April Sun in Cuba

We flew into Havana on the eve of Easter for 11 days cruising around Cuba with Sarah and Victoria from NZ. I was primed for all the stereotypes - faded buildings, vintage American cars, mojitos and old men playing son music on the streets (admittedly for me at least, all the research I had done was to watch a cigar-making DVD and rent out Buena Vista Social Club again).

However beyond the faded buildings and colonial Spanish architecture lurks an uneasy double economy - the Cuban convertible peso (official tourist currency) v moneta nationale (national currency) - at a ratio of 25:1. Federico, the host of our casa particulare (guesthouse) in Havana used to be a lawyer - the reason he now rents out rooms in his house is that he earns more from us for one night's board than he earned in one month as a lawyer. While this issue was to dog us all the way around the island, we did manage to obtain some local currency and tried to use it where we could. Shaun also decided to practice acting like a local whenever possible.

After 3 days in Havana we hired one of the smallest cars available and set out for a long road trip around the western half of Cuba. Almost every 5km on the roads are amazing graphic art billboards extolling the virtues of the revolution. We all took photos of so many - these are some of the more successful examples of the 'hang out the window on a driveby' photo series.

One of the highlights of the week on the road was Vinales, tobacco growing central and home of Esther and Domingo - the hosts of our casa, mean chefs and the makers of the best mojitos in Cuba (the secret is apparently a drop or two of Angostura bitters). I have now developed a taste for bean soup - and creole sauce added liberally to either pork, chicken or lobster as a main course. Quite happy, however, never to see another guava again.

I was sure there would be some fantastic propaganda waiting for us at the Bay of Pigs. While there was only one museum and not much else on the invasion, there was, however, amazing snorkelling with beautiful tropical fish in only 1 foot of water just off the beach.

Another surprise was the Zapata nature reserve nearby - where we did a walk with a local guide spotting native and migratory birds, watched crabs scuttle across the road in the morning on their way back to the beach and stalked the season's last remaining flamingoes from the safety of our car... Having worked up an appetite, we also visited the government-run crocodile farm - surprisingly, having held the farm's pet crocodile for photos I was still able to stomach the prospect of crocodile for dinner that night (with the obligatory creole sauce - see below).

Our turnaround point was Trinidad - a UNESCO preserved Spanish colonial city dating back to the days of the sugar plantations in the late 1700s. After the pot-hole studded drive in over the mountains, the city appears out of nowhere. The houses are right on the street and from that level there appear to be hardly any trees, just houses, cobblestones and sky. We stayed in a beautiful old colonial casa with huge high studs and an airy courtyard and got some lessons in Cuban rhythm from a very patient local salsa teacher ...

Diverting off the airport runway-like autopista (motorway) on the long drive back to Havana, we made an overnight pilgrimage to Che Guevara's tomb in Santa Clara -which features the obligatory communist parade square-style architecture. There was also time for a quick diversion to check whether the beaches at Varadero - home of package tourism - were better than the ones we'd been stopping at along the way. Conclusion: there are beaches which are just as nice in other parts of Cuba (see first photo below) - but Varadero is a nice spot to play dominoes in the sun.

Back in Havana for one final afternoon we decided to spend the last of our convertible pesos on a cruise in a 1956 Chevy along the Malecon, with some cheesy poses at the Hotel Nacionale before getting on the plane. Hasta luego Cuba!

M

And spring has sprung ...

Suddenly there are daffodils all through the parks and sun in the sky. Just the day for a picnic in St James' Park with Angus and Jamie, with cheese and biscuits courtesy of Fortnum and Masons (and the rest of the picnic courtesy of Marks and Spencers - having been scared off the rest of the prices at Fortnum & Masons).

M

Testing the elements

Time to put our hard pants back on for some serious weather. We decided to head to Finland to check out some Scandinavian delights; snow, er .. snow, and World Cup ski jumping.

First up was 2 days' skiing in a small resort called Messila near the ski-jumping venue at Lahti - 100km north of Helsinki. Given the generally low-lying hills in Finland this suited me fine as a bit of a beginner - with pretensions of intermediate on a good day. Shaun managed to find some boots to fit him (and some reindeer with mashed potatoes for dinner) and we were good to go.
On the Saturday night we bundled up and headed across to the ski-jumping international teams event. After a close battle between some of the world's best, the Finnish team narrowly lost out to some high-flying Austrians. Fantastic.

