Three Nights In Guanabo, Cuba

The flight from Mexico City to Cuba is quick and smooth. Zippy lays still on my lap, absorbed in Patti Smith’s book, M Train, as I skim through Lonely Planet, one of the many pdf’s I downloaded in preparation for a much needed Internet detox. In the row before us, Ali and Teresa are gossiping and giggling, the way long-time friends do when they finally get back together after months on the road. The girls are dorky, funny and naturally beautiful, the kind who’d rather not wear makeup, and never overthink what they eat or drink. We fly over the azure waters of the Caribbean, high on tequila “con hielo,” and the sky explodes with torrential rain upon our arrival at José Martí International Airport around 3pm in the afternoon. I lock gaze with a stunning female guard sporting patterned fishnet tights – a sexy look for a security official, I reckon, and tall dark men with green eyes watch our every move as we walk out of the terminal and hop into Manolito’s classic car. Destination: Guanabo, a seaside town located less than an hour away from Havana, where we are to spend our first three nights in a massive stone mansion on the beach…

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