The next day we visited the Museu Romantica; this was the town house of a sugar plantation owner and is filled with magnificent European and Cuban furnishings; although not actually belonging to this property, the furnishings are very similar to those that would have been there. We were fascinated, both by the house with its central court yard and its contents and we were very quickly joined by an employee who did her best to give details of the different pieces such as the period of manufacture and material used and spent a good hour, if not more, in there. 
The older parts of town are well preserved with its mixture of Moorish flavoured, Neo-Classical and Baroque(according to the literature)architecture with pastel painted walls and ornamental railings, red tiled roofs and cobbled streets which we wondered around until we were too hot and bothered to do anything but visit la playa, or the beach, but at 12 km’s away 
this involved either a bus or taxi. Our host had given us approximate times and told us to catch it by the red light! His translation was a bit out as we had to catch a red bus by a red stop sign! Having eventually found the correct corner and a wait of just 10 minutes we were on our way to the Caribbean. As soon as we got on we bumped into Jason who was heading the same way. I felt a bit guilty not inviting him to sit with us, but I would not have been comfortable and would not really have relaxed but it was pleasant to see him again at the end of the day. He had just missed the 5.15 bus which had arrived early and had ignored his pleas to wait. We were going to catch the same bus but another tourist had asked Paul if he would keep an eye on his stuff while he went back to the hotel and he still hadn’t arrived back in time for us to catch this bus, but we were happy to sit and watch the sun go down then have a beer and wait for the last bus at 7.15.Shortly after the other tourist returned and I said something like ‘we thought you had got lost’, he then joined our little group where we began a discussion on world politics regarding Cuba, and very entertaining it was too! He was German and classed himself as both a communist and middle class – I should have challenged him on that
one – and proceeded to tell Jason, and us, that most Americans are really quiet stupid, mainly because of their wasteful lifestyles, lack of recycling and attitude towards Cuba and Cubans taking advantage of the ‘wet foot/dry foot’ policy. Luckily Jason was not offended and agreed with a lot of sermon, as did we. If we do not look after our planet, cease the greed and stop the plunder, the planet will eventually become uninhabitable. By this time, the sun had gone down and it was starting to get quiet dark. We packed up our stuff and made our way to the bus stop but at only 6.40 we had a 35 minute wait so it was off to the bar and the inevitable beer but just after settling down the bus arrived a good 20 minutes early and we only just made it round the corner in time.
After a shower and change of clothes we headed for the rooftop terrace to find a couple, who were clearly renting the second room and just finishing their evening meal; Mabel (pronounced Ma Bel, as she is Argentinean) and Kobus who is her South African husband. The next morning, they were just finishing breakfast as we arrived for ours and told us just a little bit about themselves. Both now living and working in Cambridge, they are over here for just one week to escape the cold English weather.
Later that morning, as we were making our way to the internet café, we bumped into them 
again and after discussing various tourist entertainment options we decided to share a taxi for a trip up the valley to view one of the sugar plantation sites. This particular site has the original owners’ hacienda, now a restaurant and shop, but also the site of a tower. Legend has it that there were two brothers who were in competition so 
when one built a tower the other said he would dig a well. In reality it is more likely that the tower was built to keep an eye on the slaves forced to work in the cane fields and from the top of the tower one can view the entire valley and, I would
guess, any slave either slacking or trying to escape! Our new Argentinean friends first language is, of course, Spanish, so we, or should I say she, negotiated with the driver of a 1954 Pontiac to chauffer us up the valley, stop for a drink, then up to the site of the plantation followed by a visit to a pottery before finally dropping us back in town. The total cost was 25 cuc, shared between the two couples, but we think he probably got a commission from all of the places that he took us to.
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