Baseball in Cuba

Children (mostly boys) play improvised baseball games everywhere. I saw one boy batting with an empty 2 litre Coke bottle.


Devotees play overlapping games all around the national Capatolio building where I was called up as a pinch-hitter in an afternoon game between two unidentified teams.





I stared down the pitcher – which was not hard – and assumed my batting stance, crouching low to shrink the strike zone to his level. He wound up and delivered what was either a changeup or simply his best fastball. I lifted my left leg and hit the ball over the infielders and set off – at which point I realized I didn’t know where the bases were. ‘Donde el baso una?’ I yelled, and an infielder pointed to a tree beside the corner of the Capatolio. I reached first safely and feeling confident took a big lead towards where geometry led me to expect another base. The next batter popped a high fly ball and I tagged up at my tree, but the fielder caught it and apparently that was the third out. I had been sent in on a clean-up role and failed. I retired as the oldest player (by about 35 or 40 years) in the league.

Dining in Cuba

The Paella Restaurant in the Hotel Valencia was my favourite – the only place where I ate twice. I ordered their cheese plate and washed chunks of Stilton wrapped in slices of mozerella down with a Merlot for an absolute taste orgasm. The Paella and a couple of other restaurants I liked have a delicious dish of thick succulent slices of chicken, beef and pork in a subtle glaze.

Once I discovered that my hotel breakfast could include a juicy hamburger with mozzarella I ordered nothing else for the rest of my mornings. When I went to Cuba in the eighties (to Varadero, not Havana) I was disappointed by the blandness of the food but eating this last week has been a delight.

All Havana service industry staff – even in the lowest of dives and even where only locals and people like me eat and drink – wear black and white uniforms. You even sometimes see people dressed this way patronizing establishments on their way to and from work.

Havana

I'm about to return to Haiti after a great holiday in Havana.








Links to more pictures here

I am in Havana on Rest and Recuperation from Haiti, where I worked never less than ten hours a day from February 2 until March 27. So far I have done little more than sleeping, reading a book about Cuba and the CIA, and walking around (and taking my first bath since October) but I’ll be taking a tour of the city tomorrow and making a start on the museums.

Although I am one of very many tourists I’m discovering Havana seem wonderfully uncommercial. I’m in a charming hotel that is full of colour and flowers – with no advertising or tackiness.




(NOTE: The water was that colour when it came out of the tap.)

There really are old American cars here. At least one I noticed (shown last below) would have been quite old even at the revolution. As many of these beauties are taxis I might get a ride in one but the taxi from the airport was a Kia - and seemed to be in worse condition than these.

I'd like to caption these - can anybody identify them?