Side Note: Euchre really is the Great Canadian Game. Almost every Canadian at the resort had a pack of cards and they ALL know how to play. We also learned how to play Slapjack which is a very violent game, very painful but very fun.
Now the important part. The Food. How to describe the food? Horrible? Terrible? Complete Pap? Yes I think those just about cover it. It was bland. It was over cooked. And it was the same thing every single meal. Lunch was indistinguishable from Dinner. Breakfast was the exact same thing every day. The bread was bad, the eggs over cooked, the bacon not cooked enough. Now I understand that in a Communist Country like Cuba they don't have the same access to foods that we have. But I like to think that I know food. And I know that the food could have been great. They had a pretty good variety of ingredients they just need a lot of cooking lessons.
But tell me, is this the face of a happy woman?
By the end of the week we were both happy and sad to leave. Happy because - well, my own bed and fridge and the boys.
Sad because we had to leave this:
The flight back was longer than the trip down because we had to go pick up some people in another part of Cuba. We got another good meal that we forgot to take a picture of. It was Lasagna Florentine. The Flight attendants joked that it was good food because it was one of the few meals that they would eat. I am sure that I would think it was bad if I got it in a restaurant but after a week of blech it tasted great.
Customs were easy with no lines and we got our luggage pretty quickly. There was a bit of Drama when two guys started a fist fight at baggage Claim but Airport Security busted that up pretty quick. Our shuttle was at the airport within minutes of being called and we were on the road home. The Husband drove and I slept. I had to work in the morning and he didn't. (lucky guy!)
1 comment:
I found you site through Sugar Low. Your posts on Cuba brought back a lot of memories--I was there in 2000 for a writers conference--both loved and hated it; both was thrilled and sad to come back home. The towel animals! My hotel did those too.
I did have some good food there, but it was chancy--you couldn't tell by the look of the restaurant. Maybe the best meal was at an illegal restaurant in someone's house--they were called something like paladeros, not sure of the spelling. Also, bizarrely, I found a French bakery that had great croissants and such--obviously just for tourists, since the prices were so high.
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