Havana

[Dandyist]

Translation please. You lost us at the 5th paragraph.

Well, I have actually left yet so this story is just that, still a story. I thought I would lighten things up a little and write a report not about sex but about food. I am actually talking about, churros, lunch, and ice cream cones.

[MrSoulo]

This is my first ever trip report. I hope it doesn't disappoint.

Day One: Sunday.

Plane landed at the airport 1 pm. I am here no less than ten minutes and already the Cuban heat has me going crazy. I promised myself I wouldn't go in head first until I at least get settled but I can't help myself; talent is everywhere: chocolate, vanilla, mocha. I heard about the variety here but this is just plain ridiculous.

So I spot this cute little number at the airport. She is on display so I know she is a hardcore pro. I lean over the counter and whisper the only Spanish word I know, "cuanto'. One thing leads to another and soon I am taking it to the bathroom. Now this is a little embarrassing but I'll admit I was done in three minutes flat. I don't know whether it was because it had been so damn long, or because I was so paranoid of getting caught doing it in the bathroom. But my voracious appetite could not be suppressed any longer. I had to have her. Man was she sweet. Tasted like honey, smelt like cinnamon; my first taste of Cuba was more than I could have ever hoped for.

After an hour on the bus, and a five minute walk, I was at my own casa in Centro Habana. I chose this area because I heard the selection here is hot, and best of all, cheap. I'm here for sport, gentlemen. And I'm not picky. This is where things start getting a little crazy..

Translation please. You lost us at the 5th paragraph.

[Dandyist]

This is my first ever trip report. I hope it doesn't disappoint.

Day One: Sunday.

Plane landed at the airport 1 pm. I am here no less than ten minutes and already the Cuban heat has me going crazy. I promised myself I wouldn't go in head first until I at least get settled but I can't help myself; talent is everywhere: chocolate, vanilla, mocha. I heard about the variety here but this is just plain ridiculous.

So I spot this cute little number at the airport. She is on display so I know she is a hardcore pro. I lean over the counter and whisper the only Spanish word I know, "cuanto'. One thing leads to another and soon I am taking it to the bathroom. Now this is a little embarrassing but I'll admit I was done in three minutes flat. I don't know whether it was because it had been so damn long, or because I was so paranoid of getting caught doing it in the bathroom. But my voracious appetite could not be suppressed any longer. I had to have her. Man was she sweet. Tasted like honey, smelt like cinnamon; my first taste of Cuba was more than I could have ever hoped for.

After an hour on the bus, and a five minute walk, I was at my own casa in Centro Habana. I chose this area because I heard the selection here is hot, and best of all, cheap. I'm here for sport, gentlemen. And I'm not picky. This is where things start getting a little crazy.

My landlady is easily in her late seventies. She is a frail thing with a thick accident that I can barely understand. She says if I bring anything back to not leave anything laying around. It's not safe she says. I nod my head to show I understand. But then she goes even further. She says that I shouldn't even bother going out for it because she'll hook me up for free. She appreciates the business she says. At first I was taken back by her offer, but then I thought to myself, this woman has like 50+ years of experience, this could be life changing! Besides, why take a chance on picking up something random on a street corner when its being served up fresh right here? Yeah, you all can judge me but what is done is done.

I was so tired at this point that I decided to have a nap before going out for the evening. A few hours later I woke up, had a shower, then headed to Vedado. I was in the mood for something in particular and I've heard this is the place to get it. Plus a lot of good clubs are in this area. Long story short, but remember the vanilla and chocolate I was talking about? Well don't I get within 30 feet of 23rd and L before I start hearing the coo's. Damn these people are brazen. I am trying to be as sly as possible because there are cops everywhere. But being the glutton I am I decide that I can have both. Screw it. I break the cardinal rule and pay for it right there in the open. Two scoops, fifty centavos.

Screw the club. In one day in Havana I've sampled the menu three times already. I am going to need bigger pants.

That night I fell asleep and dreamt of my sweet bathroom churro.

To be continued.

[Mr Gogo]

Why are you guys playing games with the police. You can not walk with the girls? Is tricking illegal and if so what are the consequences. I would consider Cuba but I do not want to be paranoid about the police.

