Daiquiri en La Floridita

MG with a classic Daiquiri
Originally uploaded by mgharris

Finally, I get to have my daiquiri en La Floridita*.

In honour of...oh who needs a reason...we went to celebrate, dinner & dancing with friends at London's La Floridita.

It's a fancy restaurant/bar/dance club that features the finest examples of Cuban music, and a big variety of rum-based cocktails, including my favourite, the delicious daiquiri. I tried three different ones and they were pretty, pretty, pretty good.

The band was El Guayabero, an excellent son group from Holguin on the eastern side of the island. They played 30-min sets of up-tempo son numbers with some boleros and cha-cha-chas mixed in. No one danced for the first two sets - maybe the people at the bar were shy? Others like us were scoffing down food yummier and more luxurious than you'll find anywhere but in the very fanciest restaurants in Cuba.

The first time we ever went to Floridita was in January, for my friend Becs's birthday. That was before we'd been to Cuba (Becs had been many times), before we realised that Floridita is like an idealised, fantasy version of Cuba. In reality I didn't see anywhere in Cuba that looked anything like this. It's the levels of consumption - no-where we went in Cuba looked this fancy, certainly not the type of places bands like this play (excluding Varadero - the tourist-only enclave, which I didn't visit.) In our experience bands like Guayabero play to sweltering, smoky rooms with ineffective celing fans, and the dance floor heaves with expert Cuba couples and salsa tourists being taken for a spin by their Cuban insrtuctors.

During the third set, when we were moved off the table (you only get a 2-hour sitting on busy nights) and back to the bar, we decided to go for it on the dance floor. One couple had just taken the floor. Within seconds of us joining them the dance floor filled. The musicians looked utterly delighted. It must be a drag for a dance band to play to a motionless audience.

However, salseros, whilst the music and atmosphere are romantic and evocative (if not authentic), the drinks are wonderful and the food delish, it is not a cheap night out... And like us, you will probably still need to factor in a visit to a salsa club for a proper dance fix.

We went on to Salsa Republic@Club Colosseum, where the music of Maikel Blanco, Manolito, Issac Delgado, Adalberto and Los Van Van was as ever, wall-to-wall and sizzling hot.

P.S. Inexplicably, a photo of Becs and I dancing at the Manolito concert has rapidly risen to become one of my most viewed photos on Flickr. Is this blog to blame?

Let's do the experiment. Here's another MG & Becs dancing salsa photo - better quality, taken last night at Club Colosseum.

* the reference is to Hemingway's habit of drinking "my daiquiri in La Floridita and my moijto in La Bodeguita" - two of Havana's most famous bars. The line is quoted in one of Los Van Van's most popular songs, "Tim Pop con Birdland", a timba riff on the 1970s jazz classic "Birdland". For those who are interested in such things, I reckon "Tim Pop con Birdland" may well be my keeper on a Desert island Disc selection...

Nostalgia for...Beny More

I wasn't alive in the days of Beny More (pronounced More-ray), the Cuban singer and band leader who went to live in Mexico and became a massive influence on all the Cuban salsa bands.

So why do I get these gorgeous pangs of nostalgia when I listen to Beny More? Why does it make me think of a Cuba and a Mexico I never even knew?

My theory is that as a tiny child I was exposed to this music. I do know that after my mother left my father, I spend a great deal of time with my two grandmothers. One, Abuelita Josefina (known to her old friends as 'Pepa') had a wonderful memory for lyrics and knew many of the songs of Beny More. Beny More often appeared in popular Mexican films, which went through a golden age in the 40s and 50s.

So maybe that's it; maybe I was sat for hours in front of the TV while my grandmother knitted (she was mad for knitting). Maybe that's where I acquired this overwhelming craving for gorgeous night clubs where Cuban bands play for beautiful people, sipping daiquiris between dancing the son, mambo and cha-cha-cha.

