Today is the day. I laced up my boots, threw on my bag, and said adios to Maria and her casa. I walked through the city to get to a hostel on the opposite end of town, taking in the hustle on my last day in Havana.
On my way, I finally got internet access at a fancy hotel only to find that I couldn’t log into my email account without a code from my phone. I had lost my phone in the Dominican Republic. [Expletive deleted]. I tried to set up another email address so I could write home, but to do that you need a code sent to your phone… It felt like I was being defeated by a child safety lock. After about an hour of playing chess with google’s security I was able to set up another account with the help of a state side accomplice.
Switching up hotels is always a bit unnerving for me. My crimson backpack is great when I need to find it – not so great when I’m trying to slink along the streets of a foreign country unfound. I always feel like a target until I get checked in. By the time I stopped feeling like a target I didn’t have much time for anything else. I stopped by the National Museum of Cuban Art, got a bite to eat in a sea-side alleyway, stopped by Cuba’s version of the Victoria & Albert Museum (El Museo de Arte Colonial), and did a last sketch of the cathedral.
Aside from the general dysfunction that I began to accept as the norm, I really did enjoy the National Museum of Cuban Art. The museum was organized chronologically and housed a great collection of paintings, prints, drawings, and sculpture – none of which I had ever seen before.
The museum of colonial art was small, and undergoing renovation at the time, but it was full of all of my favorite things: Furniture, doors, hardware, decorative art, and bright blue ceilings… I had heard of historic papier mache furniture, but I had never seen any in person until then.