That's why its very important Old kool to do your homework. If you take the time to investigate instead of being lazy you will have all your answers. Go back in the forum a few pages and you will see that its not the guys that have problems with the police. The police are very efficient so its the more hardcore girls who have problems with the police they are the ones who have to take precautions. You should consider Cuba to see for yourself what it is about instead of having others scare you away.

[OldKool]

Why are you guys playing games with the police. You can not walk with the girls? Is tricking illegal and if so what are the consequences. I would consider Cuba but I do not want to be paranoid about the police.

[GrownMan1]

I enjoyed read your post El Balsero.

[Mr Gogo]

First, great reporting El Balsero, thanks.

My most memorable times in Cuba center around the women and music. Cubans love all music and do it from the soul without any guarantee of financial rewards.

One night I was sitting on the terrace of Ingleterra hotel listening to the band there when I decided to take a walk. I walked out of Ingleterra and cut across parque centro bearing to the right. When I got to the street I turned right and walked 3 blocks and turned left. On the corner I looked up and it was an open bar upstairs with live music playing, so I went there. It was a seven piece Mexican band and three girls to the right of the stage and me. I later found out that the three girls were girlfriends of the band so basically I was the only one there. The band played like they had a full room and I tipped the hat 10 cuc for a great job done. Next thing I know they are asking me for requests as they did Latin and American requests. Then during break time the whole band came to my table to introduce themselves and talk. Then they said "you want to see our videos? I said yes and they hooked their laptop to the big screen television. I was amazed, these guys were famous. They had video of them performing in huge stadiums and jumping into the crowd. They had videos of girls fainting at the airport as they were mobbed. I felt privileged as they shared their view of being on tour with me. They were in Cuba for 3 weeks because they had never been and loved it, especially the women. I went back for the next three nights and they greeted me every time like a friend, truly special times.

Another time I was at El Portal. If you walk down Prada toward the malecon and turn left on the malecon El Portal is the first restaurant with chairs outside. It was 10:45 pm and they closed at 11 pm. They brought me a drink for free and said to take my time as they took the tables inside. As they cleaned up I sipped my drink and enjoyed the ocean view, then they put on a Barry White CD. I'm on the malecon, sipping a drink with Barry White playing in the back ground. The funny part was that the staff didn't speak any English but knew every word to every Barry White song they played.

Speaking of El Portal, late at night sit there and have a drink and you will see girls coming out the building to check out the gringo. You will see girls walking the malecon giving you the eye and if you tell the waiter you would like some female company to drink with he will get on his phone and a girl will be there in 5 minutes.

Sofias on 23 avenida also has free live music and is great to girl watch.

[Mondo707]

For what it's worth, you can find plenty of fantastic "Salsa" all over Cuba, though the way the Son developed in its Motherland is different than the direction it took in Puerto Rico and New York. On my last visit I saw LOS Van Van, Alexander Abreu / Habana the'Primera, and Maykel Blanco in three consecutive nights.

Hey Combo,

Man got to say you got to check some of the hottest bands on the island.

Me, being a Cuban music aficionado, that's one of the reasons I go as often as I can, have noticed the same and was disappointed to see a lack of interest in this type of music, specially with the younger crowd.

FYI, there is a band called El Nio and La Verdad that is as hot now as Havana the' Primera, maybe even more so. Bought their CD on a website out of Italy and downloaded it to my computer.

Highly recommended for those mongers here that enjoy Timba & Cuban Salsa.

Mondo

[Combo]

Wow -- great report El Balsero. You did a heck of a lot in a short period of time.

I did chuckle a bit at your going to Cuba to look for "Euro-type women. " Cuba is very much an Afro-Latin Country, though slightly less % of Negritas than in the DR. Where do you think the Son came from? If you want Euro-looking women in Latin America, you'd be best off going to Argentina, Chile, or Uruguay.

For what it's worth, you can find plenty of fantastic "Salsa" all over Cuba, though the way the Son developed in its Motherland is different than the direction it took in Puerto Rico and New York. On my last visit I saw Los Van Van, Alexander Abreu/Habana D'Primera, and Maykel Blanco in three consecutive nights.

