OH MY GOD, IT WAS BRILLIANT! FANTASTIC! ....DAVID TENNANT GORGEOUS EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! But more of that later; there is more pressing news to report: I am back! Am back from an absolutely heavenly week and a half in Cuba, and here to give you the full report. Hurrah!
After an eternity of waiting, checking in, lugging huge suitcases around and being christened to the joys of Sudoku, me, Dad, Mum, Deborah, Gerald, Fran and (an astonishly cheerful) Joe finally embarked onto the plane and took off into the sky. Woohoo!
After about eight and a half hours tensions were beginning to mount; Joe's bright mood had dimmed considerably and he was throwing a hissy fit every time I accidentally bruhed against his arm or leg. We were so SO SO SO bored. FINALLY, we landed, and we stepped off the plane steps onto Cuban ground.
My first thought was that the air felt like a greenhouse; it was very humid, and it was comfortably warm and lovely and wonderful etc. It didn't take long to get through customs, or whatever it's called when you show the terse Cuban official your passport and a million other things with your name on. Anyway, after picking up our bags, finding our way out, and after what seemed like a LONG, LONG coach journey where all of us were tired, cranky and bad-tempered beyond belief, after a huge and complicated mix-up of the rooms where Deborah had to protest in light-speed spanish that none of us understood, I was shown to my room.
And low and behold, I was spellbound.
I had a balcony. With a hammock.
Well, I did the sensible thing and went straight to bed (I was literally falling asleep while standing up) and slept. Meanwhile, my six other companions staggered off to the bar for cocktails and (although this is just a guess) got hideously, horribly drunk and departed to bed at about three in the morning, with the result that everyone was exhausted and jet-lagged for several days.
And me? Well, jet lag seemed to do me good; at seven o'clock I woke up and transferred myself to my hammock and looked down over the resort. Our bit of the resort, anyway, it's huge. There was a pool. At about nine Mum and Dad (who was sporting a hideous, Brokeback Mountain-esque hat) collected me and we find our way to breakfast, with the hungover others.
Fresh pineapple for breakfast, every day. I'm going to miss that. Anyway, after that (and a lot more kerfuffle) we found our way to the boiling beach and spent the rest of the day (not counting when we stopped for chips) on it, or in the warm, Cuban sea.
Days 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 and half of day 8 were spent in a similar vein; spending the day on the beach (although after a couple of days we found a tiny weeny beach just along the bay and claimed that as our own), swimming, sunbathing, reading, eating, then in the afternoon we would slowly disperse and get ready for dinner (and watch American TV, if you were me) in the bedrooms, until dinnertime.
Whereupon we would eat and the adults would get hideously drunk for the night. On cocktails. Again.
It was absolutely sublime; everybody loved it. It's so LIBERATING being able to walk around in a bikini and a sarong and not freeze to death or get stared at. Actually, I was stared at a bit, and *whistled* at, by many gorgeous gorgeous Cuban boys, which was a new experience. Yummy. Heeeee...
Anway, not meaning to toot my own horn, but I managed to maintain looking rather gorgeous throughout the whole holiday; I was very proud. I also played water volleyball with a load of Canadians, and embarassed myself completely. Nothing new there, then...
On day 8 (approximately, I wasn't counting) we packed our things, checked out, went to Holguin airport and got the plane to Havana, which is very different. We stayed at the Hotel Nacional - which is a *very* fancy hotel with room-service and everything! Apparently Kate Moss has stayed there before, as have many other famous people. We dd actually see a camera crew, but no celebrities this time.
Day 9 we spent the day in Havana, walking through the city. Havana is where you really see how the Cubans live; the majority of it is very run-down and some buildings have just been abandoned; it was very sad. We were accosted by a lot of beggars as well; tourists bring in a lot of money to the country and they needed it, evidently.
Anway, we visited the revolution museum (which I'm sure would have been interesting if I'd understood anything of what happened) and found out that Che Gevara (approximation, I have no idea how to spell his name) is the face on nearly everything at Phoenix. He was a Cuban revolutionry, apparently.
We ate lunch and looked in shops and strolled through the town until me and Fran (Deborah's daughter - 18) got hideously bored and hailed a taxi to take us to the hotel, whereupon we spent the day lounging around by the pool. Ahhh...
Evening - dinner - drunkenness - usual routine.
On the last day we packed up, checked out and got on the bus for Havana airport. WARNING - *never* go there. It is a queue-infested, boiling hell-hole. It was so BORING. We were at the back of a massive queue to get our luggage shrink-wrapped, then another huge queue to check in, then another massive one to show the terse Cuban officials the passports, etc. And seriously - have they never heard of air conditioning? One man in our line fainted because of the heat - it was awful.
And then I had a bizarre argument with the terse official when they asked for my age.
"I'm fifteen."
"Sixteen?"
"No,
fifteen.""Sixteen?"
"Fifteen!"
"Sixteen!"
"Fifteen!!!"
Couldn't she have looked at my passport...?
Anyway, then another smaller queue for hand luggage searching, metal detector etc, then after a surprisingly short time we boarded the plane. As Dad said, we were in serious danger of actually taking off on time, but then something went wrong with the plane and it sort of rumbled an juddered around for about half an hour before finally taxying (sp?) and taking off.
Usual routine once more - nine hours of total boredom.
Then we landed in blessed, cold England at 10 in the morning, completely jet-lagged and exhausted; we seemed to have gained five hours out of nowhere. After a mammoth walk to the luggage reclaim, an embarassing instance involving my suitcase and me running along trying to heave it off the conveyer belt, a three hour taxi drive home, we were...well, home. At about half past one. I would have blogged, but I was completely disorientated and it took me a while to regroup. I'm fine now.
So...that was my holiday. By reading this, you can't really grasp how utterly brilliant and amazing it was. It was FANTABULOUS. I
loved it, and I am
definitely going again someday. I just need to learn more Spanish.
Then along came 7:15, and I think you can guess where I was.
That's right.
He's back.
DOCTOR WHO IS BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It was utterly, utterly, utterly BRILLIANT AND FANTASTIC!!! I adored it, I really did! I was in absolute hysterics; it was hysterical!
"Watch out for the disinfectant!"
"The what?"
"THE DISINFECTANT!"
"What??"
"THE DISINFEC...oh, you'll find out."
"Oh my God, I'm...a chav!"
And that kiss....ooooohhhh, she's a lucky girl.
But the absolute funniest bit was the Doctor/Cassandra moments.
"Oh...OH, two hearts! Oh baby, I'm breaking out in a samba!"
I literally fell off the sofa laughing at this point.
"What would he do? The Doctor, what the hell would he do?"
"We need to climb that!"
"Out of the way, blondie!"
"God, it was tedious being inside your head. Hormone city."
And Billie Piper:
"Oh, chavtastic again."
And it was great; David Tennant was utterly fantastic, none of the little flaws that he admittedly had in the Christman Invasion; he was different, brilliant, really good. So was Billie Piper.
And it's back! And I'm recording it! And it's back! Gorgeous David Tennat for three more months!!!!
Ooh, I'm getting feverish. David Tennant is FOXY!!!
"So technically this is new new new new new new new new new new new new new new new York."
God, I love it. I LOVE IT!!! ME AND ANNA AND SOPHIE IN OUR ELEMENT AGAIN!!!!
Rosby out. Please comment!
