HABANA IS BANANAS!

be patient, this shit is gonna take a minute to load - it's like a hundred or so pictures...

Habana is Bananas!!!

Ok, so we got to the airport in Cancun and bought our tickets, cash, like 5 minutes before the plane was supposed to leave... We took a bus out over the tarmac to our plane: A mid-80's Russian jobby. sweet.



And everyone on the plane looked like either a miami beach drug pusher, a columbian drug lord or a mule. Or maybe I'm just prejudiced...



One of the first things we see:

" The Bush Plan: to take our houses, our schools and whatever good we have constructed. Thankfully, we already live in free Cuba"



They hate that motherfucker.

Our cab ride to the hotel. Our cabbie tried to charge us 4 times the fare. Jena saved the day with her fiery latin attitude. I was glad that I didn't sacrifice her to the Mayan Gods after all.



The view from our hotel, El Centro, Habana.



We took off walking to check it out - first night was kinda sketchy, the place is like a dilapidated shell of a city. Dark corners, shady alley ways, crazy. It was nuts, but we loved it. Nothing a few mojitos wouldn't fix.











and then.... success. Havana Club mojitos. Cafe Paris in Vieja (old town). We drank about 37 of these and then met our new friends and compadres, Ali and Julio.





Ali offered us a place to stay with his grandmother in El Centro. She has registered with the state as a Casa Particulares - which are rooms to rent. We stayed there the rest of our trip.

The front door:



Our room. ...Fuckin' sweet.



The view from our room:



The view from the roof:





Our house in in the upper-ish, left-ish section of this photo. -ish.



For the next few days we just walked around Havana, Vedado, Vieja, Casablanca... just checking shit out.









the national pastime:



Jena, stage left.



It was the girl on the lefts' birthday:



Paladares La Guarida (a privately run restaurant is upstairs):



The public transit system leaves much to be desired.



We met this guy, Martín on the street, he was interested in my tattoos and was a big Yankees fan. He invited us to his house (we didn't go) and invited us to go to a baseball game that night with him, his friend Alberto and his wife Luanna. At first we were hesitant because, while most people are cool, there is a problem in Cuba with people getting hustled. Jinteras or Jinteros hustle tourists for money, drinks, goods, drugs, sex, whatever. The fleecing of the people starts at the highest levels of the government, so it really isn't that weird, socially, but it makes for calculated decision making on the fly.

Martín was a rad guy, though. So we went home, took a nap, and got up to meet him at 7:00. He paid for the cab, bought us rum and even paid for us to get into the game.

Luanna, ?, Martín and Alberto:



The baseball stadium:





No fucking touristas here, man.



but there are plenty of fights between the rival teams...



Martín has this amazingly fat belly. Amazing:



but he doesn't seem to give a shit



He's always having a good time:



And so were we.



This shit is everywhere:



Martín and Luanna's daughters' bed:



More walking around shots:



Street pizza stand. The pizzas are 25¢ and are delicious.



Most of the cuban food we ate sucked. You'd think chickens in Cuba were born fried...



Fumigating for mosquitos:



The girl was a little bummed but the grandmother thought it was funny.



Schoolkids:



Meyer Lansky's Hotel Riviera:







So Jena and I were walking through Vedado after having the first good meal of our time there when we heard music floating thorough the trees. There were all this lights spilling out into the street, coating the neighborhood in beautiful, candy coated hues.



There was a concert happening in the yard of some wealthy estate. Private, to be sure... We stood there, looking through the fence and watched while a guy sat on a stage in the yard of someone's house, playing music on a guitar, singing. The song was sad and beautiful, and when I looked to the corner, there was a little old man, standing alone, drinking a pint of Rum, crying. I walked across the street to get this shot, so you could see what I saw...



ANYWAY... domino MOTHERFUCKER!!!



and this lady wasn't loving my picture taking styles...



and there were weird rules, like "no smoking", "no lighting your girlfriend on fire" and "no holding hands in the elevator if you're a midget."



Across the street from Hotel Sevilla



cool car



old school transportation:



older school transportation:



kids everywhere...



At a submarine looking bar where we went with Ali, I danced with the cute bathroom attendant and Jena got salsa lessons from Ali.

Cute.



Jena is so cute, in fact, that I want to kill her and eat her face.



Jena and Ali - the guy behind Ali was picking up Jinteras (hookers)



Jena, Ali, Ali's son Andé, me and Julio:



Julio gets pretty drunk sometimes



And I listen to everything he says...



Because it's "important, I am telling you! Look into my eyes!"



good times, good times.



except the bathrooms. nasty.



the walk home:



Jena, a few too many cuba libre's... The stairway up to our room:



My hungover girlfriend is extra cute when she eats leftover pasta in bed...



For me, I wanted pizza. We found this place where you shout your order up to the roof and they lower your food down in a bucket.



Awesome.



walking around...



Look! Look how cute we are:



They love 2Pac in Cuba. Vatos Locos Forever!



Woman in an empty store:



The museum of the Revolution:



The Prado



Bangkok or Cuba?



Jena found a dog and is now in the process of trying to adopt her. Her name is Lili...



Anyway, she spent the better part of the night picking fleas off of Lili with a deaf rasta we met (he also likes to arm wrestle and race...)



So now Jena has a new dog, but how can you say no to this face?



ps. how hot is my girlfriend?

Next blog is our fishing trip, the last night there....

Later.

But first, how amazing is this photo?