Stories from Havana. Havana Edge blog.
While romance is certainly different things to different people, Havana is such a intense and emotional place. El amor esta presente siempre , says my 73 year all friend Osilda. And it is true, we can all feel it. Here are some of my own favorite romantic spots in Havana.
Havana is sound. Music. Traffic. Kids. Street vendors. All of them loud. But the sound mix is not the same across the city. In fact, I can probably identify each barrio with my eyes closed, just by listening.
For everybody who has spent time in Habana the Malecón holds memories. I am no exception. Walking home from the salsa along the Malecón, shoes in hand. Driving along it with the waves crashing over the wall
What is freedom? Opportunity? Life when you feel you do not have it. I wish I could talk to you again Lily. Best of luck, Lily, be happy.
When I first started with the casa in Cuba I had no idea how time consuming even the simplest repairs would be. Little by little nearly all the things in Casa Nini carry a story to remember. Take the chairs on the terrace for example.
Beautiful, beautiful! “Hello Lady, where are you from? And not unusually: I love you! For most female first-time visitors to Cuba, all the male attention, comes as something of a shock.
Havana has its own beauty in the rain – The big puddles that mirror the buildings. The kids skidding around playing in the rain. But it also has its limitations. Sometimes in truly unexpected ways.
Her movements sure and quick as she applied another layer of the nail polish. Not once had she looked up, not acknowledged his presence in any way. But she knew he was looking. He was sure of it.
Every day Pedro gets up as soon as daylight starts seeping in around the rickety door frame. He sleeps in the front room of his sisters apartment in Centro Havana. He goes to the patio, has a good wash and combs his grey curls. Gracias a dios , he still has his hair, he reflects. […]
His voice was load and clear and his back straight. The other viejos were busy rummaging through the pile of second-hand clothes on top of the big table in the corner. By no means a quiet activity. Competition was fierze, especially the ladies were keen to get hold of one of the few colourful items […]