If you go back and stay in that same area of Vedado, make sure to hit a place on La Rampa called La Gruta. Great music and great dancing.

[El Balsero]

Monday – I'm in BC now trying to finish this blog. I spent 14 hours in Havana Airport. They finally got us out by splitting us onto 2 smaller aircraft; a study in organizational inefficiency. Got to bed around 1 am, still woke-up at 7 am; that's my routine. I like BC early in the morning. I find an Italian place that's open and get a cafe. I have a plane to Miami at 1 pm.

Lessons learned. Not only RTFF, but print-out important parts e. G. Cash and location info. Also, anything about phones and internet. If you really want to use the internet, you may be better off in a major hotel. NOTE: When I tell people I'm American, they want to shake my hand. It's not all street-game; they're sincere; they still run street-game after. However, I think I'll stop telling people I'm from Florida: too many stories about relatives. About: coordinating to get chicas to the casa without running afoul of the policia: next time I will print-out my casa address from my reservations, make numerous copies, and cut it up into small slips of paper; like a business-card. Then, just hand it to her with some directions to meet in 10-20 minutes. The important thing is to get them in the door quickly. If it's a place like CDLM; with cops posted outside; give her taxi-money along with the address information, and tell her to give you a 10 minute head start. I think at CDLM, you could start walking North towards the Malecon, and she could pick you up in the taxi. Time will tell on these techniques.

[El Balsero]

Sunday. I came here to the airport at 6 something AM, on the advice of my landlady. The taxista was early, waking me up at 5:30. I'm glad I found someone reliable; and reasonable e. G. $20 to the airport from Vedado versus $35 for the yellow metered-taxis from the airport into Vedado. He had been taking me to Havana Vieja each morning for $5, and then I would walk back through old-town and Centro. He wanted me to leave him the shorts I was wearing when I left. I told him No, I liked them. But, I would bring him a pair on the next trip; and I'm serious about that. I plan to bring a suitcase full of stuff next time.

The bad news is Cubana Airlines continues to disappoint. It's now almost 4 pm; I've been here since just past 6 am; I hope their plan to get us out between 6-7 pm comes off.

As is typical anywhere, it doesn't take long to get to the airport at 6 am on a Sunday morning. As we were leaving the neighborhood, we noticed a couple chicas just coming back from somewhere 'dressed to impress'. I looked at them and they gave the typical come-on. Always up for another round, I suppose. However, I'm on schedule. We noted a couple more on the main roads. So, I guess if you're determined, there's availability then as well.

The Sunday plan was: 9 am flight back to SD / BC for one night, then Miami on Monday. I don't think I'll do the night-scene in BC; too much of a let-down. Maybe go to the gym in the afternoon. This is all in the hole now, as I'll get to BC around 11 pm. Gee, just in time.

[El Balsero]

Saturday – all day to play, but need to rest in the Evening; if I can settle-down? I have a date with 'favorita'. I'm getting to know a few people. Of course, everyone 'needs' money. But, a few dollars here and there, to me, is just 'sowing the seeds' for the future. Anyway, I gave my dance-instructor yesterday money; far in access of the cost of a lesson, and today she can't get out-of-bed to have coffee with me; even though we had discussed it. So, I'm pissed a bit at her.

I found a real nice little coffee-bar in the corner of the tourist part of old-town. It's valuable to me because I can write here. I would like to be the Ernest Hemingway of the pervert-blogs. With that in mind, I hope my favorita comes to me a little sweaty today. I haven't been able to get any fragrance from her, as she has been too clean. Although, straight from the Cuban soccer team is not asked for.