This Cuba does not exist anymore - I've been to look for it. It's all timba and reggaeton now. That's great, but, ah nostalgia. I once spent a whole afternoon lying next to a pool in Santiago de Cuba, listening to the piped music of Beny More. That's as close as I got.

@Manolito, like Casa de la Musica all over again

nic and mel
Originally uploaded by mgharris

For a little while last night at the Coronet (Elephant and Castle, London), I felt as though we were back in Casa de la Musica, Havana.

Nic and Mel were even there...if you read this blog you might remember that we first saw them in Havana's famous dance hall on Galiano Street, grooving away with sexy male dancers Bustamente and Yoandy, when I snuck my 14-year-old daughter in to see Maikel Blanco.

Manolito Simonet y Su Trabuco are one of Cuba's top bands, one of the world's top salsa bands and like all these outfits, unbelievably tight and accomplished, all 16 of them. The musicianship is quite astonishing. You get used to it but when you listen to a run of the mill live jazz act you suddenly realise just how fantastic these top salsa bands are.

Manolito have a few songs which are currently club favourites, like 'Marcando la Distancia' (a song about divorce), 'Control' (a reggaeton favourite) and the crowd-pleasing, chorus rousing 'Locos por Mi Habana'. Apart from that they also mastered cha-cha-cha (latest hit, 'Se Rompieron los Termometros'), sophisticated latin-jazz instrumentals and even a bolero! (all the above songs titles link to Youtube videos.)

These tickets have been selling at every salsa event we've been to for the past six weeks, so there were many familiar faces. A really wonderful feeling, to be part of this loosely connected but joyous community of Cuban salsa fans.

And here's a photo of me at the concert with my best friend Becs:

Really must buy a good small camera for these things...BlackBerry is not up to the job...

Thanks again to MamboCity for organising this gig!

"Too Much Salsa and You Could Die"

That's what Cuban salsa dance teacher Osbanis Tejedo said at breakfast on Sunday morning to the DJ. He was asking him to stir up the music a bit, some bachata, some merengue, some reggaeton.

Well, despite those words, I remember last night being mostly salsa...and the night before and the night before. I think I may in fact be dying from too much salsa. I feel as though I've been out on a drinking bender, absolutely shattered. And in the past three days I've had no more than one glass of wine.

It must be dehydration. Let me weigh myself...nope, no change there.

Salsa is definitely like a drug. It makes you feel amazing, you forget all your troubles while it lasts. Then you come back down to earth and realise that your problems haven't gone away, for goodness sakes. They're right there waiting to be dealt with, how dare they! And what do you turn to for a solution...?

More salsa.

It was great to be with a hundred or so like-minded addicts. How we sweated to get our rumba moves right, to move like the African spirits, the Orishas, how we strove to follow the tiny-but-fiery Damarys in her energetic and outrageously sexy reggaeton routine, how we concentrated on Kerry Ribchester's wonderful body-movement techniques to move ribcages for Cuban son, and laughed at Leo and Osbanis's flirty rueda moves.

Last night, you saw it all pouring out on the dance floor. Salsa with rumba, orishas, reggaeton, son, all mixed up. Okay, most people there were Northern European (and I was raised here, so I too started off stiff-as-a-board), but we were beginning to get there.

But man, am I exhausted.

Now, when's the next salsa thing...?

Fiesta de Los Rumberos

Fiesta de Los Rumberos
Originally uploaded by mgharris

Rafael del Busto (in the cap) takes everyone through some moves in a warm-up Rueda de casino.

I felt sorry for non-salsa guests at the Arora hotel, Crawley. The music from the party went on until 2am at least and was easily audible in our room on the 2nd floor - enough to sing along with the lyrics.

MG - why were you trying to sleep when there was Cuban salsa? Well for one thing, 3 consecutive very late nights is beyond me. We wanted to be fresh for a long day of workshops beginning with Ariel teaching Cuban son.

