Explore The World

Time Travel

It’s like going through a time-warp. You feel as though you’ve got there by Tardis, not Thomas Cook! From the fascinating, bustling, colourful but crumbling towns like Havana and Trinidad, dating back to the 1500s, to the five utterly relaxing Biosphere Reserves, with over 130 species of birds and rare plants, Cuba is a country full of contrasts. It’s an incomparable place to visit.

I didn’t just go back five hours; I lost over 20 years!

It took me a few days to realise what was going on. I’m used to the Englishman’s blank expression as he stares right through my middle-aged, therefore invisible, boring, slightly sagging body, while he dreams of shaking hands with David Beckham and saying something really witty, or, secondly, Jennifer Lopez’ tongue sliding into his ear while he swigs his lager.

Soaking Up the Admiration

Cuban men aren’t lechers. They don’t leer. They admire. They compliment. They joke gently, not cruelly. Barmen and waiters aren’t cold, bored and distant. They enjoy their jobs. They’re welcoming. Genuinely. If you tip a Cuban waiter, you don’t get a forced ‘Thank you Madam.’ You get hugged and kissed!
Careful or you can run out of money very quick!

English Men are so Different!

I tried to take an Englishman’s photo and he put his hand up to my camera (a gesture that I detest) and hid his face. Our Cuban driver rested a hand on his shoulder and
said, ‘Come on, I’ll help you,’ and stood with him, flashing me a lovely smile.
They’re always willing to pose for a photo, and they do it so naturally. That’s the word. They’re natural.

Being Chatted Up

One morning I was one of the few people by the pool. An African-Cuban lad of about 20 smiled at me. Then he moved along nearer my sunbed. I went in the pool and he did a perfect dive, then waded up to me. I fled.

He had a drink and offered to get me one. I said no. The resident stray dog came to see me and I made a fuss of it. The lad called it over and made a big fuss of it, while smiling at me. (‘I love dogs.’) My friend and I went in the restaurant to eat. He was already there. The group played Chan Chan, my favourite Cuban song. ‘Oh I love Chan Chan!’ I called out. My suitor leaped up, rushed over to the group and played the maracas, looking at me for approval. Then he patted the baby near the stage. (‘I love children.’)
I went back to the pool and he emerged and walked straight up to me. ‘I’ve got to go to work now,’ he said, ‘But will you have dinner with me later?’ I said no. Nicely.

Friends’ reaction to this story has been, Oh he was probably after a passport. (Thanks a lot, ‘friends.’) But he wasn’t. He loved his job. He’s a medical assistant at the hotel, training to be a doctor. He genuinely fancied me, make-up free, wobbly stomach and all!

Perhaps I am not ready for a Toy Boy!

In my eyes though, he wouldn’t have just been my toyboy. I’d have felt like a paedophile! Imagine walking along, hand in hand with him. There are limits! (Giddy Limits!)

And guess what happened then? I blossomed. As I gained a tan, I also gained something else. What? Confidence perhaps? Charisma? More offers came. Quite a few to be honest.

Lucky Me!

At one hotel, the water-sports entertainer made a bee-line for me. My cheeky friend introduced us. He actually stood there, spinning a ball round on his finger, blowing kisses at me! ‘Why didn’t you fancy him?’ my friend asked, ‘He was good-looking, wasn’t he?’ Yes he was. And he knew it. He’d almost certainly been with some bimbo last week, who’d been with some bald lager-lout the week before, who’d been with… But you get the picture.

As I pointed out to my friend, it wouldn’t have been just him and me. There would have been at least 50 of us in that bed. What’s the odds of catching something permanent and itchy?  No thank you. But I could have had a passionate night with him if I’d wanted to. He wanted to.

Peeling Back the Years

I had more offers and chat-ups in 15 days than I’ve had in over 15 years. It did wonders for my morale.  Whatever I had has gone now. I’m back to being an invisible, middle-aged Cinderella. But I know that whatever I projected is still in there somewhere, waiting to pop out again with a bit of encouragement.

And I’m going back to Cuba on another Press Trip in September.
Watch this space!

For Information on How to Get There:

Cuba Tourist Board
154 Shaftesbury Avenue
London WC2H 8HL

www.travel2cuba.co.uk

www.autenticacuba.co.uk

Form an orderly queue!