Reflections on Cuba. Part 3.

We just cat shake the memories of the way ice cream cones were made on jagged, malformed, home-made moulds. How the streets of Havana were alive, bustling and full of the hustle and bustle of every day life. The vibrant music floating and twisting from doorways and windows, breathing life into the surrounding streets.

The way the early morning mist clung to the hillsides in Viñales.

The chaos and clatter of a hand-made rural fairground.

Flan in a can, however. That is probably worth returning for.

So we’ll see. For now, there is still a lot to experience on our journey south. But maybe one day in the future, the call to return to Cuba will become an irresistible pull that we cannot deny. Perhaps we’ll go back and fall in love with this country. Or perhaps we’ll go back and remember why we left in the first place.

With a bit of luck, Ben’s good sense will prevail and we’ll see the rest of the world first…

So long Cuba, you strange, perplexing island nation.