 The
next morning I took breakfast with the family, which cost only three
dollars. After that I headed up town to hire a bike and look for the
nearest beach. When I arrived, it was utterly deserted. Looking out
to sea I began to think of the incredible history connected with these
waters. I imagined tall ships moored out in the harbour and the search
parties clambering ashore to find fresh water and supplies. Then of
course, there are the pirates and all their nefarious dealings…
I’d
brought a snorkel and mask with me and took off over some rocks
to find a good place to dive. Behind one outcrop I found a well
hidden local doing a spot of fishing. He gave me directions to the
best place to enter the water. I made my way in very gingerly and
pushed off. The water was rough and I felt somewhat intimidated.
Little by little my confidence grew and I managed to relax into
it. Soon I was marvelling at the coral and abundance of wildlife.
There was fish of every colour and shape and strange looking corals.
This was a new experience for me and I was speechless with the wonder
of it all. I spent the best part of an hour swimming underwater
and found the whole thing exhilarating.
I then
headed back to the beach to dry out in the sun. I got myself comfortably
laid out on the top of a wall and opened a book. In no time at all
the heat and earlier exertions had lured me into a deep slumber.
Some time later I was woken by the sound of a bus arriving. It was
full of baseball players who have come to practice on the beach.
I went off for a little more snorkelling and decided to call it
a day.
The
ride home was lovely. The sun had cooled a little and there was
a gentle breeze to guide me home. People were still working in the
fields, the very sight of which made me hungry. I arrived back at
the place where the bikes were hired and used my deposit to buy
a loaf and some cheese.
After
a humble dinner I visited Fran, the man I met on the ferry. Inside
his compound there was a crowd of people sat having their evening
meal. We chatted about many things and the recent behaviour of Tony
Blair. We questioned how the head of a so-called democracy was prepared
to engage in a war so clearly opposed by the majority of his people.
Of course, we knew the answer to be oil. One of the diners, whose
name I never caught was high on rum. He was loud and aggressive,
and totally out of sync with the discussion. He began to make me
feel uncomfortable and I decided to leave.
Returning
to the Casa I found Rey in good form. He too had taken to the rum
but was in a much better fame of mind-relaxed and contented. He
was curled up on the couch and looked like he’d melted into
it. We spoke of life, politics and religion. He told me that he
followed the creed of Saint Rey (no doubt his alter ego!) which
espoused belief in family, home and peace-all of which I truly believed.
The perfect example of a truly happy family man. I then wished him
good night and took myself off to bed, looking forward to visiting
the famous Presidio
De modelo (Prison where Castro was held for two years) in the morning.
The
views expressed on this page are those of the contributor and the
opinions expressed are not necessarily those of the BBC.
|