I feel a lot better today. If I can get a nap this afternoon / early evening, I'm actually thinking about doing an All-nighter tonight. I have an early taxista picking me up at 6-630 am. I could go to CDLM at midnight, do a better job of 'running the gauntlet', watch the show and look for the fresh-ones. The live show ends at 3 am; although, it appears 'the deals are made and the goods delivered' prior. At some point, 'Vamos a casa'. 200-600 am to do whatever. Then, el aeropuerto. 9 Am flight to SD / BC. I can nap in the afternoon, I hope. NOTE: on my previous visit to CDLM, while there was a definite thinning of 'the ranks' prior to the show ending, I saw a couple of the most impressive girls after the rush-hour. Some, I conjecture, are new to the game, demure by nature, and get lost in the chaos of the seasoned chicas assaulting the available payers. There may be a tactic here. That is, wait for the wounded to be cleared from the battlefield, and see who's still standing. To be clear: the more refined women may be the ones still there after rush-hour.

It's early still: Saturday morning 10:15 am. I may go by the restaurant that was playing Salsa yesterday. I already got the name this morning, but I need to 'pin' the location. It's in the Capital area. I would like to invite my dance-instructor to lunch, but I'm a bit indignant, and need to put her on notice. She did a major RFM yesterday, considering. She wanted to get a phone: like, explain to me why I should care. Only time will tell if these things payoff. I think it's high-risk investing. But, really: to me these monies are 'a pittance'.

There's a young woman; sitting at the coffee-bar now; that could make me change my plans this afternoon. Interesting, because she's not the Paisa-type that I like. Oh, looks like she works here. Just to add: I did try to chase one down this morning, but I lost track of her. I was riding in the taxi and noticed her stepping on the curve. Only saw her 'leaving', so not sure. Anyway, I did try to double back; as I thought I had 'flanked her' in the taxi. Just to let you know, I will try as time goes on.

I guess I'm a tourist-chump. I went back to find the restaurant and found a different place nearby. But, it's a cool setup. It's upstairs in an old building with the classic architecture. They have live Salsa playing now. This is rare in my experience to date, as I understand that it's the tourists that are keeping Salsa alive. The mainstream now is doing the other club stuff. I've heard more Bachata in the streets than Salsa. More Salsa records played in the DR than here; save the tourist places.

They have a big show at night with optional dinner. I'd do it if I had some type of date. But, seems a little complicated now. So, I'm having an espresso, listening to music, and planning my next move.

I humped-it back through El Centro. Currently having my; now typical; salad for lunch-dinner. I need to send some kind of notice message to my 'chica on call'. Maybe she could mellow me out so I can rest for the evening; then go out. Well, I'm having problems sending a message. I wish I knew how to turn off automatic updates on this phone. It uses up all the bandwidth; which here, is minimal.

I'm sitting across from the discoteca 'Salon Rojo'. I inquired. They said it would be open tonight. I looked in. It smelled musty. Perhaps the A / see will clear that.

There's actually so many options, I'm not sure how my evening will go. I forgot to tell a little story from last-night. As I'm walking back to my apartment, there are lots of people hanging-out on the side streets making wireless connections; and otherwise looking broke and bored, trying to make their own party. There was an attractive young woman that tried to flag-me-down. I acknowledged her, but kept moving. I couldn't figure what her situation was, as she was sitting next to a long line of young guys. The point is: she was quite lovely, with some type of black dress and perfect makeup. If I hadn't had swollen eyes and generally 'feeling like shit', I would have done a 180. I wonder if she'll be there tonight? It was roughly after midnight. I can do a big loop. You always get a lot of 'holas' as openers, but most are not what's of interest. The one above surprised me.

Anyway, I think I successfully got a message off to my on-call favorita. So, 'voy a mi casa'. A couple hours later, I look for her across the street right before the hour I gave her for a meet-up, and there she is; looking as good as ever. We have a long session together and once again, she is totally there with me. She got me off when I thought I was dead! So, I asked her: tiene hambre? Si, vamos a restaurante. She knew a good one not far from the Malecon, but not touristy. We chatted about my plans to return ASAP. I told her I could bring 'a regalo'. She said it would be enough for me to return. We talked about her family, her home-town on the other side of the country, and the economic situation there. But, as I should have known, it degenerated into a: 'I don't really want to be a hoe' scenario; with her excusing herself, saying she was getting sad. She promptly left, with my consent.

