My second visit, yesterday, with the dentist, turned out to be also the last. All done, within 3 days. In my previous blog, I thought that I still owed for the permanent crown but, no, that was all included in the filling and the temporary $ 375.
So, with that done, I want to say good bye to Cuba. I am pleased to have finally visited Havana, which eluded me in the 2017 Cuba visit. I enjoyed the calm and pastoral setting of the N.E. corner of Cuba at Puerto de Vita. But I am tired of the depressing mess this country is in, the long bread lines, the limited internet, the constant political propaganda in roadside signs on the walls on and in every public building and on the radio.
But the people are all very hospitable and friendly.
On my way to the dentist, yesterday, I cycled through some very nice old residential districts on the higher elevations of Havana and an area with some very attractive school and university campuses.
My visa needs to be extended from this Saturday. It requires $25 worth of postal stamps. After much asking for directions to a post office, they did not have this much in stamps to sell, next post office, I was 2nd in line but still takes 20 minutes of waiting. Everything goes in slow motion. Just to get my maximum three hours of internet in scratch cards, it takes an hour of waiting in line. So, when I got back to the immigration office and waiting 20 minutes, I was told to purchase medical insurance for the extra days of my visa extension. This is downtown Havana, that is my chore for today.
My sister has sent me 500 euros by courier. But it turns out that it is not going to be here until February 10 or later. Part of it was supposed to pay the sailmaker for repairs to two of my head sails. I have asked my sister to try and have the envelope returned to her. It is hanging in Madrid right now.
And I came to a barter deal with the sailmaker to pay him with my folding bike and one of my two $20 bills I have left. I part from it with much reluctance of all the bikes I have gone through, starting with my 1966 5 speed derailleur custom made in Brussels road bike, which lays on the bottom of an Bora Bora anchorage since August 2005, a Vietnamese road bike stolen on Borneo in 2006, a Balinese road bike stolen in Durban, my first folding bike gifted by Bob Ellsworth in 2008 stolen in Puerto Rico in 2009, a 2009 birthday gift West Marine folding bike from Greg and Marlys Clark that went down with the good ship FleetWood I in the Med in 2013. Roger Rue’s folding bike he gifted me just after his 80th birthday in 2014 and shortly before his death, stolen in full daylight locked at the Arabella’s Marina in Gig Harbor The successor purchased in 2009 and exchanged in Pt. Townsend, was my next to favorite bike, it was destroyed in the 2017 stranding in Virginia. So, this 8 speed folding bike was number 9 since 2005.
We have an other cold front slam the coast here this weekend. With a little luck I’ll be on my way by Tuesday. Stay tuned.
Thursday afternoon: I took the #7 bus into downtown Havana for my 15 Pesos (60 cents)
I purchased the medical insurance good until February 15th, cost was $80. This cleaned me out of my pesos and I had no Dollars or Euros to buy pesos with, so, instead of getting 7,500 pesos for cash $100, I got 2,500 pesos for a little over $100.
So, I arrive at the Immigration office before 3 pm and it is closed. The sign gives the official closing time as 5 pm on Thursday. Tomorrow and Saturday from 8 until noon. It was a long hot walk from the bus stop to the office and back. I was p…..ed. To get back from the Immigration office I waited for over an hour for the #7 bus and ended up getting in the most inexpensive big bus, packed like sardines, but worth the 2 pesos or eight (legal) dollar cents. So, guess what I get do tomorrow? Yes, right, delight in my favorite activity here. Go back for another run at the Immigration office, search for internet prepaid cards, and enjoy the last days of owning # 9 bike.