Señor Castro and the Cuban dream...fat cigars and even fatter cars...rum, Romantico and the only way to go to Varadero...beach that is...back to the future and lost in the fifties we lived, The Real Cuban Dream!
At the customs desk while entering Cuba, via La Habana, the customs agent began with the usual barrage of questions.
"Citizenship?"
"Canadian!"
"You speak Spanish?"
"Yes!"
"Why?"
"Because I'm a photographer and I travel a lot?"
"Why do you have so many stamps in your passport?"
"Because I'm a photographer and I travel a lot!"
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm a photographer, I travel a lot?"
Her lack of hearing had caused me to answer like an automaton! Oh well, at least I didn't have to pay anything at that desk, or so that's what the sign I read said. I was in Cuba to travel around with Franz Olry, a man quickly becoming a legend in the young sport of kiteboarding, and take some of the first kiteboarding photos in Cuba. I was more than a little excited to see what Franz had checked out already. He had been in Cuba for a few days, supposedly scouting out some good locales...Like I say...Supposedly.
I picked up my luggage and cruised out to the passenger pickup where Franz and his entourage of extended family (his girlfriend is Cuban) were waiting for me. After quick greetings and introductions we headed out to the car, a 1956 funky, red, Buick-something-or-other. The symbol of American post-war opulence still surviving in one of the last truly Marxist states. The irony of it all still makes me chuckle; in a country where most people can't afford to fill up one of these cars with gas, these behemoths still live on. Some of the cars are modified to a certain degree; the one we were in was fixed to run off either gas or kerosene...Kerosene?