I watch a music-dance show at a Hotel from 10 pm to almost 12. Then walk across from Salon Rojo for a cafe con leche to see if it will boost me up. No good. I go back to my place to take a nap from 12:30 to 3 am, then get up and walk the streets again. Nothing of much interest by now.

[El Balsero]

Friday – that's today. Yesterday: What a 24 hours – too crazy. I'm sitting in a restaurant in Havana-Vieja. Note: even this tourist place is half the price of similar menu items in the US.

It's just occurred to me that my experience at Habana casa de la musica may have been better if playing-off a wing-man. I see a disadvantage in running solo in a place like that. The aggressive girls block you from finding the ones you're really after. Now that I know the place, I think I would burst in and grab a mid-row table, then scan for the good-ones. Hell, I'd buy a bottle, even though I'm not drinking, just to set up 'the props'. Anybody want a drink on me?

I just did another power-walk from the old-town to Vedado. This time, I hit El Centro, which is truly noisy and dirty with all the automobile traffic. I'm having another good salad on Ave. 23. I need to go home and get some rest for my dance-lesson at 7 pm. If we get our dance routine going, I will ask her to go out with me tonight. She probably knows some places I would never find out about. However, I'd go back to CDLM just to see the floor-show; on and off the stage.

I just had my dance-lesson. She was teaching me Cuban-salsa, or 'Son', which is the predecessor of American salsa. It's less swinging, and more style; the so-called Cuban-motion. We agree to combine the two styles in our own little routine. She will be fun. She suggested we go out together tonight, which I was hoping for anyway. She offered me more. I told her no, I didn't want anymore. She persists to know why; so, I told her. She hits me for the money anyway. I invest in her. I have just enough cash left: to comfortably do what I want and leave Sunday AM. Note: I return with ¼ of my cash left.

I tried to rest the afternoon, but couldn't as I knew I had my dance-lesson. My eyes are swollen and look like I have dark-streaks under them. I guess I'll look better with a hot shower and some eye medicine.

My date was called off last-night (it's now morning). I get over to her house and she's on the telephone trying to find a club to go Salsa-dancing; without success. She says there's one at the very Western-end of the Malecon that's 100% salsa, but it's closed for technical reasons. I offer to take her to CDLM, but she doesn't want to deal with the cops. Can you believe that: can't find a Salsa club in Havana! This supports what I read from a blogger on a travel site: that salsa is now only done for the tourists. There are still some old people that know it. The young people that do it are in the tourist-trade. I heard the same thing in Puerto Rico, from a Salsa dancer. Well, sleep now, and perhaps Saturday will be better.

I just got back from walking around the area e. G. Ave 23 and the Malecon. I went out again at 430 am, after having gone home to sleep after 12, My eyes were so sore I know I looked bad. There's not much out there now; nothing you would want anyway. I did check-out a place earlier called Coctel Disco. I need to resolve to be mean with these aggressive girls. It's not in my nature to act that way, when someone is trying to talk to you; but, its all such obvious hustle. I need to push-them away right from the start, rather than letting them game me for a drink; when I know I'm not interested.

[El Balsero]

Thursday. I'm here now, typing this draft. Not sure when I'll submit it. I have 3 more nights. F*ck-me. I'm on my third 'cafe con leche': burning this draft. I'll keep typing until this coffee is done, then back to El Centro for reconnaissance. Note: I've been here a few days and nights now. I haven't seen any other gringos on the 'La Rampa strip'; only people at the big hotels, that look like they're with girlfriends doing that scene. I'm surprised how few other tourist-types I've seen out.

Back in Vieja. I think I'll walk West thru El Centro to Vedado. Hopefully rest later; for the night.

I found a nice little spot for cafe; off the main drag in Vieja; which is Obispo – effectively pedestrian only. I'm having a hard-time coordinating two devices: phone and laptop.

I just did a power-walk from Vieja, and blew past El Centro's hotspot. I'm too far North for the strip on San Rafael and Ave. Italia. I was resolved to follow-up on any entreaties; as I'm DTF. After having a good rest last night, I woke up thinking about it; so, I'm looking. I need to slow-down my power-walking. The place is not that big. And, it doesn't take long to walk-it; if you're used to walking. I mean, between the Old Havana and Vedado. Miramar would be a good, long hump.

