Dave & Fe went travelling......

.....our final post.

Two people with like minded visions of what a year off travelling would entail. It took a while to adjust and realise we were on a journey of a lifetime. Fe, strong and full of thoughts. An over thinker at times you could say. Dave, all heart and full of emotions. Like stabilizers and bikes, put them together and things turn out pretty well balanced. We're pretty happy to have pulled it off, successfully, we think, and have so enjoyed every second of it. It wasn't easy at times but we've found that travel is just the most wonderful thing.

We've probably blogged and photographed two thirds of our experiences, the rest is really just too unexplainable to put into words or pictures. But these special memories will stay with us forever. Although once home no doubt all our memories will march off, as if soldiers in a Disney film, to a dusty attic somewhere deep in our brains where they will try to find a little space for themselves to sit amid all the other accumulated clutter of almost 4 decades.

We have crossed time zones and tropic lines, encountered a myriad of cultures and customs. Witnessed happiness in poverty and chaos in paradise. Photographed breathtaking landscapes and scenery that some have to be seen to be believed. There have been times of excitement, frustration, hope and sometimes disappointment. The latter is something you need to get control of and accept pretty swiftly, never dwelling or stewing on what may have been as most disappointments are normally pretty small when viewed in the bigger picture.  We've lost photos, weight, possessions and passports. Thankfully the important possessions and passports were, unbelievably, retrieved within a day or so of loss. We've managed to dodge natural disasters from cyclones to tsunamis to blistering heat to flooding and earthquakes. Witnessed depressing amounts of poverty, with some lacking the most basics of life. Struggled with restricted communist regimes and experienced huge humbling moments. We've had new food, slow food, and less food. Learnt new skills, met some really great people, some that are now known as friends. We have been bowled over by the hospitality shown in many parts of the world. In many places where we certainly hadn't expected it. We've learnt lessons on how to be flexible, resourceful, to think laterally and, if an opportunity arises, to take it. As it might not be there when you return later.

It's hard to put into words just how much we have loved the past 11 odd months. What we've loved the most though is the sense of being together, alone, insignificant, totally unknown and unstoppably free. Arriving into countries not directly from your own, being beholden to no one and not being bound by any duties or anyones expectations. We have been simply free to roam, look and taste what the world has had to offer, all the while keeping things as simple as. Well why wouldn't ya?

But alias this trip is over. That's the trouble with trips, they end. The upsides though, as there's always up side to everything, no more airport routines, the rigmarole of disembarkation, bag collection customs/immigration questions. British style queuing, different types of water. Unknown pillows, not enough pillows, no pillows. Unfamiliar and uncomfortable beds. Pockets and pockets of small coins that seem to be worthless. No more carrying all of our valuables everywhere. Travelling the world, sounds a tough gig hey!

We can only but apologise for the 31,700 horrendous air miles travelled but we did also get in over 10,000 miles of overland travel via bus, rail, car and bike.  This  year that has given us the best geography, social and history lesson ever!

Our final advice to all: When on the road always start the day if possible with a long black. Never travel on buses where you can open its windows for more than one hour. Never store stuff in the back of seat pockets, as it will always get left behind. Blog! As it helps the woes of folks back home.

If you've been thinking of taking a break and you're at a point where you think your life will roughly accommodate one, physically and financially, then our advice is just do it.  There isn't any point in waiting for the 'right time' as this time may never come.

Keep travelling, as from our experiences we are going to do just that. To achieve this we are going to try and take each available chance to do so. Whenever the chance comes we will grab it with both hands and get out there and travel.

Favourite country: a tough question, New Zealand, everyone at some point in their lives need to experience the true pure beauty of this wonderful country and it extremely likable natives that reside within it.
Least favourite country: Dubai (sorry Kate). Despite the phenomenal growth and the most amazing feats of building engineering it just felt far too suppressive and segregated.

Travel Stats: days travelling 346, airports visited 22, oceans swam in 9, imodium moments 1 (yes Dave), hospital visits 2 (yes Fe).

And of course a final miss/won't miss.

Miss:
D. The freeeeedom to roam, the people of the world, hair! (I'm sure I went away with more than I'm returning with), just shooting the breeze, constant time to chat, no work - obviously! Having time to think, reading.
F. Exploring new places, not working, being with Dave 247, seeing how other people reside and carry-on, meeting new people, having no set routine.

Won't miss:
D. Tourist rackets, rucksacks, world-wide banking it doesn't exist (it's a total fallacy), on-the-move photo storage, having a plethora of currency, dodgy beds, wildlife that can kill you, worrying for two!
F. Well used pillows, flying, wearing the same clothes, constantly smearing either sun lotion or bug cream on my skin, having curly hair every day, penny pinching, drinking water from plastic bottles, mozzies, dogs barking through the wee small hours,

Well that's more than enough from us two, for now at least. Having a year off can be tough you know. It's now time to regroup, relax and kick back for a while.  We now must stop photgraphing and diarising our lives! 
 

What next?  Well with the house sorted for another year we have time to think a little. Hopefully catch a bit of another crazy British summer, ahhhhhh.  Catch up with family and friends.  Cheese!  Real ale, the rest of the world doesn't really understand "real ale".  The odd bit of road running. The odd bit of cycling. Festivals. Street parties. Cider! (after, not before cycling). Test match special, oh have we missed the.  All wonderfully, beautifully British.

.....the world is a book though, those who chose not travel only read one page.

Now what about this slideshow, hey, come on!

D&F, we're out of here.
x.