Tonight though, we'll stay until the end. Some friends are kindly taking care of our little daughter so it's that VERY rare event for parents- a night off!

Just as well. I bet the hotel will get complaints from other guests. But tonight...I want that salsa played LOUD.

Emailed from my BlackBerry®

Buena Vista Night - July

What a pity I'm going to miss the next Buena Vista Night in Oxford. It's quite become the highlight of the month, although with all the festivities in London lately at Carnival de Cuba and next week's Afro-Cuban Weekender, Habanaloko party the following week and the Manolito Concert at the Coronet at the end of the month, July looks like the best month this year for us UK-bound Cuba-loving salseros.

D and I arrived to watch Habanero Leo Henriquez from Brighton teaching the raunchiest rueda moves I've ever seen. Mangos, castiga-la ("she's been naughty - slap her, you know you want to..."). I was kind of glad I wasn't in the class. Hey - there are some salsa moves that I'll only do with David.

(Well...maybe...until some Cuban guy comes along and tempts me into it...)

Over at the bar we had one of those brilliant reunions you sometimes get if you've been dancing for years and years - someone who's dropped off the planet for a while will swoop back into Oxford and of course, they'll visit the latest salsa joint. On Saturday it was Nick St Clair. Nick; blond Nick with the flowing blond mane and the tight white jeans, sexy Nick with the flashy Merc, Nick who once had his own salsa band. Yes, that Nick? You don't know him? Ahhh. Before your time then?

I didn't recognise Nick at first because he's gone all Andaluz. Living in Granada, Spain will do that for you. His hair is darker, tied back in a gitano-style pony tail. He was dressed all in black. Nick has two kids now; gorgeous, he showed us pictures. I had a brilliant dance with Nick - he hasn't lost his touch at all. My favourite Nick story is about an early dance experience of his. A sultry Spanish woman was dancing with him in a club, when he'd had just one or two lessons. She mistook his flamboyant clothes and hair for the att-it-tude of a guy who can dance. (Beginner need to watch out for that!) When she found out that he was a beginner she just left him there, walked away from him on the dance floor. Lo deje planta'o!

As Nick told me this story, it began to sound familiar. "I think I know that woman," I told him. "In fact, I think she's a good friend of mine - Ana." So devastated was Nick by this treatment that he resolved to become a terrific dancer. And he did. So Ana did him a favour really, didn't she?

We really enjoyed the set by DJ Shorty. She's a very pretty girl. And she loves the music of Adalberto Alvarez!

So...next week...Crawley! For three nights and two days of all-salsa-all-the-time!

Following the railroad in Cuban Granma province

Following the railroad in Cuban Granma province
Originally uploaded by mgharris

I was delighted to see today on Flickr that someone favourited this photo. My husband David snapped this from a Viazul tourist bus as we crossed Cuba. He kindly took lots of photos of what you see of Cuba as you cross from West to East; Havana to Santiago de Cuba. This was so that when I came to write the relevant sections of Project Jaguar, I would be able to recall the images and atmosphere of this country.

Maybe I was asleep or watching the movie because I didn't actually witness this scene myself so I'm even more grateful that he caught it. This captures the essence of how tough it is for Cubans to travel around in Cuba. Most people in Havana that we spoke to had never been to the other side of the island. And people in Santiago would tell us, "I went to Havana once, about twenty years ago." (It's not like in the UK where people are too busy going to Mallorca to go to London - they can't go anywhere - it costs too much!)

Few people own a car, those who do tend to own cars that are too clapped out to get far without breaking down and of course there's nothing like the RAC if you do. On the major roads you find small crowds of hitchhikers gathered under bridges, despondently waving money bills at passing private cars but mainly goods lorries. There's no such thing as a free ride.

These hitchhikers aren't game young students; ther are people of all ages, often with small children in tow.

I wonder where this woman in the photo is going with her two little ones. Waiting for a freight train to give her a lift? I wonder how long it took to get there.

This could be Leo...