Almost to mi casa. On one of the big streets near-by. I see this shapely negra in tight pink-jeans standing in a doorway; a beautiful ass that appeals to me. As I'm passing, I hear her and another women call out to me. This is interesting, so I double back. They ask, in effect; if I'm an athlete. Here's the age-thing again. I'm not a body-builder, or even much of an athlete these days. But, I do still have muscle-tone from the gym; doing a modest workout. The other woman is much older. The typical middle-age (for Latin America, that's about 35-45) with the characteristic overweight, dowdy appearance. They both tell me that she's a dancer (the pink jeans girl). I'm interested, as I've taken some lessons in the USA On Latin-style; although, 'I suck pretty bad'. Dig this: then the older gal starts pimping her. You know: the mouth gesters, the hands, yada-yada. Everything she will do to me / for me. You know I'd committed to follow-up, and this is interesting. So, I fire-away. Mi casa is only two blocks away. I lead, she follows; with the older-gal; who camps out across the street. The short of it is: it's too pro for me at first. She insists on money on the table. Mostly, I don't like the fake sexuality. That to me is a sinking peter-meter. I'm losing interest quickly. Not to mention, she's menstruating. I mean literally 'on the rag'; as she pulls it out of her jeans; handing it to me to discard. I've always been OK with a little blood & gore, but the whole scene is starting to drag on my interest-level. I'm thinking of 'paying her and booting her'. She's sincerely concerned, is trying all kinds of new things; but, it's rushed, and not the sensuality that I had experienced with the previous two. However, she's willing to try and is preparing herself to offer me 'some culo'. I beg off on this, but cut a deal for her to return in two hours, for a propina. She's serious about the time. I relax and take a blue-pill. Sure enough: about 1. 5 hours later, I'm ready. She's 15 minutes early. Now, this time is Totally different. I chat with her about her dancing, as I'm relaxing with her and moving her to work-me. She's warm and friendly. I'm faster than I had been in a long time; which in this case, is something to celebrate. I complete as she's giving me little kisses on my stomach and thigh; while doing an admirable job of stroking me at just the right pace and power for me. It's all very gratifying. Here's the funny part: we have a very interesting conversation afterward, discover we have some mutual interests, and I arrange a dance-lesson for the next evening (Friday). I'm looking forward to it, as she was very impressed that I understood the basic footsteps. I call her: Mi maestro de bailar.