Acknowlgements

In Hollywood oscar style we would like to thank the following (in no particular order, no cameras):

•  Letting agents for taking our money and not giving much in return for the management of stuff we left back home. To Ernest for so kindly paying our mortgage whilst we were having the time of our lives.
• Brother Mike for removals in style.
• For Briggy for turning up with coffee mid-removals, kettle no where to be seen. The timing was perfect. You just can't buy timing
• Milo for the loan of the 'Subie'! I must pay you for those extra insurance costs.
• Mum and Dad Summers for long Skype calls. Given the length of our calls its no wonder Skype has had to sell out to Microsoft!
• Annette for sorting our blog slideshow with drop downs, long story, issues. We will never forget that joyous night in Clevedon, Somerset.
• Dean & Lou for being the best hosts ever. A time spent with you on your small island we will never forget.
• OG for warm longboard style waves. For the great sausage rolls and film night at number 19
• Thanks to Christine and her family for a free house in Balmain over Christmas and NY. An amazing act of generosity.
• To Lou Chip for sorting the free house. as without it we could have never stayed in Australia as long as we did!
• To the Tazzie lot who kept us laughing and going on the Routeburn Crossing.
• Gilly & Charlie for being instant new Bristol buds by just asking for a photo to be taken half way in on the Tongariro crossing. Quite possibly the only two that may be willing to look through all of our photos (come on you did promise!)
• Kelly & Ryan for showing us the sights of hectic Suva. Drinks at the calming yacht club are a forever on going memory.
• Ben Swanson, a ultra chilled and the honest Cornishman residing in Coolingatta, for returning our seemingly lost itouch. Ben we salute you.
• Dutch Raymond for great company and conversion and keeping us young whilst hopping the Yasawa Islands, Fiji.
• To Matthais & Rebeka for the possibility of  first ever "sushi" in Stuttgart
• Dutch Richard & Carolina for going "dutch" on a waterproof camera and easing our great barrier nerves.
• Deutsche Fredeieka for just being so lovely and smiley.
• Our fixers Tushar and Sanjit for all the help and guidance through Sri Lanka's dodgy pot holed, elephant laden roads. Tushar we do hope your wedding went to plan ?
• To the "Colonel"  for cricket banter and constant on going humour. Sorry it has rained so much at the recent tests!
• The Butler gang in Dunedin, this includes Toby & Magic, for keeping us safe on the wonderful Otago peninsula.
• The Mullers, ahhh the Mullers. For the introduction to hands-on, "just get in there you two", dairy farming and insight to real kiwi living. We will never forget our time with you way out west. Hopefully some day we will make it back to pick up where we left off.
• Vaughan for an easy going, but unbelievably hot, round of golf in Viet'nam. Good luck with future competitions and the management of Shades Apartments, Mui Ne.
• Mum Horrex for putting us up (yet again). You leap over Ernest when it comes to helping us, as again without your help, in many many ways, this trip would have never ever been possible.
• To Bernie & John for the spare room that easily slept 3! For the barefoot bowls lesson, Brisbane style.
• Danish Eva for dealing with Fe's massive amount of very red blood, know it sounds daft but it was sooo red, just typing this is making us feel wobbly at the knees, whilst walking in the Rockies. And to Niels for kind words of encouragement and supervision of the extremely efficient mountain rescue.
• To the Fijian villagers who stayed ultra calm and saved of from our tsunami fears.
• Sri lankan Milton, at the Young Men's Buddhist Association for the best haircut I have ever had. Now we are back I promise to print and put the pictures in the post!
• Rachel and David from Denver, a very short but truly memorable meet. Though time was short great conversion at the Pike Brewery. Give us a shout if you ever cross the pond!
• To all the Jon's on the Northshore, Ohau for making Fe's birthday great. Dads 65th birthday card did finally turn up!
• To Queens Canoes beach at Waikiki for constant, perfect shaped, longboard waves. These days touched us way beyond words or belief. Days again that we will never forget.
• Brian at our Seattle hostel for being so nice it made us homesick. Honestly he really did!
• To Adrian and Natalia at Hostel Regina DF, the worlds greatest hostel, for making us feel home from home some 5000 odd miles away from home.
• To Pepe, Gerson and Bento for showing us the real Mexico.
• To lovely Lilly and family at Casa Lilly, Vedado, Ciudad Habana. Cuba, for all the hospitality and fascinating conversion. Hope we didn't ask to many questions!
• And finally to Rob Osman. A new dad some 12 days prior but still picked us up from Heathrow. We always knew it was going to be a big moment for us but somehow seeing your smiley face there just helped us through. Great laughs and conversion which made the M4 to Bristol seem a very short journey.

We really do hope we haven´t forgotten anyone who helped make our trip so special.

 

Right, whose ready for the obligatory post-trip slideshow ? We'd better make a start as we have just over 25 thousand pictures to get through!

MC swan song

So here we are, out of Cuba and back into Mexico city, for a forth time! Which on reflection still feels us with mucho emotion!

Finally today we made it to the historic Chapultepec Hill. A high point that's located within a lovely city based park which really is as nice as the name sounds. It's one of the worlds biggest city parks spanning a whopping 543 acres. Sat proudly at the very top of the hill Castillo de Chapultepec.(Chapultepec Castle). Now the National Museum of History.  The castle that has the finest tiled balcony that we've ever been privileged to stand on. Which gave views across Mexico city and beyond.

Today the skies were pretty clear for DF, so to the Torre Latinoamericana tower for us to take in one final scoop of this great city. As most chilangos say if its every clear its really worth a look. Taking 8 years to build the Latin American Tower, with its 44 floors, was for many years the highest building of the city. While it was being built, many people felt that a tower of that height would not be able to withstand Mexico City's frequent earthquakes, however this was put to the test in 1957 and again in 1985, and the building suffered no damage in either major quake.

Stood out on the observation deck it wouldn't be a place we'd be happy standing in a earthquake situation! We head for coffee at reduced altitudes. All this prior to our longest and biggest flight yet, in so many ways, the flight back to London Heathrow. A journey that made us as nervous as a badger on a ring road. Its crazy to think we had more nerves returning to a place we know well than heading out into the unknown world with nothing more than just a backpack.