This could be Leo...
Originally uploaded by mgharris

This morning, sorting through some photos I took in Cuba I came across this. I'm just writing a section of 'Jaguar' in which the hero, 'Leo', dressed in a borrowed school uniform (they are standardized across Cuba) is escaping across Cuba. 'Leo' is a blond boy, 12 years old, of Russian and Siberian descent who's lived most of his life in a secret school in Cuba.

And lookee, here he is...

Carnival de Cuba

Ariel Rios Robert (left) as the Orisha Eleggua, with an impromptu dance student

I know, I'm like a stuck record.

Such a fabulous weekend of partying in Southwark Park at the Carnival de Cuba with mi gente caliente de Londres (those hot-blooded Londoners), followed by a night at Salsa Republic's Afterparty at Club Colosseum where everyone turned out in style. Including (bless their colourful socks) the 8 best dancers from Ballet Rakatan who treated the clubbers to a blistering guaguanco and rueda show at 1.30am, after doing two performances that day.

(You can see the guaguanco here...from some TV show, not exactly what they did in the nightclub)

Flaked out between 12.30am and 1am...thinking...this is it...I can't take any more.

But a quick snooze put me right. Well, not really. Young children and nightclubs don't mix well - they conspire to rob you of sleep. Didn't drink a single drop of alcohol last night but this morning felt like I had a horrible hangover.

I'll be Youtubing some clips of all those Londoners grooving away in the park. (Yes, including me.)

A Brush with Cuba in Summertown

Miladis Diaz shows paintings by Cuban artist Fuster at The North Wall of South Parade, Summertown, Oxford

A stroll into Summertown today resulted in a surprise Indian lunch at the Spice Lounge (a bargain at £4.95!), a coffee in Costa's watching Oxford Uni students spilling out of their Prelims in sub-fusc (and pink carnations...we always wore red or white...since when is it pink?) and then a drop-in to an art exhibition on South Parade where one of Cuba's premier artists, Fuster, is showing his work.

(see The Colours of Life, in Oxford until 24th June)

Miladis and I had a nice chat about Havana and Cuban art. I told her I was writing a book set in Cuba and this morning had written a scene set in a 'country school', where high-school students are used as unpaid labour to harvest coffee for the state-owned industry. I admired her name, as exotic as are many Cuban names.

"The truth is, lots of them are made-up," she said, blushing.
"And they're the better for it," I said.
"I'm not so sure. You get all these silly ones, starting with Y... it's a generational thing," she said. "People in their twenties and younger. Ynieski, Yulieski, Yolexis, Yoanni, Yumiel, Yadel, Yonelki, Yunior..."
It was my turn to blush. "I used the name Yoannis for one of my characters," I admitted, "And I know a Yunior..."

Miladis gave me the phone number of her friend in Havana for next time we're there. Her friend is a biologist who writes children's books, as coincidence would have it!

WOW! Havana Rakatan

Promotional video for Ballet Rakatan

We saw the terrific dance show Havana Rakatan in London on Saturday. Performed and choreographed by a Cuban ballet troupe who specialise in folkloric dance, it demonstrates the evolution of dance in Cuba. From the fusion between Spanish dances like flamenco and African rhythms and dance from the Santeria religion, the show charts the development of dances including son, mambo, cha-cha-cha, rumba and salsa.

It covers similar ground to the show Lady Salsa but in a more balletic manner, without any explanatory narrative. The music is performed by son band Turquino, a tight ensemble who play a hugely impressive set.

The dancers are all gorgeous, but my favourites were Joel and Yordy. It was hard to take my eyes off the beautiful men, (especially during the little striptease at the beginning where, breathing hard after a strenuous introductory number, the men line up at the front, slowly unbutton their shirts to much audience encouragement, and strip to the waist, revealing a row of the most delectable torsos you're likely to see this side of Cuba...)

I did occasionally watch the women too, who were pretty darn fabulous.

