I had a nice view from my balcony on Calle E. San Rafael. No sunrises or sunsets, but always something different to look at.
I heard it often and I heard it in English. “Every Day Is The Same”.
Maybe it’s the newest joke or wisecrack.
I even fell for it myself.
My Havana host asked “What do you think of the world today?”
I gave him my two-minute simplified rant in basic English, then asked him the same question.
With a wry smile he said “It doesn’t matter. In Cuba, every day is the same.”
Then I started hearing it on the street.
Maybe it’s the truth.
I observed a lot of construction in Old Havana. I’m not certain what they were doing. Perhaps they were preparing to bury water or power lines. I did notice that a lot of the work was being done by hand. I also noticed some of the workers wearing hard hats, causing me to believe that a foreign company was involved. The usual ratio of those working to those standing around seems to prevail, even in Cuba.
We were fortunate enough to get some heavy surf along the Malecon in Havana. I wanted a different point of view so I put my camera on a small table-top tripod and placed it on the ground. I would take three quick shots, pick up my camera and back away a few feet to avoid the spray. I had the wave timing figured out (I thought).
Yes, I got wet on this one.
It’s not difficult to find the bakery. The ovens baking the fresh bread every morning send the delightful aroma drifting through the streets of Trinidad. Some people show up to make their purchases and others will wait for one the bread men to load his bicycle and make a delivery.
Unfortunately, the aroma is the best part of this government bread. The crust is very hard and thick and the inside lacks any substantial texture or taste.