Goodbye and good luck Cuba

Handing over our final convertible pesos to the mucho asleepo staff of the Bureau de Change. The staff that were awake sat peering through thick plate glass, cigar smoke the only real thing flowing through these secure money slot counters. Come to think of it most of the airport's staff that were not smoking where mainly asleep. Most flaked right out on counters, chairs and anything else that could double up as make-shift beds, all seemed pretty at ease as if this was the norm when working the graveyard shift. We felt almost guilty in edging up to the counter to buy anything. We did manage to pick up a local Cuban newspaper to help pass the wee small hours, it was only a mere 6 days out of date! Castro dominating the front page where images of him proudly shaking hands with yet another Chinese diplomat. We headed for our penultimate departure lounge.

Cuba has given us yet another great experience on our road trip. A country that we've wanted to visit for a while now and if hasn't disappointed. However much you read up on this country nothing really prepares you for the first sights as you stray into the backstreets from the so called revamped sections of the city. Its then you're instantly mesmerized by the Caribbean charm of a place trapped in time. Then and only then you come to realise just how different life within Cuba really is. Feeling different to anywhere else we've visited in the modern world. As it's just not suppressed through staunch communists rules, it's also being restricted by the choices it made throughout its chequered past which has been followed up by years of powerful single party leadership. A leader that is viewed as a very intelligent but staunch independent thinker. Independence for this rainbow shaped island has certainly come at a price. Resulting though in a truly fascinating place to visit as a tourist. Even on queuing up at the departure tax payment booth you can't help but feel very fortunate that our nationality gives us the right to roam without really any question at all.  The freedom to visit most places of choice at almost the drop of hat or the click of a mouse. A humbling experience given recent conversations.

On one hand you can see why people call it an "untouched gem". A place that's known as "a place to visit now before things change". But that's only from a visitors point of view. As if and when you get the chance to speak with the Cubans you just cant help but become full of sadness and frustration on how the place you've chose to visit actually carries on. Yes many Cubans are happy with the way things have panned out but as new generations grow more and more frustrations build. Quite simply many are finding more and more ways the leave Cuba through channels of studies and working visas and many now are vowing never to return.  Thoughts on Cuba changing sometime soon, we just can't see it as nothing here moves quick enough for anyone to really notice change and given the present government, though its said Raul is no Fidel when it comes to sheer intelligence and single mindedness, but really whilst the Castros are still over most if not all things it's going to be more than likely a same - same type situation.

Miss

D. Everything old, oddly cigars, talking all things Cuban with Lilly's caring and helpful family, the Syrians!, rum, the much floatable Caribbean sea
 F. Mojitos, collectivo cars, salsa dancing

Won't miss

D. Emotional sad tales of rationing of very basic produce, staunch communist views, Lada taxis,
F. Humidity, far too many fantastic old buildings being left to rot, sultry Caribbean charm

Vacation in Varadero

Our days in Havana had been great and a steep learning curve with regards to how a suppressed communist country operates. We were happy that we had experienced first hand by staying with with real deal Cubans. Maybe for not as long as we would have liked but time now is of a premium so it was time to escape from switched on traveller and head to tourist HQ. A place where we could totally switch off and in doing so act as a full stop to our "road trippin" odyssey.

It felt pretty tough to actually believe that the end was near. So guide books closed, currency converter off, phrase books to one side it was time to knock the brain into neutral as we dived head first into our first Caribbean resort and first ever "all inclusive" experience.

After many stops, manyana, manyana, in just under 3 hours our bus pulled into Varadero. A spear shaped section of land stuck in the north coast of the island famed for it's crystal clear sea and beautiful clean beaches lined with 5 star Spanish chain - Cuban run hotels.

Leaving Havana downtown we hit a coast line that inst too easy on the eye. Scattered with used and dis-used oil well frames dominating the land with pumps nodding back and forth in the search for that liquid gold. Then the towering power station chimney comes into view, below a network of sprawling pipework that all run back to those nodding oil wells. Then its the turn of the gas holding tanks and the tanker ship style terminal port to hog the sea front. Well in a country that's built on independence these sorts of sites had to be somewhere.

As we entered through an archway that doubles as a toll booth, we find ourselves transported onto a peninsula and area of all things all- inclusive, a haven of secure accommodation, a place where everything is done for you. One side beach and hotels and the otherside, the wilderness, no mans lands! A space that gave the image of simply no reason to attempt a venture. Just random piles of earth marks the spot of a possible beginnings of the next swanky Spanish funded developments.

Our digs looked good on the eye, the most non imposing white blob just sat there next to the Caribbean, thankfully she was more wide than tall. With 8 restaurants, equal number of bars, 5 pools, a SPA, a gym, beauty salon, tennis courts and paddle courts, whatever they are. And finally a ice cream "saloon". On initial thoughts it seemed we were going to have to synchronise watches, plot out some coordinates and keep an eye on the compass to navigate our way around this one! The hotel map looked like we were staying within a shopping mall!

The first few characters we were confronted with were the main reason why independent travel is now our preferred choice of travel. But a mojito (no fresh mint though!), a margarita and a very cold beer, all pre-check, diluted a lot of our initial woes. Non-ready rooms on arrival within an all inclusive hotel can be heavy going! 3 drinks prior to dropping off the rucksack, We were cruising! That's double the amount of booze drunk in our average recent nights out. A number only really broken back in Melbourne at the bowling club!! Deanooo where are you? I am in need of a wing-man.

Liset, our receptionist, thought we looked surprised with our hospital type wristband. We explained it was our first time! Next we push and successfully achieved an upgrade to a suite, stating that we had chosen this hotel to act as the full stop on a RTW trip.

This place even had a resident pianist, it was obvious from the off we were going to be the scruffiest guests! Especially given the state and smell of our now much travelled backpacks.

