The landlord started our day by telling us that we could not keep our bags in his house, since he intended to go out of town, and had no idea of when he'd return. This has never happened to any of us, anywhere in the world. After some arguing, we agreed to leave our bags in the house until noon, and decided to walk around the neighborhood until then.
We walked over to the shoreline, ate some sesame thingos Hadas had bought at the market, and sat depressed at the stairs to a large, ugly apartment complex next to the shoreline. Sometime during the walk back to the casa we managed to lift each others spirits.
We took our bags, now extra heavy with presents, and left without saying goodbye. After walking for 2-3km, we reached Copelia, and decided to check if the Habana Libre hotel has facilities for storing luggage for a couple of hours. The clerk told us that the service is only for hotel guests, but encouraged us to try anyway and directed us to the storage room. There, we were once again told the service is only for hotel guests. Since we were such nice people, however, an exceptional exception could be made. For a small price. Of course. Too depressed and tired to mention Marx, Fidel or Che, we gave the money and left the hotel to mope a bit.
After deciding to make the best of the little that was left, we chose to go hunt China Town. Yes, there's a China Town in Habana, Cuba. Statistically, I guess, this shouldn't come as such a big surprise. Once again, Gilad had the insane idea of walking the 3-4km it takes to get from Copelia to China Town, which is just to the west of the capitol. During the walk we desperately searched for coffee to buy as presents, which we only found in a convenience store in China Town itself.
It should be noted that there aren't many Chinese in Habana's China Town, but we did manage to spot a couple. The restaurants here are like in any China Town the world over (excluding China, of course). Hadas ate a very large and tasty meal in one of these places. We payed in peso, but the meal was large, as opposed to most restaurants in Cuba.
As you probably noticed, we don't have any pictures of China Town, and I'm really getting tired of writing "China Town", by the way. The reason we don't have any pictures is simple. The night before, I placed the camera's battery in the charger, and forgot to take it out. We discovered this when trying to take a picture. This naturally took place just as we were beginning to enjoy ourselves. The fact that I can write this today is only due to the lack of sharp objects in the vicinity of Hadas at that time.
After the camera fiasco, we decided to walk back to the Viaje quarter and finish shopping for presents. This took a couple of hours. During the last part, I decided to sit and rest and let Hadas do the shopping, which led to some interesting results.
We were then ready to take our regular bus back to Copelia. The picture below was taken near that bus station, but at a different day, since we didn't have a working camera at the time. The strange device pictured is the famous "Coco-Taxi", which is really just a scooter living inside a yellow igloo, or something.
The first time we went from Habana to the airport, it cost us 25$ for a taxi. The second time around, it cost less than 0.5$, including a we-don't-need-anymore-money-so-here's-a-big-tip expense.
After taking our bags at the hotel, we started asking the locals which bus travels to the airport. A couple of nice girls not only told us it was P-6, but took us to the bus stop. It took the bus a long time to come, by which time we were getting a bit nervous. The bus arrived just as I suggested we take a taxi.
The bus ride took about an hour, but wasn't unpleasant. We found a good place to stand with our bags pretty early, and several individuals volunteered to tell us when to get off. We also suspect one of them volunteered to carry our wallet for us, but we can't be sure. Ups and downs. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Now, as we knew in advance, the bus doesn't reach terminal 3, which is for international flights. There is no bus going to this terminal, since all tourists are rich and like to travel in taxis. So, after getting off the bus, our plan was to go and ask some people for the direction to the terminal, and walk the 2 km from terminal 2 to terminal 3. As it happened, some nice people, all working at the airport, were waiting in a bus stop for an internal shuttle, and they ushered us into the first bus that passed by. We're not sure, but we think tourists aren't supposed to go on this bus, since everyone else was wearing a uniform. In any case, Hadas payed the driver the last of our money - 10 pesos. It took her a while to explain that we don't need the 8-9 pesos the driver wanted to give us back.
We arrived at the airport about 3 hours before the flight. At the time we didn't think too much of the fact that there was already a large line waiting for check-in. Instead, we focused on arranging out bags, and that's when we noticed that we couldn't find our wallet. Eventually we gave up looking, and, once again depressed, went to the end of the line.
It was a long line.
Nearly three ours before takeoff.
And we were last in line - no one came after us.
It turns out that Iberia had dozens of over-bookings. Most people were in organized groups and had somehow heard in advance to expect problems. By the time we reached the check-in counters, dozed of passengers had already been transferred to other air-lines. We were left waiting for a miracle with a German couple, and a French person who turned out to be a Hebrew speaking Jew who visits Israel every year.
Eventually, only one more sit was available, which was given to the young French. We were off to Habana's best hotel, or so we were told, at 11PM. Supper was naturally over by the time we got there. I was starved by then, but we were promised a meal would be given to us in our room. Habana's best hotel or not, I didn't get to eat until 1:00 AM.
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