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Havana, Cuba
Cruising the chain of Caribbean islands northwards has us entering a new country every few days, or so it seems. Grenada, St Vincent, St Lucia, Martinique, Dominica, Guadaloupe, Antigua, St Maarten, the Virgin Islands, Puerto Rico, and the Dominican Republic are all interesting places in their own right. Particularly memorable for us is the Grenadian island of Cariacou, Nelson's dockyard in Antigua, and the wealth of lovely anchorages in the British Virgin Islands which we move between, charter boat style, with our friend Andreas visiting from Germany.
The biggest highlight of the Caribbean however is our stopover in Cuba. We check into the country at Puerto Blanco, a small harbour on the eastern end, then coastal hop along to Havana. Our timing is perfect, I awake to a glorious sunrise on the morning of my 33rd birthday, with Havana's skyline taking shape on the horizon. Exploring the city was an assault to our senses, the vehicles and buildings a blend of well preserved nostalgia and festering decay, the streets peopled with provocatively dressed, youthful beauties, all moving to the rhythm of an unmistakably Cuban beat. The guilelessness of the officials who had no qualms about asking us for personal bribes grated against the outward promotion of egalitarianism, but it all seemed to be summed up by our taxi drivers comment that communism was "..the most perfect system in the world, but of course it doesn't work.."
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