I know, I know, I left the story right when we arrived at TiaLourdes' house, just I saw my beloved aunt and almost showed her to you.
But then I thought maybe you should see some pictures I took on trip from Miami to the Cienfuegos airport to the house on the Prado.
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| When we arrived at our gate, I saw this and worried these nice people wouldn't be able to make it down the stairs when we landed in Cuba. Don't worry, they all made it fine, and most of them got out of the airport before I did. | | | | | | | | | |
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| We saved the chips from our flight, because we didn't really know when we'd be eating again. |
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| In line trying to leave airport -- no tourist info, and also, the men you see hard at work are moving broken equipment. Notice the nice lady in the picture kept her chips stashed in her purse. I think she's been to Cuba before. |
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| Our taxidriver eating the chips we brought him from the airplane. | . | | I know you can't tell how small the car is from this picture, now can you see how scary the motorcycle-hore-bus-militaryconvoy traffic is. Sorry. |
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| I love this building -- I'm thinking it was built during the 20s when Cuba's economy danced with millions of sugar and rum soaked dollars. |
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| This is the view from the taxi (stopped in traffic, blocking traffic) in front of TiaLourdes' house on the Prado. The street pre-dates cars and is at just the right height to let passengers out of horse drawn carriages step over the muck that must have rolled along the streets 150 and 100 years ago. | Side note: Despite the fact this door looks yellow in this picture and is yellow in real life, I am still completely sure the door is red and every time I see it being yellow it looks wrong. |
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| This is the painting I was almost about to tell you about in the chapter I haven't written yet. |