Act 1 focuses on the African dances of the Orisha deities who intercede, in the Santeria/Lukumi religion, between humans and the creator God. That very morning I'd written a scene featuring a Santeria chant to Ochun. Watching Havana Rakatan, I was delighted to hear that very chant being used to open the sequence of breathtaking dances of the Orishas.

(It is also the chant at the beginning of Adalberto Alvarez's santeria-rap-salsa composition, 'Y Que Tu Quieres Que Te Den'.)

Act 1 alone is worth the ticket price. To see these dances performed by the world experts in Afro-Cuban folkloric dance is a huge treat. The music adds another level. I was simply astonished at how well Turquino and their singers performed this Afro-Cuban music. Mesmerizing is the only word for it. I could have listened to them for hours. At one point five singers (including two percussionists) joined in, singing tight close-harmony. Spellbinding!

The other highlight is the blistering performance of rumba near the end. Echoing their earlier roles as warring Orishas, the two lead dancers performed a rumba contest, including the fastest tembleque (shaking of the shoulders and pelvis) I've ever seen.

It's on at the Peacock Theatre in London's West End, until 23rd June. I may have to go again...

The reviews use words like 'dazzling' 'spectacular' 'rip-roaring'. They're NOT exaggerating.

(NB If you go on a Wednesday, Thursday or Friday there are salsa classes, DJ and dancing 'til late.)

Timba and the challenges of escapist music

While researching the Orishas of the Santeria religion I came across this fascinating academic article about the origins and social impact of timba music.

One of the things that I find intriguing about the popularity of Afro-Cuban music and dance in the non-Spanish-speaking world is that the music and rhythms clearly have the power to transcend the language barrier. Watching people dancing away I sometimes wonder - do people have a clue what the lyrics are saying? Does it matter? Are they somehow getting the ache (the spirit) of the song without understanding the lyric?

If you've ever wondered, I highly recommend this article, which

"makes the case of timba as a type of non-engaged music which, while presenting itself as emphatically escapist, during the 1990s has in fact become intensely political in the way it has articulated a discourse challenging dominant views on race, class, gender and nation."

http://www.sibetrans.com/trans/trans9/perna.htm

That's what I'M talking about...

Just came across this Youtube video entitled, Reggaeton in Cuba, 3 hot girls dancing in a disco.

The first two girls dance about as well as I might hope to dance one day if I keep practicing 30 mins a day. (Oh let's face it, I'm dreaming.)

The third girl, especially when she gets going, looks to me like a professional dancer. She is awesome!

The band is Charanga Habanera, timba geniuses, and according to the debate on Youtube, the dance is known as reparto. But it looks like what we in the UK refer to as reggaeton.



Dale reggaeton!

Maikel Blanco Y Su Salsa Mayor

Maikel Blanco y Su Salsa Mayor (Maikel on keyboards)

(Yes, I'm still going on about Cuba...)

I finally found the name of the salsa band who played in Casa de la Musica the night I first took my teenage daughter to Galiano in Havana. Yes, naughty me, I passed her for 18 when she's only 14 and introduced her to a world of loud timba music, the best dancing in Havana, the raunchy dance moves of Bustamente and Yoandy who were grinding away with their latest dance pupils (who we met weeks later in Oxford), the Cuban hottie who tried to get my daughter to fall for him...and to this amazing timba band Maikel Blanco Y Su Salsa Mayor, who had us mesmerized.

Their hit son "Eso Esta" (This Is...) is my FAVOURITE salsa song to dance to. I hear this and I have to dance... Here's the video of "Eso Esta".

Soneando en Oxford - Claro Que Si!

What a pleasure last night to see a halfway decent homegrown salsa band - Soneando.

