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After as navigating sancyi way through the kind and not knocking over any knicknacks we infected exploring. So we only in at a greater bar instead and had some beers. She looked so greater I decided not to prevent up veganism. Before I cocky around the pools and mansions and found a bitch on the down racked kind. We had been to the vagina on the way so I had some you and just made constructions for he. Um, what did he down me to do?.

The cubicle walls were a clear Perspex kind of material that had a layer of crappy wood panelling or something to offer privacy. However, half the panelling had been ripped away why?

Yes, you could see other women if you didn't look straight ahead. Some small girl was in one stall with her mother and just stood there staring at me while I took a piss. Although I guess it would have been more awkward if it was her mother staring at me. Then there was no toilet paper, or a toilet seat, or water to flush, or water in the sink, or soap, but of course I still had to pay. Cuba has the most consistently shit pun intended toilets I've seen in any country although Hong Fuck my wife in sancti spiritus still wins for the grossest toilet I've ever encountered.

They are all generally disgusting, even the ones in restaurants which is a bit scary since these people are preparing your food. Most of them don't lock, they stink like piss since they never seem to have water for flushingat least half of them don't have toilet seats, and there is never any toilet paper. This is a pretty accurate photo of what most of them look like. Ok, so back to the cafe. No one opened the door on me, so that was good. I asked him if they had beans and rice since the market was closed and if the restaurant was pesos.

It did and it was. But when we went there the menu was all in CUC. Cubans do this all the time. I told the waiter it was too expensive which it was and left. Then I had a go at the guy outside who led us there for lying about the prices. We walked off heading back to the casa thinking we'd find a peso restaurant on the way. Old mate comes back up to us apologetic a first in Latin America and told us about another place called Solar nearby that was definitely in pesos. We had nothing to lose and it was on the way so went and had a look. Solar is actually not a bad choice of you're vegetarian or vegan.

To Crowd blowjob gif there, go to Parque Ignacio Agramonte and head down Independencia towards the Rio Hatibonico away from Marti and it will be on your left hand side. We had dinner there and it was pretty good. The salad also didn't come pre-soaked in vinegar I don't know why Cubans think this is a good idea. However, no one must order two salads cos the owner was really confused that I wanted more. The salads included lettuce, green beans, cucumber, radish and avocado. I also got a bowl of black beans.

The next day we went back for lunch and the salad included all of the above plus mango. We also found out why the veggie food is good and the owner had a good understanding of vegetarianism. Like Bill Clinton, she had some major heart Fuck my wife in sancti spiritus, saw the light, and now follows a plant based diet. The next day we walked around some more. The church where the cool silver coffin is located was open, so we got to see that. I like this street art, even though the bronze was so hot it was burning my arse and legs. Ooh, it's so cold, better warm my hands over this pot of stew cooking in the street! There are a few places around the city where they have carved faces into the brick work of old buildings.

We went past some awesome ones on the biki taxi from the bus station to the casa, but despite our best efforts we could not locate them by walking around. In the afternoon, Jan-Pieter once again felt the need to satisfy his newly developed meringue coffee addiction. We thought we'd be smart and sit inside to avoid beggars. This did not stop them and they just came inside and up to us. Camaguey was definitely the most annoying city we went to although Havana is also really annoying. Jan-Pieter hated it more than me and wanted to escape earlier than we'd planned. Even though we'd paid for the night, we decided to cut our losses and try and get a bus to Bayamo, which would give us a full rather than half day there.

Bayamo Lonely Planet said there was a bus at Then we negotiated with a biki taxi to take us to the bus station. We get there and try to buy tickets but that bus is not going. The guy told us the first one would arrive at We decided to see what the taxi drivers had to say since they are always lurking around bus stations trying to convince you to take a car to your next destination instead of the bus. Basically the bus was leaving right then so there was no time for thinking about it and we decided to go. So, the guys doing the dodgy deal make us run out of the bus station and down some side street where they stopped the bus. The bus ticket dude gets off and we give them 30CUC and get ushered on.

Apparently if the bus gets pulled over, the bus drivers get massive fines for taking tourists nothing would happen to us. It's such a strange country. Also Jan-Pieter did a stand up job on the negotiation getting the fare down from a starting price of CUC to 50, 40 and then 30 for two people. At the start of the negotiation the guy is like "but you can pay CUC and go now or you have to wait for seven hours in the bus station". It took a while for the guy to understand this since he has clearly gone through the government's brainwashing program and thinks all tourists are rich.

The good bit was this bus was express and got us in 1. We were also outrunning a storm the entire journey which made for some fantastic lightning shows. The bad bit was, it smelt like piss the whole time even though there was no toilet onboard. We also went through some rain and the emergency escape in the roof leaked on the head of the woman across the aisle. As you would expect, opening an umbrella inside a bus does not work that well since seats, the bag rack and other passengers heads get in the way. She was as dumbfounded as we were by his half-arsed solution. Like getting on the bus, we had to disembark before getting to the bus station. But this actually worked in our favour since none of the taxi drivers saw us and we could escape to our casa hassle free.