Apart from our mojito consumption (no fresh mint, outrage!) with dark and stormy rum and Gordon's getting the better of us one night, we mainly pool lounged, sea swam, sun sunned and book read. Stuff really that no one gives a blog about! Stuff that splits true holidaying from travelling. These few days weren't Cuba but great for relaxing. And the sea was the most floatable sea ever! We found that this down time gave us the chance to memorise about a year gone by.

We could moan about how all inclusive leads to gross over eating and drinking, but you already knew that. Surely the body can't cope with all this over indulgence? But by the look of some most have had plenty of practice. No one nationality being any worse than the other, but it was clear that the western world, both male and female were firmly heading up the charge. Having come from Havana where food is scarce to the point of rationing. turning up here is a shock. There is just soooo much food! At breakfast each there must be 6 months worth of local Cubans egg rations used, per day.

Then there is the booze consumption from the many, many bars. Now most like the odd drink, especially when your on your hols. But this was a big big activity here. The more experienced "all-inclusive" type never moves around the hotel without the trusty "thermos cup" firmly in-hand. This then ensures that the constant flow of cold ones stay as cold as poss. Some cups were even keg shaped! No jokng. These lot mean business when it comes to visiting a "no-cash required" bar. Some are on it at breakfast! A dangerous act some may say, but most were then easily still going at it at the end of each day, with the normal stay period being 2 weeks!

This place had a smart looking gym and with the Bristol Half swiftly approaching I did attempt the odd early morning run session. 3 of us in total seemed to opt for the morning shift. Most mornings I'd have a quick chuckle, as say out of a potencial 1000 odd guests it seemed we 3 were the measure of the gyms total usage. Me doing the odd bit of running, the 2 other guys using the odd bike and a couple of the weight benches.

Lets just say there was never a point where we were in each others way!

A day out with Dennis

This morning at Casa Lilly breakfast was on the balcony. Our first morning with no wind and a still ocean.

We had a day planned with Dennis, our driver, to Pino del Rio. Forget airbags, Dennis didn't even have seats belts! Seat beats aren't a requirement in Cuba for cars over 10 years old. Every time I got back in the car I fell for the seat belt reach, everytime! Various other non-essential internal and external bits and bobs were missing. We joked that these parts must have been traded in to tune up the engine. We took off from Lilly's at an alarming rate and from here on in it was the driving style for the rest of the day.

For the first part of the journey we didn't get out of lane two mainly because lane one was where the broken down cars sat. Dennis commented that sometimes cars don't move for days on end, some had the owners leaning against it puffing on a large Cuban with the look of "maybe in a minute she'll start but first I'll just finish this cigar".

Because of its near-perfect natural beauty, Pino del Rio in the westernmost part of the country is also known as "the Garden of Cuba." It is famous for growing the best tobacco in the world. We saw plenty on route. Milk in old style churns being transported by horse and cart. People being transported by army style trucks. Trucks with wheels that were so wonky we were amazed they were still on the truck. Old guys ploughing fields with the biggest bulls we've ever seen. Also at every corner came a classic car.

On driving into the Valle de Vinales (Vinales National Park) we reached the panoramic view deck that sits right over the Valle deVinales. The view reminded us of a Sri Lanka landscape. With flat topped mountains surrounded by deep red soils below and the odd palm tree dotted here and there. This wide open balcony, sat next to a very pink colonial Cuban ran hotel, a place where Castro himself suggested as the perfect honeymoon retreat. This province is classic "guajiro"- Cuban peasant farmer region. Crops being mainly mango, pineapple,sugar cane and of course tobacco. Large thatched vegas (tobacco drying sheds) scattered the landscape breaking up the deep rich red soil. Whilst we took in the view Dennis made polite conversation
withal complete stranger which then turned into a lunch invite at a small family restaurant. A time was set and after a quick drinks stop we were back on the turbo-powered bus to continue our tour.

From the vista point we dropped down into the province of Pinar Del Rio itself. Around 100 miles from Havana but a world away in the pace and way of life. Small colourful, non imposing stone built homes and a
few shops made up the main street. Dennis commented that in the past most buildings had been affected by hurricanes and some large trees on the pavement edges were missing. We loved the roadside barbers, in someones front garden, and the mother and baby clinic, rocking chairs ready for action on the veranda.

As we drove through country lanes we suddenly approached a rock face with a huge mural. This was painted by a former student of the Mexican mural artist Diego Rivera. Who back in the 60s chose to paint a scene that he believed depicted the process of evolution. The large scale snails, dinosaurs and chimpanzees certainly split the clouds hanging over the mountains.

These mountains not only framed very rural communities they also contained many cave networks. Some running up to 1.7 kms inland and some parts reaching into underground rivers. So for a section of route within the Cueva del Indio network we had to jump into a small boat to get us through the enormous cave network. Dramatic stalactites hung from the roof of the cave whilst massive stalagmites are constantly building at river level. With all this water and rain forest humidity came mozzies, hunting in packs of 10.

Then ohhhhhhhh what a great lunch. Dennis did good chatting with some random chap earlier at the vista point. After a morning of touring Dennis navigated us down a deserted country lane, across a narrow field to a small wooden, but perfectly formed shack. We enter this house and was greeted by the guy's wife and mother who clearly run the show. The guy from the vista point was no where to be seen. The girls informed us what they had in and with help from Dennis we ordered. So there we are sat in the front of this family's home tucking into lobster and prawns fresh from the region. Dennis commented that in his country this was quite normal to meet then eat at someones house but we reckon even Dennis was chuffed with this find. We all left with contact details for future visits, although Dennis was more likely to be passing than ourselves. The lobster was probably the best I had ever tasted.

On route back to Havana we passed through some big thunder and lightening storms, which were followed by large downpours. At one point we took shelter at a tobacco farm/small cigar factory and a friend of Dennis. As the friend was not in we were free to roam around once the storm had passed. We also both enjoyed a break from cigar salesmen, something you can't avoid if you get too close to the downtown factory in Havana.

