{"id":5483,"date":"2014-03-23T11:13:48","date_gmt":"2014-03-23T09:13:48","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/flyingcigar.de\/?p=5483"},"modified":"2014-03-23T11:58:11","modified_gmt":"2014-03-23T09:58:11","slug":"vinales-fun-with-frank","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/flyingcigar.de\/startseite\/vinales-fun-with-frank\/","title":{"rendered":"Vi\u00f1ales Fun With Frank"},"content":{"rendered":"

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\"nfcSweaty, tired but happy and a bit tipsy, that’s how we arrived shortly before sunset at Los Jazmines, the hotel over-looking the dramatic Vi\u00f1ales valley.<\/span><\/p>\n

Frank had never been here and I wanted to pack all this into his dramatically strike-shrunk agenda.<\/span><\/p>\n

He was sportsman enough to agree not to cancel the planned trip and I am sure now that he enjoyed the time out from Havana tremendously.<\/span><\/p>\n

After another beer and some pictures it was downslope the curves into Vi\u00f1ales, park the car, get our rooms at the Casa I always stay in, we decided against a shower and proceeded to take a walk up the main street of this one-horse village.<\/span><\/p>\n

As we passed by the Polo Monta\u00f1ez Centro Cultural ( or : Casa de la Musica ) by the church, I went in with Frank and we had another cold Cristal there. <\/span><\/p>\n

I asked about reserving a table for the nightly show and, of course, the answer was : No, it’s not possible – which\u00a0 <\/span>then turned quickly into a : which table would you prefer, sir – with the passing of a few cookies.<\/span><\/p>\n

OK, so we had a table.<\/span><\/p>\n

Back down the main street, we had a few more beers at the second, smaller music place there before going back to the Casa and getting an appetite seeing the prawns being prepared for us.<\/span><\/p>\n

Too winded up to shower, so a succulent dinner ( remember we were full from the pig lunch at Hector’s ) of delicious river prawns large as lobsters.<\/span><\/p>\n

Never mind Campana overcharged us next morning for it, I’d pay double now to get my hands on them.<\/span><\/p>\n

So it was evening and we moved over to take in the show. <\/span><\/p>\n

Surprise, our table was taken by a very<\/b> large Evander Holyfield look-alike, one eye half closed and hands as large as a shovel. <\/span><\/p>\n

Cristal courage made me brave and I asked him WTF he was doing at my<\/b> table. <\/span><\/p>\n

He meekly drawled out something like : Me was jus’ doin’ som takin’ care of youse table, my man, no worries – so I invited him to join us and have some beers with\/on us, which he kindly agreed to.<\/span><\/p>\n

Believing he was a regional foreigner ( Haitian ?? ) I asked Jorge WTF a language the big guy was babbling.<\/span><\/p>\n

Well, Jorge explained that the guy was a local Pi\u00f1are\u00f1o guy and they were justly known and famous for being too dumb to speak.<\/span><\/p>\n

According to a Havana legend only 5% of the Pi\u00f1are\u00f1os are smart enough to think … <\/span><\/p>\n

Well, I kept that <\/b>piece of information to myself so as to not offend Mr Holyfield who looked like a true Pi\u00f1are\u00f1o specimen of the 95% sort and we became friends. <\/span><\/p>\n

Especially tight friends after he arranged for a few of his girl-friends to keep us company at the table so as to keep all the other girl-friends from bothering us. <\/span><\/p>\n

Worked out peaches & cream. <\/span><\/p>\n

We took in the show, enjoyed a few more beers, took the usual : “Look guys, we’re in Cuba with the locals” pictures and round’bout midnight were back in our Casa, fully loaded but laughing and having good fun.<\/span><\/p>\n

Especially Jorge and Frank – so it was some more beer and a cigar on the porch of the Casa watching the stars while listening to the gossip being exchanged between the Casas.<\/span><\/p>\n

Hell, we had no plans other than sleep and see the caves next morning.<\/span><\/p>\n

Sleep we did. <\/span><\/p>\n

Breakfast was good and included Aspirin and after Jorge had done the required automotive inspection and breathed in some gasoline odours, we set off for the Cueva del Indio.<\/span><\/p>\n

Frank went in with a group of German Ossi Krauts and, being the only strange face in the group heard a woman in the group remark to the guide in German : He is NOT<\/b> with us !!<\/span><\/p>\n

To which Frank replied in his best Frittendeutsch : But I have paid<\/strong> just the same !! <\/span><\/p>\n

Silence and no more bitching from the Ossi-German Ostfront.<\/span><\/p>\n

Jorge and I spent 45 minutes outside the cave nursing our headaches with Guarapo and rum waiting for Frank. <\/span><\/p>\n

Unfortunately, there was no organ-cutting-up guy inside the cave and Frank came out alive and kicking ( we had told him that he should kiss his liver, kidneys and anything of value good-bye in the cave ) and wanting another Guarapo & rum with us.<\/span><\/p>\n

We then retired for a quiet cafe con leche and a cigar at Los Jazmines.<\/span><\/p>\n

Some more touristy pics were taken and a last look was had before hitting the Autopista back to Havana and our long missed Miramar house dragon, Sra Julia.<\/span><\/p>\n

I guess she was also surprised to see us back alive.<\/span><\/p>\n

Which, after all the luck Frank had so far was indeed a miracle.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

Nino<\/span><\/b>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

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