Our Fire Island home in Sedona, AZ

We flew from Tulum, Mexico to Phoenix, AZ then had to drive 2 hours to Sedona in the dead of night... It was only 11pm local time when we arrived, but it was 1am for us coming from Mexico. Just before arriving at our new home I had to dodge a rather large deer running in the road, then we arrived at our octagonal wooden home which in true fire island style was unlocked as there are no keys around these parts.

Instead of sand dunes and a view of the ocean here we have views over the magnificent red rocks of Sedona

The house is owned by a French guy who is an artist (a sculptor) and did a great job decorating the house and the garden with his work.

He also has many pieces of art from friends that are rather interesting to say the least ... Ivy had me remove some from her room after she claimed they were scary! This piece hung over my bed head, looked like somebody on an LSD trip painted it one night

The one below... Ivy claimed was a lady spider

The house had a real fire island feel to it, I just wished we could have transported some of our friends here to enjoy it with us!

La Habana

 Impressions from this crazy city.... 

Luz 366 Habana Vieja

 A steep narrow staircase acents into our temporary home. The door opens through a wire contraption that can be pulled on the second floor. Everything is crumbling. Plants grow on our roof and the staircase to it is so rusty you wonder if you make it down again.

The family we stay with rents three rooms, high celings with air condition and a bathroom. On Calle Luz, in old Havana 5 blocks down from where the renovation has stopped. 

Our cuban hosts were extremely friendly and tried to make us feel at home. The woman (Yudy - pronounced Judy) had a 9 year old daughter (Amanda) who became Ivy's best friend immediately, Amanda's dad we never met as he was in China for 3 months on a job. There was always 2 older ladies helping with cooking, cleaning, babysitting and a guy who we never really figured out his connection with the family that was always around and drove an old taxi that took Amanda and Yudy everywhere.

Our house has an undetermined number of people living in it. You hear the shower through the wall, voices, TV, children crying and people arguing. But you don't see anyone. 

You are inside but you are not. You can see the sky high up through iron bars in the concrete roof above. When it rain the corridor gets wet down here.

On the balcony the view onto cinematic street life. No cars but people walking. Everybody knows everybody. Slice of pizza for barely any money. 

Little girls coming home from ballet. The convent across the street is now a school. A mother rolling a little boy on a makeshift stroller, a wooden board with 4 ball bearings. Fumigation going from house to house leaving white clouds of poisonous smoke. Young rebels with funny haircuts playing a game of baseball.

Welcome to Calle Luz 366 in Havana.

Ivy and Amanda

The view from our balcony

Breakfast @ calle Luz

Cadillac De Ville 1957

We needed a ride. 140 Miles from La Habana to Vingales. Four of us, three suitecases, one  crib and two stollers. A mini-bus was out of the questions. So Ivy and I went for a walk to Plaza Grande and looked around for a suitable car. And there we found him. An original 1957 Cadillac De Ville, chrome finishes, single bench front seat and a trunk to play football in. Of course with no seatbelts and air condition as those only came in favor after this car was built...Owner and driver Alfonso agreed to take us for 90 dollars. So we went, Ivy Connor, Nicola and me sharing the large backseat. Suspention was a dream, we made about 100 khm/h on the autopista, the electric windows were still working, the stereo was tuned to 80 music and we arrived in Vignales in about 3 hours. And when you arrive people look, they take photos, you feel like you are important. 

This is Cuba

 

The elevator in the best  hotel in town is broken and will not be repaired. The rooftop bar on the third floor is therefore closed. 

The doors to the balcony do not open in the hallway and do not close in the bedroom. The door to the room barely closes and the door of the closet has never been opened. When somebody showers in the next room it sounds like a train whistle. The bed has one tiny pillow and by the feel of it has been filled with crumbled paper. The sheets are stained.

The phone in the room can only dial reception. The phone in reception can only be dialed using a special code by the receptionist. A 30 sec call to the next town cost $1.20 but it takes 10 trials to get through. The internet computer costs $5 an hour but not much happens in that hour on your screen.

Nightstand lamps are rare but your room will be lit by bright energy saving fluorescent light. The aircondition makes the sound of a 737 at take-off and is either on or off and cannot be adjusted.

Cockroaches will live in the bathroom if you are lucky and in the bedroom if you are unlucky. The credit card machine in all hotels is broken and you can pay only in cash. You will not get a receipt. 

Taxis need to be shortwired to start. Taxi doors only open from the outside or never. Taxi drivers always stop at the next gas station to fill half a gallon of fuel in an empty tank before driving you anywhere. The taxi driver that dropped you off will wait for your return indefintely and hopelessly optimistic. 

The taxi driver will always have a friend that owns the best guesthouse in town and if you don't like it he will have another friend and another friend and another one. And one with the best restaurant as well.

Every car can be a taxi. A 30 year old polish Fiat 126 the size of a lawn mower is not too small of a car to be a taxi. Most taxi drivers pick up babymilk along the way and will deliver it 100 Miles later to their brother, cousin, friend or uncle. Bicycle cabs will insist on taking you home to your hotel including wife, two kids and two strollers. 

People stop on the highway and walk across the median to get a coffee at the rest station. But with literally no traffic anywhere it is safer than crossing a road in Brooklyn.

There are people on horse-drawn carriages on the highway, and grazing cows and men on horses with or without saddles and cyclists and thousands of crabs on yearly migration and police officers in broken Ladas and trucks from the old Soviet Union filled with sugarcane.

Taxi drivers will refuel their cars behind the farm next to the highway. Out of a barrel, between the chickens, pigs and cows.. Just to save 40 cents on a gallon of petrol. 

There are live bands in the corner of every restaurant that play the same 10 songs and will ask for a donation after three after you have refused to buy their CD. Toiletpaper is only available on request and you will be asked to pay for using a bathroom. 

A slice of pizza can cost 10 cents, 50 cents, 1 dollar or 3 dollar. Same with ice cream or beer. The bottlled

water is called 'tourist water'. There is no Coca Cola or Fanta or Pepsi or Magnum or Fritolays or Pampers or Budweiser or Axe or any global brand. But Aqua Pana for reasons unknown. Cheap rum can be purchased in a milk carton and is the same price as 'tourist water'.

All food comes with rice, cooked green beans and plantain chips with a tomato, cucumber and lettuce salad without dressing on the side. 

All banks require a wait time of minimum one hour. But there are cash machines. About 10 in the entire country. Mostly out of service. When working only dispensing 5 dollar notes which come in handy when you have to pay your 800 dollar hotel bill in cash...