Jenny felt nauseous the night before, so went to bed early. I chatted with Adel and the wan who helps in the house (a portly, hilarious woman who has no filter), laid on the roof and watched the stars, and went to bed around 11. Stomach problems continued throughout the night, and at 4am Jenny told me a friend claimed that traveling to Africa gave her Celiac disease. I'm pretty sure this claim is ridiculous, but it triggered worries so I didn't sleep the rest of the night. I rose at 5:30 and shot a very detailed email to my doctor, trying to figure out how serious my stomach problems are. I also did some googling and am pretty sure it's a bad case of travelers diarrhea and not anything worse.
Instead of taking a bus (which would have taken 10 hours) we decided to take a collective van (which takes 7.5 hours). This was a mistake. I don't have a photo of it, but it was a clown van, and not the church bus we were hoping for. It was a minivan, but not of the "grand" nature. Two people were in the van when it picked us up at 7am. I asked if anyone else would be joining us (surely not), and the curt, Vin Diesel-looking driver said "so, tres mas." Jenny and I were riding in the back, which meant we'd have another adult back there. In addition, the windows were tinted, making the van feel even smaller. I immediately felt claustrophobic and told the driver we wanted to get out and take the public bus (screw the sunk cost of the van). Unfortunately the bus had left 10 minutes earlier.
So, jenny and I claimed the front seat and middle seats in hopes we'd be ok. Our fellow travelers were very gracious and understood. Way to go Phillips family - panic attacks waiting to happen!
We picked up three more. An English guy (whose dad was stationed at Lakenheath Air Force base while our dad was there), said "but there's only room for two in the back," to which Vin Diesel said as if it were the unquestioned truth "no. Tres." And so began our day-long, cramped ride... Reaggaton (sp) constantly playing. I was fully prepared to get out and hitchhike if either jenny or I started wigging out. Anything would have been better than sitting in that thing for 8 hours. We actually saw tons of hitchhikers on the road, primarily at highway onramps. They were normal people - men and women in professional dress - holding out cash as incentive to be picked up.
But, we managed to make it without trouble. Jenny and I were wiped out by the time we got to Trinidad, so napped then ate at 5:30. Neither of us had eaten more than a couple bites that day. The house is beautiful. A plain exterior belies a large inside, with a large room with old furniture leading to a courtyard, and then the rooms (one on each floor, each with its own patio and on different levels).
The grandfather was hanging around and we chatted with him. He had worked as an engineer in a sugar mill for 42 years. It struck me that he was around during the revolution - he's Fidel's age. Very friendly, animated, and short of hearing. He's very content to eat, sleep early, and not travel. The house has been in his family since his great grandfather.
A huge thunderstorm struck around 7pm and lasted an hour. My first big storm since Alabama last September. I opened the windows and watched. I miss thunderstorms.
Jenny read in the Casa while I walked around town for an hour. It's beautiful town - cobblestone streets, every building from before 1850. There are tons of tourists, but that doesn't destroy the vibe. It reminds me of Parati, Brazil. Music is everywhere.
Mango every day!
Outside our casa's room in Trinidad, during rainstorm
Instead of taking a bus (which would have taken 10 hours) we decided to take a collective van (which takes 7.5 hours). This was a mistake. I don't have a photo of it, but it was a clown van, and not the church bus we were hoping for. It was a minivan, but not of the "grand" nature. Two people were in the van when it picked us up at 7am. I asked if anyone else would be joining us (surely not), and the curt, Vin Diesel-looking driver said "so, tres mas." Jenny and I were riding in the back, which meant we'd have another adult back there. In addition, the windows were tinted, making the van feel even smaller. I immediately felt claustrophobic and told the driver we wanted to get out and take the public bus (screw the sunk cost of the van). Unfortunately the bus had left 10 minutes earlier.
So, jenny and I claimed the front seat and middle seats in hopes we'd be ok. Our fellow travelers were very gracious and understood. Way to go Phillips family - panic attacks waiting to happen!
We picked up three more. An English guy (whose dad was stationed at Lakenheath Air Force base while our dad was there), said "but there's only room for two in the back," to which Vin Diesel said as if it were the unquestioned truth "no. Tres." And so began our day-long, cramped ride... Reaggaton (sp) constantly playing. I was fully prepared to get out and hitchhike if either jenny or I started wigging out. Anything would have been better than sitting in that thing for 8 hours. We actually saw tons of hitchhikers on the road, primarily at highway onramps. They were normal people - men and women in professional dress - holding out cash as incentive to be picked up.
But, we managed to make it without trouble. Jenny and I were wiped out by the time we got to Trinidad, so napped then ate at 5:30. Neither of us had eaten more than a couple bites that day. The house is beautiful. A plain exterior belies a large inside, with a large room with old furniture leading to a courtyard, and then the rooms (one on each floor, each with its own patio and on different levels).
The grandfather was hanging around and we chatted with him. He had worked as an engineer in a sugar mill for 42 years. It struck me that he was around during the revolution - he's Fidel's age. Very friendly, animated, and short of hearing. He's very content to eat, sleep early, and not travel. The house has been in his family since his great grandfather.
A huge thunderstorm struck around 7pm and lasted an hour. My first big storm since Alabama last September. I opened the windows and watched. I miss thunderstorms.
Jenny read in the Casa while I walked around town for an hour. It's beautiful town - cobblestone streets, every building from before 1850. There are tons of tourists, but that doesn't destroy the vibe. It reminds me of Parati, Brazil. Music is everywhere.
Mango every day!
Outside our casa's room in Trinidad, during rainstorm
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