Habana - Santiago

The taxi ride was awkward. He has us over-the-barrel, but he was much more chatty than anyone else we'd encountered in La Habana so I asked him questions. When we rode by the Plaza de la Revolución, he rolled our windows down – almost a salute.

The situation at the airport was complicated. With each hurdle, I wanted to breathe and relax. The plane to Santiago de Cuba was an old Russian prop plane. I could have been on one of the flights I used to do from Taiwan to the US as a young girl…de ja vous.

It was an hour and half flight. It surprised me to see mountains – sometimes we could see both coasts from our plane seats because the Island is so narrow.