Apart from the jumping, crowd highlights were the ready availability of hot sausages wrapped in paper with mustard for snacks and - the cheerleaders (?) I am also happy to report on the faithful observance of a time-honoured sporting ritual - yes, even a World Cup ski-jumping event in sub-zero temperatures attracts streakers .. (see below).

Overall a great event and highly recommended. On Monday morning we headed to Helsinki to be met by unrelenting snow. The city seems like a good place to explore but, given the weather, we decided to go on a relaxing cruise out on the harbour.

Our destination was Suomenlinna - a sprawling military fortress built on six linked islands in the Helsinki harbour and (now that we have been to the audiovisual display on the island (nice and warm)) we can report that the fortress - built by Sweden in 1748 to contain the Russian expansion - was essentially the reason the city of Helsinki was born. Its an interesting place full of history - and a lot of snow.

M

Knights, schoolboys and Jane Austen ...

...all in a day's work at Winchester.

Getting tired of the city we decided to do one of the day trips that SouthWest Trains advertises so alluringly on its website - no car required. So, off to Winchester - home of a very large cathedral (or possibly 'minster' - there is some English distinction which still escapes me), the oldest boys' school in the country and a dubious Round Table.

The cathedral itself is impressive - featuring the longest nave in Europe, some very angelic choristers and the resting place of Jane Austen. Presumably they did know she was a writer, although there's no mention of it on her memorial stone. A very short walk away is the house where she very conveniently died - requiring all of a 200m walk to the cathedral where she's buried.

Just around the corner is Winchester College - the oldest boys school in England with some very impressive playing fields and buildings. As the scheduled tour guide didn't show up we got a tour from the head of security who gave us some official and unoffcial stories that the college's publicity people may or may not have been keen on. Oddly they don't play rugby at all, but a hybrid historical game called "winkies" - dating from the 1400s. As no-one else in the world plays winkies the college is forced to play only internal winkies tournaments.

Across town is what is reputedly The Round Table (of King Arthur and the .. fame). Historians are suspicious, however, as although it is undeniably round, wooden and apparently old enough, with the names of the knights painted on it, there are odd features like a Tudor Rose and a painting of King Arthur who looks suspiciously like Henry VIII. Still, worth a look and we now have a further kitschy fridge magnet to add to our growing collection.

On the outskirts of Winchester is a bit of a highlight - a National Trust old water-powered mill, rebuilt in the mid-1700s, recently restored to full working order and grinding its own stoneground flour for sale. Staffed by some universally pensionable and very friendly volunteers, they started the mill up and gave us a full tour.

Time for an arty shot of the millrace and waterwheel ... and the local wildlife outside.

Finally after an exhausting day we ended up at the Wykeham Arms for cider and - in a stroke of luck - in time for the pub's daily "sausages for 50p" deal - a sausage on a plate with mustard to go with your beer. All in all an excellent Sunday antidote to the rigours of London. Thanks SouthWest Trains.

M

Shimmy like da Sphinx ...

Having had a work trip to Cairo extended by a few days Michaela decided on a whim to fly over and join me.

There was time to explore the city and surrounds, including taking in some local flavours such as apple tobacco and pigeon soup. I'm not sure what was more detrimental to my health, the shisha pipe or breathing in the Cairo smog.

The city itself is clustered around the Nile on the edge of the desert, with the pyramids at Giza able to be seen from the centre of the city. Of course once you get to the pyramids you have the touts to deal with (and elsewhere the Tourism Police to give baksheesh to for helping out).

This was the first trip to Africa for both of us, but after this taster it will certainly not be the last.

S

Snow!

About a whole month late, but it's here. All of it, and all at once. This is definitely the first time I've trudged through powder wearing a suit. The news websites are not quite sure whether this is the biggest single snowfall in 6 years or 18 (to be confirmed at some point I expect, probably once it stops snowing). Either way it is lots of fun. Yippeee

My favourite is the guy on the right (daffodil eyes, turnip nose and string beans for hair, on closer inspection)

M

Sweet moves on the ice

After we each made blink-and-you-miss-it visits home for 2 weddings and freely available beaches, mussels and sunshine - there was going to have to be a fairly good next adventure waiting back in the UK.

I'm not sure how well it matched up against the beach but ice skating on the outdoor rink at Somerset House definitely offered more scenic surroundings than my one and only other ice skating attempt - at 'Paradice' in Auckland aged 14. I'm not sure my technique has improved any but the good old mulled wine afterwards was a definite improvement. Paradice, if you're listening, this could be a go.

M