The creation of a Bristol-based keyboard player, Sara and two British conga/bongo players, Soneando also feature Jimmy, a Columbian bass player and Cuban tres-player and frontman (I think they called him Jesus...?). Yesterday they added in a terrific singer from Santiago de Cuba whose sultry, high voice blended brilliantly in the harmonies with the two male singers. It was a set of classics of Cuban son, but with groovy piano lines and pretty-darn-good improvisations.

They were as good as any small (i.e. non-famous) band we saw in Cuba. Seriously.

After dancing son all night, David and I felt as though we'd been at the Casa de la Trova in Santiago de Cuba - another place with zero air conditioning.

I went to talk to the lead singer afterwards. "You guys were great!" I said. He shook his head, embarrassed. "No...we were RUBBISH!".

A Cuban from Las Tunas, he was amazed and then sceptical to hear that I'd liked Las Tunas, through which we'd passed on the bus to Santiago, about two months ago. Jesus has a nice line in stage patter - in English too. He likes the word "Wha'eva".

Non-Stop Solemn Salsa

I have worked out...that from now to September, I'll be attending a salsa event OR going on holiday every single week.

Including:

• My best friend's wedding this weekend in Brighton (with salsa party)
• My best friend's wedding knees up in Andalucia (salsa on the beach of Conil de la Frontera)
• Buena Vista Club in Oxford with live band Soneando
• The acclaimed Havana Rakatan dance show in London (tickets still available) followed by a night on the daiquiris at Floridita
• Carnival de Cuba in London, including Sur Caribe and Pedrito Calvo
• Salsa Republic
• Afro-Cuban Salsa Weekender

That should keep me very cheerful, all summer long! I'm a firm believer in the milestones-of-happiness approach.

I've dropped my writing target to a manageable 500 words per day. The plan is all done, in mega detail, so barring illness or other setbacks, I am aiming to finish a draft of 'Jaguar's Realm' in time for my birthday at the end of August. That way I can have a joint celebration at...where else but Floridita. Yay!

Ah, the best laid plans...

Septeto Santiaguero

This one's for motorpilot from Litopia.

Septeto Santiaguero

Forget Buena Vista Social Club - founding members Compay, Ruben, Pio and Ibrahim have all passed away. The best son band in the world is Septeto Santiaguero. Contemporary son compositions played in a upbeat, energised way, hugely danceable. We saw these guys on our last night in Santiago, in the famous Casa de la Trova.

Here's a video from their latest CD 'Los Mangos Bajitos'. It's a wonderful guaracha called 'El Culpable'.

('I get the blame for everything; I get the blame for my own stuff, I get the blame for everyone's stuff, caramba - I get the blame for EVERYTHING!

They say I'm vain, cos I dress like a lad, they say I'm capricious, a drunk...

They say I'm a low-life, stuck me with it, cos I fancy my mate's woman...

Someone loses a wallet, they mutter that I took it, without noticing that the wallet has an owner - me!')

Pupy y Los Que Son Son

A small break from thinking about superhero films. (Hint: there are only three different comic books in the final 5 - getting the order right, that's the thing.)

To reminisce about Cuba (again) and about how great Pupy y Los Que Son Son are. I've been listening to their terrific CD Mi Timba 'Cerra'. It's so amazing, really hot salsa/timba, infectiously danceable. Almost as good as Los Van Van's Chapeando.

Here's the video for the delicious De La Timba A Pogolotti.

Pupy (Cesar Pedroso) is the greatest. This is what I love about salsa; some of the biggest stars are in their 60s. My daughter and I saw Celia Cruz on stage in London when she was in her 70s. She danced all the way through the show!

Like any of you care. I have to get some fellow salseros reading this blog.

Meanwhile, here's a photo of one of their three soneros (improvisational lead singers) - my favourite, Pepito. He's like a fiery, red-haired gypsy from Andalucia. This is actually taken in Casa de La Musica, Galiano, where my teenage daughter and I danced the night away with two Cuban hotties. While my lovely husband babysat. What a star!