Dennis got us home safely, and quickly. Touring out west- Cuba style. Great views, fresh fish, beers, cigars. Tough day or what.

That night Casa Lilly had a power cut just before bedtime so Lilly gave us an antique candle stick holder to take to bed, all very romantic.

No ordinary tour

Breakfast at Lilly's this morning. On pulling up at the table Fe said it was like having breakfast at Mrs Parry's in St Brelades. The dinning set had white-studded leather backed chairs and glass topped table. It even had a centre piece of red glasswear, oh and what a dinning table it was! Interestingly the butter for our toast was a product of Germany, that's a long way to transport refrigerated butter!

Firstly we had some dull stuff to do, somehow we had to locate an internet connection, which is easier said than done in Cuba as access to the internet is a no no for Cubans. We needed to send further info regarding a little accident that happened back in the Rockies. Let's just say the insurance claim saga, in true form, has started to build up speed. Typical.

On guidance from Lilly we headed for a luxury hotel with Lisa. Lisa being a new house guest at Casa Lilly. Lisa, from Germany, had been staying at a surf camp in Costa Rica and was now making her way back home via Cuba and New York. Someone else just out doing their own travel route. That´s what´s great about staying in hostel type accommodation All the tales of worldwide different travel combinations.  We sorted our stuff out and left even though the lobby had the most fantastic smell of freshly ground coffee whafting through. The remainder of the day was a classic example of how random travelling can be.

It was off to the 1:30 tour of Partagas Cigar Factory, one of the oldest and largest cigar factories in Cuba. Here famous brands of cigars like Montecristo, Romeo y Julieta and Cohiba are still hand made. We had to wait in the regulation gift shop for the tour to start, that old chestnut. But this gift shop wasn't the average gift
shop. This one was more of a gentlemans club. On entry we were confronted with every type of world renowned cigar, all available to try right under our nose, stored in the finest looking mahogany and
glass cabinets. Many of the cigars were priced at least 4 times cheaper than if purchased in the UK. All being sold by cool, cigar tooting Cuban Del Boys. It was clear to see these staff really loved their jobs. This place was ace. To one side a regular bar, leather winchester studded chairs, high barstoods and oversized ashtrays. To the other a small stained glass door which led through to a VIP lounge, which really anyone could use as long as it involved smoking something that you'd just purchased. Even to a couple of non-smokers this was a sight to behold. We seemed to have been transported back in time to days where these smells dominated parties, weddings, funerals and christmas, and like we've said, it was and felt truly ace.

The tour started at least a good Cuban standard 30 minutes late, it was a no bag and camera tour, hate that! But as this was Cuba we felt possibilities of great shots was strong. So the bag was the only thing deposited and as for our camera, along with other tour members, it was slung over the shoulder ready for action! And from here on in this is where the fun and sheer corruption started.

Spread over 5 floors. A floor alone completely dedicated to trainee apprentices. And there was not a spare seat to be had.
20,000 cigars leave this old factory per day, plus the ones leaving unoffically! The whole process is completed from start to finish totally by hand. The process begins with the matching up of like coloured tobbaco leaves, for pure asthetics only, no other reason. Then a mixing of the blends is carried out by a skilled blender who chooses different types of leaves depending on the type of cigar working on. These are then rolled together into the classic cigar shape to a required length and girth depending on type.
A percentage are then checked for density. Finally they are labelled and sorted into cedar wood boxes. Darker leafed ones on the left working to the lighter shaded ones on the right.

This all takes places 5 days a week, 7am to 5 pm, week in week out. A hand production line producing over 5 million cigars per year. As we walked through each stage of the process more and more people were taking photos. At first discreetly from the hip, then as we moved on more and more people were hanging back to blatantly take shots of the fascinating production line. Surely soon someone would get caught and
the cry for "no cameras" would go up.

At the end of each floor stood a large TV screen mounted on a stage next to where a mircophone on a stand stood.From this mic, every morning someone reads the local newspaper out loud to the workforce. Then in the afternoon a few chapters from a romantic novel are read out. All to a hard working, smoking audience.
This factory probably hadn't changed a bit since the day it opened. How it hadn't burnt to the ground I don't know. Let's just say the H&S aspect was pretty low! Further photos taken.

The tour group were steadily and slowly spreading out, chatting to workers, going the wrong way and, of course, taking photos. Then the cry went up from our guide Tamara, with some humour, "hey come here, no cameras". She must have felt like she was herding cats. All the while further photos taken.

Now we've seen boxes of the finished article at home but to witness the whole Cuban cigar process in Cuba with our own eyes was just great. Further photos taken.

The tour ended with us all crowding round a large board displaying all brand labels. Here Tamara explained the history for all the types of cigars that are made and then sold around the world. Finally Tamara lost her rag as the "no camera" policy had been pushed to new limits. As in mid conversation a red dot, from a camera's pre flash, appeared on the board. With a smile she shouted 'right you lot, down the stairs, and all out, this tour is finished'. She had seen the funny side and posed for some photos at the end. Further photos taken!

The workers we'd just met earn 15 US dollars per month. Many staff make up for low wages through selling cigars taken directly from the production line. This was going on throughout the whole tour, guys
would pop out of dark corners, hovering on landings and in toilet doorways producing cigars for sale from the front of their large apron pockets. 3 cigars wrapped in the days newspaper for half the price of the ones we'd be faced with in the shop. We can honestly say it was the most unique tourist tour we've ever taken.

So back to the fab cigar shop where further deals could be negotiated. Cuban peso's being the ace card when it came to closing the deal. One of the cigars we wanted to purchase was out of stock! We were not surprised as this has happened in other places we had visited, where a local product is made but wasn't readily available. For example Puerta Vallarta was home to a large Corona factory. But in the town you couldn't pick up this beer in any of the shops! We all laughed together as how the hell can a cigar factory shop be out of cigars! The main reason being most cigars rolled, packed and stacked upstairs are instantly exported. These beauties are going worldwide, all with huge mark-ups.

