Today started woth a very early alarm. Well, not so very early, but early enough that I had the debate of whethwr to shower or sleep an extra ten minutes. Despite having walked 10 miles yesterday, the extra ten minutes of sleep won.
After my fruit and omelette breakfast, I said my goodbyes to Miguel and Andrés before getting into a neighbor's aged Russian sedan and headinf out on an eerily quiet street. For some reason it reminded me of that movie, "Not Without my Baby" where Sally Fields is escaping an abusive marriage in Iran and smuggles her child out of the country. Actually the details are hazy because I saw it very young, but clearly it made an impression, as I think about it in only remotely related situations.
The bus station was fine, I loaded on and had the luck of nobody sitting by me for a few stops. The couple in front of me just couldnt figure out how to keep their seats from reclining, gosh dangit, so my space was ingringed upon a bit. Oh well I got over it pretty quickly (except Im still thinking about it now...). The Viazúl bus system is supposidly used for just tourists. Theyre relatively (relatively) high end coaches, but they certainly had seen better days. Just a reminded that lots of folks live in very different circumstances. Ive seen buses for Cubans, and they can literally be a covered truck bed with a bench.
I drifted to sleep for a bit and only remember two dreams: one where the bus was going up and then down a very tall hill, like a roller-coaster; and another where we stopped at a truck stop and it was just like those mega convenience stores in the US or Europe and they had diet coke! Clearly you can tell whats on my mind. Its interesting visiting a country whose economy is still in the process of developing modern amenities. Most stores are small, and only carry a handful of items, and only one brand of each item. The shelves are fairly bare (though maybe they go for just-in-time stocking) and devoid of foreign brands. The same (state-run?) company that bottles the one brand of filtered water also cans a few fruit sodas and one cola, but I havent seen Coke or Pepsi here. It must be the trade embargo because the price for a can of piña soda is the same as would ve for coke. I did see a bag of Snickers hidden in one shop, but they were $30. I think most shops that Cubans buy in are state-owned. Again: no frills, no selection, poor lighting. Maybe the locals just don't rely as much on packaged food, and make more from scratch.
Trinidad, as a whole, is much more developed around the tourist industry than Havana is. Of course, its been a UNESCO world heritage site for decades, so its had time to figure it out. Restaurants on every block, opportunities for excursions. There's also the bad: sketchy folks waiting to prey on tourists unloading from buses, and constant hounding in the street for horse rides, reataurants, and wifi cards. Those things aren't necessarily bad, but their eagerness to serve can be mistaken for eagerness to cheat.
Centuries ago the area amassed great wealth via sugar production. As a result this fairly small but wealthy town has some very photogenic buildings and neighborhoods. Its glory days have passed and now its industry is the double-edged sward of tourism. I walked the blocks, enjoyed the view from the palace (?) tower, and took in a soccer game of the local boys. Their field was dirt and their goal posts three crosses for which their neighborhood is named, and they spent about as much time arguing fouls or celebrafing goals as playing. Early on my observation, their partially deflated ball rolled near my spot on the sideline. Fortunately my kick, though in the right direction, only got it halfway to them (hey, it was my left foot), so their was no follow-up invitation for me to play.
I spent the rest of the evening strolling, and then chatted with the nice couple who run this casa particular. They have a nine year old girl, and we quizzed each other on the English and Spanish vocab.
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