Orishas Dancing at Buena Vista Club in Oxford

Not the Buena Vista Social Club of massive Cuban-band-fame, but a monthly Oxford Cuban salsa event organised by local Cuban dance fans who arranged for us to have our very own locally-based professional Cuban dance teacher, Ariel.

I've been chatting to Ariel quite a bit since we happened to coincide in Havana when we were over there. I'd mentioned to him about seeing Yoannis and partner doing an improvised Afro-cuban dance in Santiago de Cuba. Maybe he remembered that, because at the end of the afternoon workshop in which he taught us the dance of Eleggua, one of the orishas, or Santeria deities, Ariel offered to dance to the song "Y Que Tu Quiere Que Te Den?" (And What Do You Want Them To Give You?) and show us the dances of all the orishas who are sung to in that song.

Which was a major bonus for me, because of something I'm planning for an important scene in my latest project codenamed 'Jaguar'. No more info for fear of spoilers... Perry, one of the organisers of Buena Vista in Oxford, is going to put up a video on Youtube.

Another one of those weird coincidences - I saw a British woman dancing reggaeton and recognised her from the world-famous dance hall, Casa de La Musica, Havana, a few weeks ago. She was pretty unmistakeable - I've rarely seen a white woman, let alone British, move like that! When my daughter and I went to Casa de La Musica, the Cuban guys we were with were amazed and said about this woman - "She moves like a Cuban." I went over to talk to her and her friend, and they were indeed the two women we'd watched dancing with two quite well-known dance teachers from Havana.

She told me that just over a year ago she went to Cuba to learn to dance for the first time - as a beginner! I was staggered!

That does it. I must practice reggaeton at least half an hour a day from now on.

Great Things About Cuba

Well mainly it would have to be the people, the music, the historic buildings.



Example: chambermaids at Hotel Sevilla make animal shapes out of towels and leave handwritten notes to guests, welcoming them to the hotel.

The people who deal with tourists display no envy, no resentment at all that these yumas get to enjoy life in a way that's denied to them. Even when they are asking you for something, they are keen for you to take something from them. A woman in Santiago begged me quite insistently for clothes of my five-year old daughter's, who she said was the same age as her own daughter (L). But by then I'd given away half of what we brought to give away and the rest was all promised. I'd asked L if I could give away her dresses and promised to buy her more in the UK, but L wouldn't hear of it. She's very attached to her clothes and I wasn't going to upset her - she wouldn't understand the argument of need. So I told this woman 'sorry, but no'. "Please," she said. "Or you give me something of yours," she said, "and I'll give you something of mine."

We were given salsa CDs, books in Spanish, necklaces made of seeds and beads, pottery ash-trays, little wooden dolls. Nobody took a thing from us without giving us something in return. The couple we befriended in Havana, Alicia and Giovannis, were desperate to take us to Coppelia, Cuba's favourite ice-cream chain (3 flavours!), where they insisted they'd pay for all of us (tourist money isn't allowed there).

Hotel staff, people in the street, everyone treats visitors well. It's a contrast with Mexico, for example, where tourists are also very important, but won't feel all that special.

Then there's the music.



It's incomparable and ubiquitous. Any band wandering the street is better than any so-called 'Cuban band' I've seen in most places, except top-notch Cuban restaurants in London and Mexico City. They'll play any Cuban tune you can name. In Santiago we asked for 'Donde Vas Domitila?' (the song played by the trio which follows Ralph Richardson everywhere in 'Our Man in Havana'). Well, those old geezers had never had the song requested, but they made a fair pass at it, improvising words for the verses.

It's awe-inspiring, such talent. Yulieski, the chisel-featured Santiaguero, a young salsa singer-in-training was the only uniformly cheerful Cuban we had dealings with. It was pretty obvious that he had music running through his head the whole time.


And then there's the gorgeous legacy of the Spanish - similar in grandeur to what you find in Mexico, but in the Oriente it also has a French twist that makes it all a bit New Orleans.

C'est magnifique!