Havana is gorgeous. The big buildings remind me of Paris. The narrow cobbled streets remind me of Rome
It is gorgeous. Give me crumbling beauty over modern boring anytime.
The people are all beautiful. The women all seem to have melonous breasts stuffed into lycra a size too small and the men all seem to have butts you could bounce a Peso off. At least the ones I notice.
We checked into our Casa Particular. Two rooms in Maria's house just off the main drag. Then headed out for dinner. We ordered a starter and main each and were given enough food to feed ten people. We left with most of it and found six taxi drivers hanging on the corner to give it to. They couldn't beleive their luck.
After depositing Quinn with Maria we headed to the Jazz Club for a dose of Roberto Fonseca. He playes ther on Thursdays. But this week he is touring. Bugger. When you lay eyes on Roberto you know God is a woman. When you see him move you know she was a lover when she made him.
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