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HAVANA El Norte: An Ill Wind? Our Man In Havana Breakfast at the Hotel Nacional The Riviera At the British Embassy Soy Cuba Back to Diary Index |
Breakfast at the Hotel Nacional At breakfast in the enormous hotel buffet hall a tall blond woman is irate when I unawarely jump the queue at the toast-making machine. I apologise, but feel she is making rather too much of a fuss. When I search for somewhere to sit I find the only table with some space left is where she is sitting alone, so I join her. 'This is not what I expected', she says. 'Its not like Barbados', No it's not; I agree. 'I came for the sun and the beach. Where is it?' The wind, and now some icy rain, is beating on the windows of the cafeteria, sending waves rippling across the deserted swimming pool outside. I try to propose some activities unique to Havana that may interest her. The music, the architecture?nothing seems to inspire her. 'I should have stayed at home in the snow.' It turns out she is a Norwegian psychiatrist. back next |
The architecture of Havana…. |
Text © Sally Potter. All pictures © Adventure Pictures unless otherwise indicated |