around 6pm we are ready for dinner. Andrew tells the story about the tall Australian and her restaurant recommendation; Laura agrees that we have to go there. 

By 6:15 we are being seated at Taberna Don Madeley. The restaurant is completely empty. Our server is very friendly and recommends 5 different cocktails. We are overwhelmed and order the first one that she mentioned (they are all different combinations of rum, lime and sugar anyways). Our meal ends up being very tasty. I have to give Cuba credit for having extremely good service in every single restaurant. It’s the kind of place where there are at least 3 servers per table and you can just think about what you want and someone will bring it to you. 

After dinner we walk over to a little ice cream store for dessert. Laura has been contemplating ice cream since we arrived in Trinidad. This is her coconut drink. 

After dinner we decide to make the most of our last night in Trinidad. Laura is still sick, but we resolve to make a lap around the main square to see if anything is happening. In this moment, I truly love my very sick friend.

We spot a rooftop bar with live music. We climb up two flights of steps and a small ladder to get to the roof and then we have practically walk through the band to get to a table. Once we are seated, we settle on a round of canchancharas. The band is awesome and does a great job of playing just loud enough. We lounge around Paladar El Criollo for the rest of the evening. The music is good, the breeze is cool and there’s just the right amount of rum in my cocktail. 

Around 11pm we call it a night and head back to our house. On the way back Andrew sprains his ankle and I immediately feel great empathy due to my great-sprain in 2016 in New York. He hobbles back to the house like a champ and we are all asleep way before midnight.

Tomorrow is our last full day in Cuba. I like it here but I am also getting tired of rice and humidity.