Sunday, 2 September 2012


I call this photo "Our man in Havana." And by "Our Man" I mean a complete stranger who seemed harmless enough, but one never knows. You must always be relaxed on the outside and wired-for-bear on the inside when vacationing in foreign lands. We strolled this legendary but crumbling city for hours, marvelling at the historic tiled  buildings, the Spanish influences, the bars, the cars and the heady aromas wafting from busy kitchens. In a downtown backstreet, a man asked us for a cigarette; in turn we asked him to take a picture of us. He misunderstood and posed so that we could take a picture of him. Note to self: Attempt to learn at least some basic Spanish. This could have got ugly.