Painters and Smugglers

The Turtle’s last two days in Havana were fairly uneventful, until the last moments before their departure. But more about that later. 

If you ever get the chance to visit Havana, avoid the hop-on, hop-off bus tour of the city.  It must be the world’s most boring bus tour – the Turtles saw the sea front (which was beautiful), a couple of old buildings, two statues of some revolutionaries, a huge cemetery and… um…  no, that’s all.  It took three hours and there was no air conditioning on the bus.  Ugghhh!!!  It is amazing how tiring something can be that requires absolutely no energy or brain power.  By the time the Turtles arrived back at the hotel they were exhausted and all three of them were in bed just as the sun was setting.  Music started up, but to our relief it was not the ear stabbing sounds of karaoke but rather the sweet, sultry salsa tones of Cuban music.  A wonderful way to drift off to sleep. 

Myrtle has to admit that, by the second breakfast she felt a little nauseous at the thought of eating, or drinking, any of the food.  The milk was gross (not that she is a big fan of milk at the best of times), the butter was rancid and the coffee was, well, not nice.  It didn’t seem to deter Tony or Tiny so it may have been a temporary glitch in Myrtle’s taste buds.

They proceeded to walk through Havana Vieja (the old city) and came across the beautiful Plaza Vieja, surrounded by pretty cathedrals and museums.  All of them were either renovated or in the process of renovation and were really pretty.

As the Turtles turned the corner, they saw a small park where about 20 children, just older than Tiny, were sitting in groups on a concrete slab, painting and drawing.  Tiny sped through the gate and promptly joined a group of kids, staring at them until they relented and shared their supplies with her.  Tony saw a person who appeared to be handing out paint and paper and asked if Tiny could join in the fun.  He agreed and Tony offered to pay the fee.  There was no fee and this gentleman apparently brings out paints, crayons and paper, every Saturday morning and the kids of the city are welcome to join, free of charge (they had their parents with them, in case you had any evil thoughts).  Tiny had so much fun and a little five year old girl took control and made sure Tiny’s paint stayed on the paper and called us when Tiny painted her own leg… (she may not be artistically gifted but we love her anyway!).

The Turtles came across The Chocolate Museum and no, it wasn’t a building filled with showcases containing 16^th century mould-ridden chocolate.  It was a chocolate café serving real hot chocolate and freshly prepared chocolates.  Really good (but the reason for the name still eludes the Turtles).

The day ended with the Turtles having lunch at Plaza Vieja where the live band serenaded Tiny.  She did what she always does when embarrassed – stared them down.  The Turtles returned to the hotel with a “Bici Taxi” – two seats attached to a bicycle. 

The Turtles’ time in Havana was almost spoiled by the Incident at the airport…  Tiny was asleep in her pram and the Turtles waited patiently in line to check in.  Myrtle spotted a young man, two places ahead of them in the queue, who was approached by two huge men.  They asked him where he was from (Bahamas), introduced themselves and after a lengthy chit-chat asked him if he would take some of their cigars through customs for them.  He agreed and they loaded some of the cigars into his bags. 

Now, Myrtle is totally opposed to any kind of tax evasion (not tax avoidance, there is a difference…), cheating, stealing and murder.  However, she was not going to get involved in other people’s business as she was hot, tired and generally in a terrible mood.  So when the two burly men and their two friends proceeded to jump the queue, Myrtle wasn’t happy.  “I don’t understand how this queue works!” she said, a little too loudly.  “What?” said Giant Number One.  “I said, I don’t understand why you are ahead of us when we were here before you!” she replied, this time a little louder.  Giant Number Two turned around and fixed his gaze on Myrtle.  “We are standing with our friend, and besides, what are you going to do about it?”  Myrtle stopped herself, just in time, from saying: “No, that is not your friend, that is your mule doing your dirty work”.  Instead, Tony got involved in the fight: “He is not your friend and we were here before you!”  The four giants were looking at the Turtles with disbelief.  How could it be possible that these two midgets were confronting them, the kings of the smuggling world?  “Mind your own business!”, Giant Number Two boomed. To which Tony retorted: “When you cut in ahead of me, it IS my business!”  Myrtle was now worried that Tony would come out of his corner swinging (Myrtle’s knight in shining armour, defending her honour!)  so she quickly reverted to Afrikaans: “Man, kom ons los dit net, ons gaan nie hierdie geveg wen nie” (Husband, let’s just let it go, we aren’t going to win this fight).  Then she turned to the giants (as her middle name is Last-Word) and said to Tony: “Obviously some people have manners and others don’t.”  They tried to further provoke the Turtles but the Turtles ignored them while loudly discussing them, in Afrikaans.

Later the Turtles saw Giant Number Two greet a Cuban official and they were glad they didn’t take it further as they may have landed themselves in hot water.  Cuban jails are probably not as exotic as they sound…

 Myrtle had vengeful thoughts all the way back to the Bahamas and considered reporting them to the Bahamian Customs officials (she spotted Giant Number Three recruiting other fellow-Bahamians to smuggle their cigars into the country) but it appeared that they may have had friends in high places…

Myrtle can blame PMS for this little incident, but nobody else should even think about doing the same!