In the shop we got chatting to two couples from Syria; Maher, Shafik, Rasha and Dalia. All equally excited on all things cigar related. Our arabic is a little rusty! But thankfully their english was brilliant. We had a real chuckle with them regarding the tour as they too were taking sneaky photos on the way round. Over cigars we chatted about Cuba, travelling and Syria as its not everyday we bump into folk from this way. On mass we headed out onto the Museo de la Revolucion.

A place described as 3 floors devoted to the natural rebellion of the Cuban people. The place was packed full of info. By the time we reached the top floor we felt battle-weary ourselves. There were amazing photos, one shot captured the cringing image of an American marine drunkenly urinating on a statue of Jose Marti. And of course many other classic photo images that are widely recognised throughout the world of Che Guevara and Fidel Castro.

All the smoking, excitement, laughter and history had brought on quite a hunger and thurst. However nice, Lilly's breakfast was a 7 hour distant memory. So we all agreed to head for the famous Bodeguita Del Medio. A place where back in the day Ernest Hemingway drank his mojitos stating "nothing but excellent and most refreshing mojitos". Errol Flynn crowned it "the best place to get drunk"! Although it suffered an abortive bomb attempt in 1997, which caused non-fatal injuries and considerable damage to the interior, today it was very much alive and buzzing. Local bands came and went and we just sat round and sipped our mojitos and ate our best traditional Cuban meal yet. Since the post-bomb years Bodeguita Del Medio had been revamped a lot. But each time visitors are always eager to add their signature scrawl to the already crammed with graffiti walls. So we duly added our RTW mark.

As we randomly retraced our steps back towards the cathedral both myself and Dalia decided to pop into fantasticly qwerky salon for a haircut. Luckily for me you can't really go wrong with a number one all over. Dalia was not so impressed.

Syrians, smoking, stews, samba and head shaves - tonight we went to bed very happy people. But with heavy hearts as this crazy lifestyle will soon all be over. Meeting people like the phenomenon, aka the Syrians, Maher, Shafik, Rasha and Dalia doesn't make it any easier for us to deal with the fact that this road trip is coming to an end. Tonight they have all joined the ever growing list of great people we've met on this wee trip of ours.

We know its going to be tough going from unplanned, truely magical days like these to then switch to normal life! Today we have had yet another day where its difficult to put our feelings into words. Have tried, for the sake of travel blogging, but feel I have only scratched the surface of feelings.

What a peach of a day.

Roll another fat one

Before leaving Mexico we had to try and sort out some Cuban currency. Which was nothing short of farcical. A situation where you couldn't help but think you were being fleeced. Cuba has two types, one seemingly for visitors and one for locals! The visitors currency, Peso Convertible, or CUC almost matches that of the US dollar rate. The locals rate of the offical currency of Cuba, the Cuban Peso, CUP, is almost 24 times less in value than the CUC. Last year the cuba goverment decided that the American Dollar was not accepted any more in cuba. Still following us?   We also had to pay a departing tax to Mexico, this time though one standard currency. Mexican Pesos !

We'll be back in a couple of weeks only to leave again a few days later so will end up paying it again! Its money for old rope you could say. Cash only and no receipts" were the payment terms. What a racket! Our crumpled notes disappeared into the cashiers very large pocket.

Cuban airlines gave our first taste of Cuba. Coffee and cake that actually tasted of cigars. I kid you not. Not sure this was a good or bad thing? A smooth 2 hour flight and we landed in Havana.  Cuba is a country that is stuck in a time wharp in many ways. Aside with being a communist country it is also due to the ongoing embargo thats been in place by the USA for the last 50 odd years. Why, because Cuba chose to saddle with Russia and housed some of its nuclear missiles for the soviet regime at the height of the Cold War. All linking back to the race of who was going to be the biggest super- power in the world. Ever!

Some say Cuba is a legendary place that's only being kept buoyant by rum, cigars and salsa! In 1492, Christopher Columbus found and claimed the island for the Kingdom of Spain. Cuba remained territory of Spain until the Spanish–American War ended in 1898 and gained formal independence from the U.S. in 1902. Between 1953 and 1959 the Cuban Revolution occurred, removing the dictatorship of Fulgencio Batista.

Lying like a crocodile between the fishing nets of it's neighbours, the US and Mexico, Cuba is home to over 11 million people and is the most populous island nation in the Caribbean, as well as the largest by area.

Once off the plane we were met by smoking airport staff and an arrivals lounge that had a distinct 1980s feel and smell to it. At the security checks everybody beeped when passing through the scanners, though once patted down noone seemed to have anything on them of any concern, faulty kit? The very last check point involved 4 nurses, at least I think that's what they were. We were allowed to walk straight through, us whities are obviously not harbouring any fatal germs. We were greeted with a variety of items riding the baggage belt. Stacks of tyres for cars and bikes. Very large flat screen TVs seemed to be quite popular among todays arriving passengers, plus more shrink wrapped boxes than you could shake a stick at.

Taxi scrum negotiated we were off to our casa (Cuban home), without the full address, ooops. Spanish-English, now known as Spanglish, teamwork got us through!

Most tourists head to the coast and the designated tourist areas where large hotels are permitted, normally Spanish owned. Thus designed to push as much outside money through channels that can be monitored and controlled. These delevopements are dubbed where socialism meets salsa or communism with a dash of capitalism. A mix that is becoming a heady brew!

