CUBA:

As we get off the boat that has brought us to these warm palm-kissed shores, we can hear the wonderful Latin rhythms of the Carribean drifting over the pastel faded buildings that had seen better days. After walking through the old colourful streets, we make our way to the beach where we find a thatched chiringuito. We are served mojitios & empanadillas, while we feel the guava scented breeze caressing our cheeks, the same air that long ago slaves cursed on arriving to these shores, & still we can hear those ominous chains rattling on the shameful trade- winds that swirl around us. As night embraces dusk & becomes the territory of lovers, voodoo, sanatorias & dancers of Habaneras, we sway with Afro Spanish tunes. we howl with joy at the magical moon, smoke Havanan cigars rolled upon the thighs of nubile dusky maidens, & we are lost. Our night swirls & chants in heat, in colour, in hot Cuban beat, a locura that surely will never end, & we wonder if we will ever get out of this hurdy-gurdy vortex, but before we know it, the music gets softer the skirts stop flying, the drinks stop flowing, the sun appears on the horizon, red & taunting, & daylight hits us between the eyes. A wise old lady dressed in the rainbow, appears with steaming hot mugs of very black, very sweet tea, into which she pours a great dollop of very black Cuban rum. "This will chase the demons from inside your head", she tells us, & tea has never tasted so good.