I finally remember that I brought a bottle of Melatonin to help me sleep. I take one and go into a deep sleep from 8-10 pm. That's enough to reset my clock, so I'm ready to go out again. I walk along the Malecon, heading from Vedado to El Centro. Then Habana casa de la musica. I walk in, do a quick scan and see that the bar area is free; so think that is a good tactical location to begin. A Mob-scene ensues. First, a nice European-looking gal; that I had talked to on the Malecon the previous evening, while wandering around very-tired. She goes for 'the close' immediately; reminding me that I told her I may look for her another day. I like her, but think she needs more time to recover from the baby. I escape to seek-out the bartender. I don't see any water available, so decide to indulge in a Red Bull; hoping it won't knock-me out off my diet. I'm now surrounded by available women, in some degree of marketing. I'm headed off by a pretty, yet aggressive, mixed-looking latin. She's not what I'm looking for right now, so I escape again. Many girls are displaying: "am I what you want". Another European-looking gal shoots me a big smile both times, as I pass along the bar first to get the bartender's attention, then to escape the crowd. I like the sincerity, and shoot-her the two-finger eyes-on-you sign, as I break free of the bar. The others see it, and look pissed. She's on me right away. Moving me away from the others. Wrong choice! After she breaks free of the mob, I see that she's a flaca; which is not my type at all. But she appears tall in her pumps; and I'm impressed with her semi-pro demeanor. She pulls me to the corner of the bar where we can talk. She's trying her limited English; which is appreciated. She talks to a Cubano next to me; and then explains that the man knows her mother; and she's asking him not to divulge that she is in this place. I wonder. We go to a table. I'm really enjoying the atmosphere, then the live-show. I'm trying not to gawk at the numerous attractive women; most apparently available. The point here is that there were some truly beautiful women in the club that were not noticed by me at first, due to the aggressive ones. These women were sitting at tables waiting, but definitely giving off the 'come talk to me' vibe. There are a few that look like they're in groups or with dates. I'm wondering if I should bail on this gal, but I'm having a good-time. It's interesting to watch some couples doing Cuban-salsa (Son) to non-salsa music. There are a couple good male lead dancers; apparently teaching Caucasian women; I wonder about the 'Sankie' angle. My 'date' and I discuss leaving when the live-show ends at 3 am. She attempts to explain some complex taxi-maneuver, to avoid being noticed by the policeman at the entrance / exit. As we resolve to leave, she pulls me over to qualify me on the terms, and we begin negotiation. She leaves to prep her taxi-driver, then returns. We go out and her taxi-driver gets taken by someone else. Now the taxi hassle begins. I tell the parking guy to talk to her. He gets in the cab with us. What the hell is this parking-guy doing in the front-seat riding along with us? I sense a cheap hustle. I look over at the girl. She's no help. There's a cop on the corner. Fortunately, he's distracted. I get her in the house and return to ask how much. The guy says cincuenta and shows me a calculator with the number 50 on it! I rear in Anger- I almost do a roid-rage; riled up like I'm about to swing. He cowers, knowing I'm pumped. He says, OK twenty. I peel-off $15 and split inside (that's a $7 cab-ride; at night, and should be less in the day). I'm steaming. The chica looks at me in horror. I'm about to start kicking furniture. She asks if she should leave. She's concerned about my anger with the cop outside. She tells me how much trouble she can get into. I decide it's not her fault and try to calm myself down; which takes time. We start to strip off some clothes, her revealing a weak, frail-looking physique. Then, this: 'where's the condom'. I freak: scolding her not to say that. In addition to a sickly body, she has no body-escaping. Nice light hair on top, dark below. At least I do some basic man-escaping, so as to give the 'neat and clean look'. We lay down for a little kissing. I don't want to do anything with her. She does nothing for me, but a little gentle stroking. It's not working: I'm not there. Gota go. I jump up and start dressing; telling her to do the same. She gets it and apologies. As she's about to leave, I think about taxi-money, then resolve to take the moral high-road, and give her 3 twenties; the agreed at the club was 4; after she wined about the 'cost of marketing' at CDLM. She also offers to set-me-up with her friend, that was at our table; one of the prettiest negras I had ever seen. You know: the type where you just want to stare at them, because their face is so symmetrical and proportioned. I wave this off as well. I'm in bad shape emotionally; mad at the taxi hustle, and mad at myself for hastily choosing the wrong chica.

It's almost 4 am. By now. I need to 'walk it off'. I head down La Rampa to the Malecon. I leave the crowded area at the end of this street walking East. I find a spot and relax a bit. I get up to look around and she's coming towards me laughing: Mi favorita de Cuba; the first girl. I start to feel better just chatting with her, telling her I intended to send her a text-message. She says: why not now? I know it will be great. We're off. – another night – todas-las-noche; if you consider starting in the early morning hours. That to be TLN. What's important: she took a bummer night and turned it into a great time. After sleeping in a bit, and then more festivities, we head-out, first making a date for Saturday; my last day.

[El Balsero]

Wednesday – I go back to Havana-Vieja in the morning. I find a good taxista (kind of gypsy taxi guy) that takes me for $5. I spend most of afternoon trying to get a telephone; without success; or make a call, or message via the internet.

I walk around Vedado checking on getting a telephone. I need to study the Forum on this. It would help for the next trip. Finally, I send a Message to chica One. I don't expect a quick reply, or a response at all, based on discussion on this Forum.