Havana is a place where tourism has been slow to take off, many see it still as a rare find. As part of a steady change to tourism though, in the last 10 odd years Castro has started to permit the opening up of Cuban homes to act as tourist accommodation. So with American chain hotels not permitted and the government not keen on encouraging backpacking or budget travel, a casa is the best bet if your on a budget it also means you get to live with a real Cuban family. Yes, you can see Cuba from a well protected bubble of a more luxurious run hotel but for the first 5 days of our stay we were staying with Lilly and her family in Vedado, on the edge of downtown Havana. The flat was fantastic, furnished throughout just like Thorton Court in Jersey. It contained some beautiful old furniture and was decked out to suit. Even the smell put me into a daze of fond memories of Channel Island living.

As normal once the bags, well one bag as again for this trip we'd managed to leave one backpack at Regina MC, we were keen to explore. After a quick run through of house rules and local knowledge we were off in the direction of the sea! We walked the Malecon (promenade) soaking up the atmosphere as the waves crash overhead. There were holes in the road and pavement because of these over active waves! Locals simply hanging out playing instruments, dancing, swimming or just sat relaxing enjoying the afternoons sea breeze.

We walked to the old town and wandered through the decaying colonial cobbled streets. Hundreds of dilapidated mansions, just crying out for Kevin McCloud to turn up at Jose Marti arrivals lounge. Or would they? Maybe the Cuban appeal is such because of this decayed look?

We felt like we were walking through a living museum of a bygone era. We were speachless. Architecture to match other countries touched by various conquests. But the Cuba system just isn't preserving the past. Many buildings have been allowed to crumble into derelict states. Many mansions are being propped up by half built scaffolding which is tangled by masses of electrical wiring. It's hard to believe some of the more crumbling houses still have people living in them. Many families, over the years, have moved in together to share the vast spaces within these colonial mansions (the buying and selling of houses is prohibited). In some of the mansions up to a dozen families are living. Brightly coloured washing strung across anything that would hold a line.

Some places put our renovation heads into a spin, being a couple of old romantics who love all things old. Some gave us a feeling of being downtown in say Capetown or central San Franciso or even remote French villages. Buildings with simply stunning multi coloured tripple height stained windows, turned pillars, romantic looking verandas with elaborate window bars and sweeping entrance steps. Every now and then we would get a sneaky view inside one of these rotting mansions providing views of beautifully carved wooden ceilings, double hinged half doors and folded lattice window screens. But all just calling out to be fixed up or at least preserved. Some buildings were being preserved and were "work in progress".

With plans for the Malecon to recieve a complete overhaul funded by the Spanish. Many trades were sat out front taking a welcomed drinks break. The afternoon heat and humidity wasn't really assisting project momentum. It will cost billions to save a lot of these buildings. Surely this country knows is sitting on the edge of something fantastic. Hopefully some day something will happen as if not it will be a tradegy if these fall to the grasp of the demolition gangs. Thankfully some of the inner city centro de historico areas have now been given UNESCO world heritage status. These now well safe from the swinging ball demo crews.

And then there's the cars! So this is where all the worlds Lada's have ended up. Guess there was always going to be a trade off for housing all those Russian missiles. But if Lada isn't your drive of choice the 60s Buicks will make you smile.

A world without America. No mass coca-cola invasion, no towering Hilton Hotels, brightly coloured McDonalds on every intersection, no huge K- Mart out of town style shopping malls. No Nike mega-stores. No giant advertising boards, no international newspapers or television stations, no internet! It's a strange one at first. All feels and makes for a very different lifestyle.

The result of being embargoed by the states is that sourcing almost anything is pretty tricky. Anyone else also known to be trading with Cuba is also black marked by America too. So they really are and have been going it alone! Raymond, Lilly's father, back at the casa said we had no clue of how difficult life was and the frustration on Lilly's face is heartbreaking. Try running a business and not advertising, no email account, she gets taxed on rooms that sit empty, and buying eggs and bread for guests breakfast is almost impossible.   Talk about dark ages. For years we had wanted to come to Cuba 'before it changes'. But now here we just hope change is round the corner for a brighter future for the up and coming generation.

Within the winding streets of old town Havana, mixed in with the neglect is the odd small tourist shop mixed in with the sweet smell of cigar smoke from characters puffing from the door ways. The few tourist shops that have been approved are mostly operating from small tables in the front room of their own homes. As for somewhere to grab a bite to eat, well the revolution has also done nothing for the country's cusine. Plus it's said that most Cubans spend the best parts of their days trying to obtain food that appears daily on approved hotel menus. Oh that heavy guilty touist feeling.

The country's agriculture system has been focused for far to long on merely being an industry that puts basic food on the table rather than even thinking about a culture where fine dinning exists. Let's just say you don't come to Cuba to expand you culinery knowledge. Often the waiter in the restaurant is a highly educated teacher or even doctor, but can take home a better wage from the tips!

Adios magical Mexico !

If New Zealand was our outdoor dream, Mexico has been our cultural heaven.

So it's adiós to the street shoe shiners, the adorable hawker street kids, the wonderful zocalos all those stunning cathedrals and the seemingly everywhere type 1 vee dub beetles (we don't need to photograph any of these for a while!) Adiós to all things chilli and chocolate, to cheap reliable transport and over excitable friendly characters spouting double-quick Spanish.  This is a country where it's residents seem frustrated and trapped within their own country's underworld problems. The country's poor portrail by one sided media, homing in on all things negative will continue to scare off most potential tourists thus depriving a hugely fascinating country of a fruitful cash input. It's such a shame as the whole country is a photograhers dream and the "real" Mexican people are lovely and are more than keen to tell you exactly that.

For us Mexico has been nothing but fantastic. So does that make us fortunate, lucky or just switched on? Mexico's troubles are out there ready to be found, there's no doubt about that. You've just got to be aware of this and try your best to avoid it.  Future travel to Mexico? Yeah sure and maybe they could opt for a Columbian style shake up. A place where after around 10 years of targeting and constantly smashing the drug rings in a drive to break down some of the strongest cartels and internal corruptness known, the troubles have reduced.

