Day 4 – Havana

Over the last couple of days I have visited the Museum of Cigars, which was little more than a collection of lighters in various dusty glass cabinets, the Museum of chocolate which was a cafe selling chocolate and the Havana City Museum which I had inadvertently got into without paying as I was mistaken for one of the 30-strong tour group than was in line in front of me.

Today I visited The Museum of the Revolution which tells how Fidel Castro, Camilo Cienfuegos and Che Guevara with the greatest and noblest of intentions wrestled the country from the American backed dictator Batista in 1959 and turned it into the thriving anti-capitialist state it is today – I am less convinced about the last bit, but the last thing I need to do is criticise a Communist dictator, I mean president. A considerable amount of memorabilia and rare photographs are accompanied by suitably bombastic communist captions; 'The inspired leader of the glorious revolution is contemplating in readiness to face the imperialist oppressors' when 'Fidel eating' would have done just as well.

The Museum of Modern art was equally impressive and at last I come across a building that not only has an air conditioning system but an air conditioning system that actually works. As if to show off this achievement the guy with the controller has set the temperature level to what would be required to freeze a pig's carcass.

In the evening, whilst attempting to find a restaurant that had been recommended (signs are only casually used) I walked into an acceptably shabby looking establishment only to be met by glass chandeliers, tuxedo wearing waiters and a piano player, before I can say 'I think I am in the wrong place, do you sell egg and chips?' the maître d' (they had one of those too) had whisked Ciara and I to a table and was inquiring as to which bottle of Champagne we would like.

This posed a major problem, namely, as I always do when I venture onto dimly lit streets in third-world countries, I was carrying approximately £14. After a lengthy perusal of the lower end of the menu and a close inspection of the coins that we had been accumulating we realised we could just about squeeze through it – as Susan Boyle said eyeing up a Kate Moss dress.

The food was fantastic, the service was impeccable and the speed at which we left the place (for fear our meagre tip would be outed) was nothing short of legendary.