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With only 2 weeks in Cuba we have had to take a view on how far we are prepared to travel in this period so the furthest we've settled on is Camaguey. We travelled there on the Viazul bus which took 8 hours in total. It was a really comfortable bus but Cubans appear to like things very loud and this bus was no exception. The first film we were subjected to, at top volume, lasted approximately 5 minutes until it became apparent that it was a very unsavoury film about sexual depravity which the driver quickly switched off only to replace with an equally disturbing violent film. I decided to put on my iPod instead (at top volume of course!).
As I watched the Cuban countryside go by it occurred to me that the houses remind me of Vietnam whilst the scenery of Laos. Horses and horse and cart appear to be a staple outside of Havana which I guess is the next best thing to a car.
Our casa in Camaguey had been organised by Lisette in Havana so on arrival at the bus station there was a taxi waiting for us with its driver holding up a sign for ' ANNZ JACKYE'. We jumped into our dilapidated blue lada taxi whilst our friendly driver informed us that he had 'muchos amigos' and proceeded to wave and peep at everyone en route. Our new hosts are not quite as cheery - it is a husband, wife and 2 surly daughter operation. We were met by 'Mislady' the casa agent who, speaking a little English, showed us to our room and explained our location. The casa is fairly impressive - it's located on the first floor and has a number of high ceilinged rooms all set back off a long corridor which is opened to the outside by big shutters.
We stayed in Camaguey over the Easter weekend so on the Sunday, as Jackie is a catholic, we went to the local church for mass. At first I was surprised that it wasn't busy given the significance of the service but it became apparent that as all the doors are open at all times there is very much a drop in/drop out approach. By the time the service got underway proper all the pews were full though people were pretty much coming and going all the way through! We both thought that the music had a very karaoke feel about it - at one point I could have sworn they were about to sing the okey-kokey!
The rest of the day was spent wandering through the streets of Camaguey with its wonderful coloured houses. Per the Lonely Planet Camaguey has a 'peculiar labyrinth street pattern designed to confuse pillaging invaders' (in particular Henry Morgan - those pesky welsh Morgan's!) but I have to say we didn't think it was that difficult.
One thing we've both noticed is that the Cubans love a bit of cake and particularly if it has the most gaudy icing on it imaginable. We saw many such cakes being carried around the streets on Easter Sunday.
In the afternoon we were sitting having a drink in a cafe bar when Jackie got talking to a local bicycle taxi driver over a Manchester united game. They then spent some time swapping English for Spanish until we heard the sound of people singing in the distance which was getting closer and closer - it was the Easter procession! So we joined the back of the procession to hear yet another mass. Jackie and I were laughing as we felt like we were part of a musical (perhaps Sister Act) as one minute we were sombrely listening to the mass whilst the next we were all singing and clapping along with a priest playing a keyboard wearing a white baseball cap!
Most of the houses open straight onto the pavement and a national past time appears to be sitting at your front door watching the world go by which is great as it also gives us an opportunity to nosy inside their houses.
The most alarming thing to happen to us in Camaguey was in the confines of our own casa. On the Monday morning the lady of the house and her daughters had obviously gone to work and school respectively leaving the husband in charge of our breakfast. Now this man has been fully clothed on every occasion we've seen him up to that point but on this morning, oh yes, this not so slim man decided to serve us breakfast in his underpants - well they were more like micro lycra swimming trunks. I didn't know where to look and had to do my utmost to stifle my giggles. What the hell was this man thinking and more to the point what would his wife and daughters think if they knew. I've seen men in underpants before, I mean open any magazine and you get an eyeful of the toned torso of Mr Beckham in his Armani's, but really what was going on with this man and his pants bordered on the obscene!
A much more pleasant encounter than pant man happened with statue man. Camaguey has a square where a local sculptor has produced some life size bronze statues of local people doing everyday things. One piece shows 3 women chatting, another a man pushing a cart and another a man sitting on a bench reading a newspaper (a bit of a joke given that the suppression of the press means that there is only one daily newspaper consisting of about 8 pages of political diatribe). Jackie wanted to use her gorilla pod so she'd attached it to a lamppost to take a photo of us when out of nowhere appeared an old man, the muse for the original statue (no mistake they were identical) so I had a photo taken with him and the statue - at a price of course!
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