As I queued for our last couple of 40 pence cerveza's the Righteous Brothers rang out and pushed me softly into yet another 'moment'. Well we are now well into June so this trips nearly done and the 'moments' are becoming more frequent!

Mexico, it really has been a pleasure.

Miss:
D - margaritas, liberal Mexicans, chilli with absolutey everything, the VW Beetle, bustlely zocalos, hostel Regina, latino fashions, huge pâtisseries
F - the architecture, cheap cerveza, freshly made guacamole, women in tabards (do I need one ?)

Won't miss:
D - guns at every corner, being a "whitey tourist", mezcal, going Loco, mole.
F - struggling with my spanish. Another 8 months it would have been cracked!

The Plaza Garibaldi, just about.

For nearly a month now we have wanted to visit this frenetic gathering site of mariachi bands. Tonight we were all set to go, but it nearly didn't come off! When will I ever learn.

Whilst popping out for the regulation mid morning americano we bumped into Pepe, a proud local chilango that we did a fantastic city walking tour with back when we first arrived in Mexico. In true form he was excited and enthusiastic to see us. As normally he never meets first time tour takers a second time round. We chatted for a while and he was really keen to hear where we had been and what we had seen within his country and to find out why we were now back in Mexico city.Keen to celebrate the great news that baby Frank had entered the world, we suggusted a much awaited night at the Plaza Garibaldi.

This plaza is the capital's notorious meeting place for hundreds of competing Mariachi bands that gather each evening, all in their tight silver-spangly charro finery and vast sombreros, to play for anyone who is willing pay them! Normally around 80 peso's per song, around 4 pounds. A typical Mariachi band consists of two or four violinists. A brass section of say three trumpeters and three to four other guys on guitars. Oh yeah and a vocalist. The latter normally being the boss- guy come chief serenader.

The time of our meet, 8 o'clock "sharp". Much to Fe's delight Pepe is well known for his time keeping so we were conscious that we didnt want to be late. Foolishly at 17:05, after a Skype call to newly formed family Rob, Emma & baby Frank, we called my rents following a skype message that they were too "online". 1 hour 50 minutes later!!, calling the place that we're both going to be within the month, westruggled to wind up the "quick" catch up call. So some 5500 miles from home and a "quick" call to my rents they still managed to make us late, gggrrrrr. When will I ever learn, there is no such thing as a quick call home...

So after the quickest turn-around-of the bike ever we get to Mexico city's famed Zocalo 10 minutes late and a stomach full of food. No sign of Pepe. Grrrrrrr. With no way of communicating we just had to stand and hope we'd not missed our chance.A further 10 minutes passed, hmmmm. Then Pepe arrives. Thankfully he too had been delayed, although not by rents unable to end a phone call, merely metro night maintenance. With buenas noches and hand shakes all round we swiftly headed off to hopefully catch a slice of the much awaited Mariachi action. The nearer we got to the main plaza the more energetic the atmosphere became. As did the feeling of a supper that had been consumed in under 3 minutes flat. Pepe said not to stress and was sure that a tequila would settle our indegestion.

When will I ever learn, there is no such thing as a quick call home...

We thoroughly enjoyed our evening with Pepe. Somehow at 15 years of age, sat facing a old, dull, bearded guy bang on about history seemed pretty boring. 22 years on and sat with a excitable, tequila drinking, Mexican archaeologist the world's history takes on a whole new appeal. This guy's energy is infectious. Frappe margaritas, fascinating conversation and great music! Ohh the music. We got through so much conversion. One being that Mexico is such a religous country in one hand but in the other it has such a relaxed approach to many topics such as same sex marriages, abortion and uthinasia, all permitted here. We discussed the country's drug cartels, which to two outsiders is just fascinating to say the least. Underworld mobs are now targeting, and in places successfully controling, drug rehab centres!
Recently even performing a mass line up style shoot out at a rehab meeting of staff and reformed addicts.

Pepe mentioned that his tour numbers were becoming less and less every year. In his view a direct impact on tourism because of the negative press. He couldn't understand that the US are still happy to advice their citizens not to travel to certain countries, Britain and Mexico being high on the list but his country has never be exposed to anything like 9-11.

The evening flew by and we enjoyed the music, the company and of course the tequila!

Welcome Frank

For the last week or so we have been religiously checking our emails every morning to see if our wonderful friends, Rob and Emma, had had their baby.  


Today was the day!  Frank arrived safely, all 8lb 8oz of him and mother and baby are doing great.  Congratulations both (although you are probably now too knee deep in nappies and nipple pads to be reading this blog!)

Back to DF, Mexico City

So for our final bus trip in these fine lands it was a trip back up to Mexico City, and not a "Bandido" in sight! Maybe they are nothing more than a Hollywood myth? Who knowns. Never the less though we have taken some precautions. We have never travelled with a wallet stuffed full of cash, we avoided the night bus (as for one, it was no cheaper and two it only takes a few non-sleepers on the night bus for you to then kiss goodnight to any real sleep).
Within a country the size of Mexico we found the bus network to be excellent. We've travelled comfortably for just under 1700 miles, that's around 3 times the total length of Great Britain, north to south, and not one delay.
Being the weekend the roads were a little quieter. The same couldn't be said though for security at varoius check points. All visable as ever, traffic volume regardless.

Farm fields free from workers. Some choosing instead to meet for picnics, baseball and jumpers for goal posts style football matches. Ok so the main road that led us away from the mountains and farmlands had one lane less than a motorway but traffic speeds were almost the same. What we found frightening was to see so many babies and kids riding up front in cars just stood or on mums lap. Then there's the livestock being relocated kerb side by the youngest of shepherds. Not so healthy looking cattle but always an ever so faithful dog trailing a short way behind.

Back at our wonderful hostel we had plenty of ´stuff´ to do, banking, shopping, admin, Cuba planning etc. But walking around this city never fails to disappoint. Finding new coffee shops and yet more amazing buildings.