Ohhhh, Havana!
Ohhhh, Havana!
Outdoor cycling – 13.99 km / Walking – 2.8 km / Outdoor cycling – 8,64 km
I’ve spent the past two days doing a lot of pedalling. It’s now 7 p.m., and I’ve finally managed to get a bit of rest since getting home. I had lunch (around four in the afternoon) and took a proper shower to wash away the heat clinging to me… Oh yes, very careless of me not to wear long sleeves this time—and with the worry and rush, I also forgot to put on sunscreen. A double failure. And now… someone pull the rabbits from the hat—this magic trick will be done in no time at all. I’m two-toned. Or three? Honestly, I’ve lost count.
**
Yesterday I covered 29 kilometres. That’s what my cycle computer said.
Here’s the route:
I dropped by Amanda’s to bring her some healing mangoes. They’ve all been struck down by a nasty cold—with mucus, coughs and high fever. And I thought: if the mangoes from my patio work on me, surely they'll work on them too. Then I headed through 100 avenue until I got to the turn that leads down to Boyeros avenue, which I followed all the way to the Ciudad Deportiva roundabout. I continued along 26 and reached Kohly residential district, looking for a Civil Registry office for Cubans born abroad (me 😃).
Someone there told me that yes, that office used to be there, but it no longer is. A very kind and well-mannered young woman explained where I should go now—to Vedado. Isn’t it lovely when people assist you with respect and kindness? I left with a smile on my face and headed to the next office, where the receptionist was the exact opposite. Still, she did inform me that I should return to carry out my procedure the next day, between 8 a.m. and noon. That would be today, Cuba time, 7:15 p.m.
You’ll see how long it takes me to write a post… but I write because these days matter. Well, all of them do. And if I have a space here to record them, why not? Perhaps my friends and readers are interested in my life. Or maybe they’d like to learn something about a different culture—or be inspired to take up cycling, which is marvellous for both physical and mental health.
😇
I made this collage yesterday after getting home and kicking off my shoes on the terrace. I sat there, letting my thoughts drift to lovely little things, watching the birds flit back and forth. Honestly, I was totally wiped out. 😂
Hold on… mentally, today’s outing was rather overwhelming because I couldn’t figure out whom to leave my bike with safely. I made several calls with no luck, until I had a brilliant idea along the way: to bother my honorary godmother’s daughter, who I also owed a visit. The last time she invited me for a coffee was when we went to Varadero… I shared that here on Hive quite a while ago... I wonder if there’ll be a trip to Varadero this year? She told me to stop by whenever I liked. And look how much time has passed. So the coffee happened today, after I sorted the paperwork. She even had a coconut pastry saved for me and told me where they’re sold. They’re delicious—the pastry was just the right texture, as puff pastry ought to be. I think I’ll pick some up in the coming days.
The procedure… What I expected to be quick turned into a long walk—you can see it in the first photo—as I had to head to “another Civil Registry”. The clerk who took my information to request my birth certificate explained that to correct two mistakes in my grandparents’ names, I’d have to bring my mother’s birth certificate either Friday or next Monday. Though I suspect Friday, as the process there seemed quicker. So, I had to request my mother’s document elsewhere, and that will take 20 days. Meaning I won’t be able to make the correction on Monday—and certainly not Friday.
Luckily, Mamani has a copy and will send it to me tomorrow or the day after so I can get a head start on that issue. These things are simply beyond me… You’d think that if I hand over my paperwork and flag the mistake, she could simply check my mother’s record in the system and sort it out, wouldn’t you? Surely we’re not asking for the moon—just for the system to work, for once.
Or perhaps I’m just being naïve—believing everything should be straightforward… or maybe all this bureaucracy is a way to keep people occupied with paperwork instead of thinking about other things.
This street vendor has in his cart: mangoes, sweet potatoes, malanga (taro), onions, tomatoes, and bananas.
Sigh... 😒
Ah… and now they’ve switched off the electricity. I’m absolutely melting in here without a fan, with the sun still radiating out of my pores… I’m heading out to the terrace to keep writing—there’s no enduring this room. I’ve got four hours to write—that’s how long until the power returns. My laptop battery should last roughly that long… ha! But don’t worry, I’m nearly finished. Not much more to tell… or maybe there is.
I went to the sea—or rather, to the coast. On the way home I passed through Miramar, sent Enraizar a photo of where I was, and took another from a different angle. It’s the clock at Fifth Avenue and Tenth Street. Something I’ve always found beautiful.
I’ve never taken my camera there to photograph the famous yaquis of that area… not even today, as I didn’t get that close.
Honestly, I was exhausted and very hungry. At home, a fish broth, rice, carrot and boiled plantains were waiting for me. My mouth was watering just thinking about it… so I pedalled the last stretch with the energy I had left—which was just enough to climb the hill at 70.
😄
I got off at the entrance to the ecological park and took a moment to look around that quiet spot.
It had good energy, though. I felt like sitting down to eat something, have a malt or a beer… but, as I said in a previous post, it rains nearly every afternoon. I’m almost fully recovered from the flu—just an occasional cough—but my spirits are at 100%… and my lunch was waiting at home.
The idea remains… Monte Barreto, forest, picnic… when the chance arises, because these paperwork-filled days are intense. And there’s a trip forming on the horizon—to Pinar del Río, to dig up more information about my Spanish great-great-grandfather, who apparently had five children in that city in the island’s west, and baptised them all there.
Stay close—because the story of my Spanish roots is coming too. And that will involve a fair bit more walking and pedalling…