I have lunch at the restaurant nearby. They sometimes have live music there. A band the other day was so good, I bought their CD. The guitarist was serious talent; and they could harmonize. At that meal, I talk to a female street hustler about a one dollar coin: CUP versus CUC that she says she got stuck with by a taxista. I decide to invest in her game. I give her $20 that she doesn't ask for. It will be interesting to see if that generates any dividend, or a write-off. Anyway, the pull is her offering to negotiate with local girls in her neighborhood; as well as apartments and general services. I buy because she's been attending language school for 1. 5 years, and speaks comfortable English. No time now. It'll be an interesting addendum to my next trip.

I start to open the gate to go near the hotel so I can get a wireless connection and check for a text message. I look up: there she is. She's through the door, we immediately start. Her back is wet, it's been 'hot as Hades' the last couple days. We agree to 'hit the shower'. It's another GFE. We quickly soap & rinse while kissing and touching. She's becoming excited touching me; as I am as well. We then take turns on each other. In some respects, it's good to have the penile de-sensitization (I'm not sure if it's the age or the alcohol; or both); but whatever, if I was hyper-sensitive, like when I was in my 20's, I would have blown right there and then. Instead, it's move to the bed for 'para te, para me'.

I put 3 twenties on her purse. She later thanks me. She tells me to text her when I want her: on-call chica. She says: give her an hour, as she lives far-away, or give a meeting-time. What a great feeling: My 'ace in the hole'. I like her personality so much I'm tempted to ask her to have dinner with me; as I really would like to do that in Havana-Viejo. But, don't want to make another date mistake, like with a chica in BC. These girls, at least some; are borderline psycho. You have to be careful not to allow them to delude themselves into thinking you want them to be novias. This is tough, because I also like to do traditional-things, like have dinner with an attractive women; hang-out, etc.

Wednesday-night: I decide to check-out Casa de la musica (CDLM). I take a taxi with a truly annoying driver. I get pissed-off, as he could see that I couldn't understand his Spanish, yet wasn't capable of slowing down for me. I've found this a lot in the DR, and I'm disappointed to find it here as well. Many people grow-up poor and ignorant, with little exposure to foreigners struggling to learn the language; and often have no idea what you're saying, unless you say it exactly the way 'they are used to hearing it'. I think we do much better in the USA. Even if we make fun of them; historically ("America been berry berry good to me" we are used to people with 'accents', and slow-down to listen to what they're trying to say. Try that with some Dominican with an 8th grade education, that's never worked with tourists. I found it last night with this taxista. All he could do was 'blurt out' what he wanted to say; no speech disciple, even with a gringo-tourist. He's trying to be friendly. You know: what's your name, where are you from. I'm becoming more careful with this. I tell him my name is: Fidel. He doesn't get it. We get to the destination. We had agreed $7. I have a $1, $5, and $10. He doesn't have change for $10. He shows me is wallet with no cash. I've hardened on this, having been played a sucker on taxi change-game. I tell him, OK, is 'libre'. He says no, I'm to run around to the stores and get change. I give him the $6, slam the car-door; that's about to fall off the hinge; and signal for him to move-on. I'm normally a nice-guy; but, you know what can happen when you are. I later found a taxista I plan to use for future trips. He has a good personality, and is inexpensive, if you don't mind his old LATA (Soviet era).

I'm too early. It's only 9-10 p. I walk up to the square at Italia & San Rafael. I'm told there's action there, but all I see is people trying to get a wireless-connection. I go to the coffee-shop. I walk back along Ave Italia to CDLM. I'm looking in the window trying to figure out why this place is talked about; all I see is a bar. NOTE: Here's the deal. It's a converted movie-theater. So, there's a regular bar at the front (e. G. The old popcorn / coke area), then you go back to an area that 'mushrooms' into an area with a stage, etc. By the time they open, I'm losing interest. The rumor about a $25 cover helps. Note: That applies only to nights featuring a top band; it's regularly $10. I decide to call it off. I didn't rest well in the afternoon. Too much fatigue. It's like a jet-lag; which for me at this point, greatly impairs performance. I walk back along Malecon – a few girls try to get my attention and call me over. I'm not interested in the Dominicana-types, but stop for a European girl – I have an interesting discussion, but wave-her off. Too much baby damage. She's pretty, but too pro.