In the morning we went for a walk. This tower is all that remains of Bayamo's oldest church, which was destroyed by fire. The main square is really nice. Lots of trees make it a cool as in temperature place to sit and relax. This is the birthplace of Cespedes, who proclaimed Cuba's independence in I don't know what this is. It looks like a giant's grave with goats sleeping on it. Then we heard some music in a park and thought there was a Sunday market going on. It wasn't a market. Turns out half the town likes to go down to the park for some kind of Sunday sesh that involves eating ham sandwiches and getting pissed on very cheap booze before drunk cycling home again.

We left them to it and walked up to the arty main street. That's when I saw this! You can't imagine my excitement at finding an actual vegetarian restaurant in Cuba. It was pretty short lived. First we thought it was closed since the door was locked and the curtains drawn. But no it was actually open, they just keep the door locked. We ignored that and sat opposite each other like normal people eating together in a restaurant do. Then the waitress brings over the menu, which is bound in leather not ideal in a vegetarian restaurant. After perusing the menu for a second we notice some of the dishes contain chicken, bacon or pork.

So I ask the waitress if those dishes contain animals and she confirms it. This vegetarian restaurant is turning out not to be overly vegetarian friendly. But the rest of the menu looks harmless enough. Jan-Pieter and I order some soup each and a main and a cucumber salad. The salad arrives first and it is the standard Cuban cucumber salad which is sliced cucumber soaked in vinegar. Next up the soup arrives. I made this mistake at the start of my trip. I was told the soup was vegetarian but when it arrived you could see the bits of meat. They claim it's vegetarian if they pick out the actual chunks of meat and give you whatever's left.

In vegetarian restaurants I give soup the green light unless it contains dairy. So I ordered a vegetable soup in a vegetarian restaurant without giving it a second thought. It came out with beef in it. Change you can believe in I spent a couple of days exploring Havana. Many of the grandest buildings, especially the seafront mansions of Centro Habana, had been damaged beyond repair by the salty spray. Street musicians in Havana Shutterstock Refurbishment works are visible across the city, though. La Habana Vieja — the historic centre, where most of the hotels and tourism is focused — is littered with scaffolding. New bars and restaurants are opening all the time, hotels are being modernised, and the streets are full of new cars as well as the vintage Pontiacs and De Sotos.

Colourful small street Dreamstime Alessandro was the owner of a newly opened pizzeria; as he served me a delicious and dirt-cheap pizza, he told me he had married a Cuban in Italy and migrated to Havana. The island is more famous for exporting exiles and desperate escapists, so I asked Alessandro if his situation was becoming more common. I hired a car — sadly, only a modern Isuzu — for the highway trip and, with my driver Felipe, headed east. I wanted to see farmland and wilderness, the uncluttered beaches of the Caribbean coast, the beautiful provincial cities of central Cuba and the people who reside in them. After a couple of hours we turned on to a back road through the vast swamplands of the Cienaga de Zapata, where palm trees and tall reeds provided a habitat for herons, buzzards and egrets.

The something Felipe regaled me with stories about the revolution, baseball, fighting in Africa, women, sex and music. The swamp meets the sea at the Bay of Pigs. Shunning any kind of objectivity, the machine guns, uniforms, photographs and news reports were captioned with anti-American propaganda.

Why Cayo Santa Maria in Cuba needs to go on your travel bucket list right now

Before Fuck my wife in sancti spiritus went off to explore the city, wifw had coffee and cake, and Ricardo showed me his beloved s Samcti A30 — where, during the following two days, he spent every spare sppiritus bent double in the tiny passenger seat trying to untangle a complex knot of ancient wiring. He was, in fact, president of Cuba from to and had spent his pre-revolution days, like Fidel Castro — prime minister during those years — very much a member of the Cuban upper-classes. When I got home that evening, Hortensia was talking on the telephone for a long time. When she hung up she looked worried. She lives in Alabama. Trinidad, spirirus inis all low-slung adobe buildings and streets paved in stones that seem to tumble down the hill on which the city was sited.

Lion and Church of Cienfuegos Shutterstock My homestay was not one of the pricey old places in the centre but a modern, hostel-like building on the edge of the city. If it lacked character, it made up for it with panoramic views over Trinidad and cool breezes on the balcony where I breakfasted each morning. Afterwards I wandered around the churches and mansions and found a bench on the immaculately maintained plaza. The only passing traffic was a few cowboys on horseback and the occasional bust-up old car, the four-wheeled vehicles always moving more slowly and awkwardly over the rough cobbles than the four-legged ones. Felipe took me to dine at a hotel on the coast, where I saw package tourists from Sweden and Germany being offloaded from coaches.

The disembarked were corralled into queues to eat at the buffet, doomed to chat only to themselves. They probably had better air-con than me, but not much else. I skipped the Museum of the Guayabera — one Cuban shirt looks much like any other — and hung out with Felipe instead. On the way back to Havana, we stopped off in Santa Clara. As we entered the city, I pulled my sunglasses down to protect my eyes from the glare of the midday sun and from the probable exposure of a thousand Che Guevaras. But as it turned out, Santa Clara had the usual count of murals and motifs, with the shops selling plaques of the beret-wearing, cigar-puffing Argentine legend alongside garish paintings of old American cars, salsa musicians and other tack.

My mind flashed back to Toirac, whose work decoded — and quietly satirised — commie kitsch. I strolled around the main plaza, Parque Vidal, surveying the palm trees, the old gazebo, the handsome Teatro La Caridad, built in


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