Day 1 – London to Havana

I didn't have a problem with the one hour delay or the fact that when I lowered my tray on the plane it fell into three pieces, but the realisation that of the 12 movies being shown only two were not utter crap and that I may have to endure a Jason Statham film just to get through the flight had me seriously contemplating opening the exit door at 35,00ft.

Having watched Monsters (very good) and The Others Guys (very funny), a documentary on the American education system (yes really) and The Expendables (Jason Statham and Sylvester Stallone, please note the title) I was more than ready for the flight to end – I am sure someone told me that Virgin Atlantic was a decent airline? It is not.

After 10 hours I was mercifully reeled into the third-world, poverty-stricken capital of Cuba. We passed through security in record time – the record being the longest, slowest-moving queue on the planet, beating the record previously held by Simon Cowell when he offered music fans the opportunity to beat him with a rubber truncheon.

That hurdle passed we moved onto baggage reclaim where I expected to have to battle through the cobwebs that had by now engulfed all luggage from flight VS065. I need not have worried, as luck would have it my bag didn't arrive and as I walked to the lost luggage counter wondering how I could get to Richard Branson's island to choke him on his own beard – I found my bag. It seems that one of the pensioners from my flight (there were many on their way to all inclusive resorts – all you can eat, all you can drink, all the staff you can abuse) had mistaken my backpack for his suitcase, had pulled it from the conveyor belt, realised his error and then simply kicked it back under the belt. Cheers for that.

Three hours after landing (that's communism for you) we had finally got out of the airport and were in a taxi into town. We arrived into Havana and decided a beer and some food was needed before bed as it was 4.30am. Imagine my unbridled joy as the moment I sat down two fellas with guitars and bongo drums sat on the opposite side of my table and began to serenade Ciara and I.

Cuba is not quite as cheap as I imagined, the bill for our first meal came in at just over £55, however that did cover four beers, two pizzas, damage to an acoustic guitar and the surgical removal of a bongo from a serenader's derrière.