Once stayed in a tiny thirty room hotel in Cuba, at the end of a very long bumpy ride in the back of a workman's truck. I stood up up straight for the entire forty minute trip as it was packed with people standing up and there was no room to sit down. The truck didn't slow down as it dodged pigs and chickens and dogs that wandered in the road.
When I arrived at the hotel there was a recreation room where guests left books that they brought on vacation with them. One of the books on the table was, "The life of Grace Kelly." Before I could pick it up, the hotel manager came in to tell us our room was ready. So, with our suitcases in tow we followed the manager to our room.
That evening after a dinner of cuban black beans and roasted fish I went back to the recreation room, but the book was no longer on the table. Instead, we listened to a Cuban musician playing guitar that evening.
When I arrived at the hotel there was a recreation room where guests left books that they brought on vacation with them. One of the books on the table was, "The life of Grace Kelly." Before I could pick it up, the hotel manager came in to tell us our room was ready. So, with our suitcases in tow we followed the manager to our room.
That evening after a dinner of cuban black beans and roasted fish I went back to the recreation room, but the book was no longer on the table. Instead, we listened to a Cuban musician playing guitar that evening.