I'm a singer in a band.

One last sketch of the Cuban domino players.

The singer again, sitting out a game.

Cuban rescue.

Sketched this woman in her blue D&G knock off top whilst we sat in a small park dominated by a statue of Cervantes.

And then, later on, as we were being accosted by a bloke wanting us to give him money, there she was again, sitting on a wall outside the National Cuban Art Gallery. And I said hello, and she smiled back, and then told the bloke to leave us alone.

Or at least that is how I am interpreting that situation.

Girls.

Gossiping on a sunday.

International Womens' Day

After a salsa lesson that was more stressful and sweaty than syncopated we sat, dazed, and watched the Cuban International Womens' Day shindig.  Everyone piled into the Casa for dancing, drinking and lurid coloured cake.  A young woman ran around as a sort of vajazzled swan, and rum and coke got spilt with abandon. It was like a bit like a lock in at your local, if your local had bougainvillea growing from the ceiling, and couples dry humping each other as entertainment.

Favorite sketch from that day, two women sharing one chair.

Beauty is often right in front of you.

Hey, wake up. We're there.

This couple slept so soundly on the plane they were in danger of doing the return trip too.

( Note to self - stop sketching people in positions that look like they might, just might, be having oral sex. )

Concerned Concierge

This guy stood at his building's door frowning at something happening down the street.

Couldn't see what he was looking at, but liked how he looked.

That's a lot of looking. Happens everyday.

Santa Clara

Santa Clara on a sunday was a party town. ( mind you, I think EVERYWHERE EVERYDAY was a party town, from what I saw. )

Two sketches of a couple chilling in the main square.

I liked how they were sitting.

Not entirely sure what his hand was up to, but I'm sure it was perfectly innocent. 

More Domino players.

From the same group, as they shuffled around and took turns playing and goading each other.

This guy turned out to be the singer in the band, and then turned up the next day in a different band as well.  Pleased with his knuckles, which I'm sure he would be glad to know.

And still they played on.

Dominoes

Spent a while sketching a group of guys ( who later turned out to be a band !!! ) killing time playing dominos.

They played with such energy and swearing. Maybe whole lives were at stake.

We need more dominoes here. 

Neckerchief

That doesn't look right . Is that right ? Neckerchief ? Looks wrong to me. Hmmm. says it's right.

Too old-fashioned a word. Not used to seeing it.

Anyway...

One of the (many) bands that played for us wore these round their necks. Liked them more than the music.

What can I say ? I'm English. I'm genetically engineered to dig up potatoes and fry them, not to swing my hips to syncopated rhythms.

If music be the food of love...

...give it a rest for a bit.

Every time you sat down to eat or drink anything, a band popped up to belt out their version of Chan Chan, swiftly followed by the chance to buy their ( seriously dodgy graphics ) CD.

By the end we were literally pleading with them not to play.

Sketched a few of them. This is my favorite. Like his fingers. Got them wrong several times, but the accumulated effect is sort of right.

Snores on a plane

Flew back with the Cuban mmmmnnnnmmmmnn team. Mmmmnnnmmmnn because I couldn't work out what sport they were actually involved in, but they all had matching tracksuits and bags, and an archetypal burly coach to chivvy them on en masse.

Two of them fell asleep in the seats next to me. One had his head up against the back of the seat in front of him.

What ever sport it was, I'll wager he was going to have one heck of a stiff neck to deal with later. 

Stretch it out.

Three x blokes sitting, drinking.

Still on the veranda.

Two blokes sat with their beers, sketched them three times.

Like how the first bloke gets more elongated in each sketch.

If I carried on maybe he would have stretched out of all existence, like the bad bloke at the end of 'Ghost'.

More they lied.

Two more sketches of the couple from yesterday.

I think this is a better one of the bloke, doesn't make him look quite so old.

And I love how the fingers in the guide book she was reading worked out here.

It was the Lonely Planet guide to Cuba. EVERYONE seemed to have a copy. 

No wonder our paths crossed twice in one day.

They lied !

Went up a mountain one day. On the way up we met a couple coming down, who told us we were halfway there. So we gamely pressed on. And it turned out we were only a third of the way at best. But I guess it was a boost to our hiking moral, so whatever...

Then, later, as we sat in a (well-deserved) Mojito soaked daze on the veranda of the Hotel Casa Grande, the same couple arrived and sat right in front of us.

Such blatant willingness to participate in the narrative of the day couldn't be ignored. So here they are.

I just allowed myself an English nod of the head to them in acknowledgement of our mutual path crossing, and resisted the urge to stagger over and make them feel morally accountable for my throbbing, ravaged thighs.

I am not joking. By then end of the trip we could hardly walk, and HAD to spend an entire afternoon laying on sunbeds. 

Honest.

You wear red and I'll wear yellow.

One thing they are not afraid of in Cuba, is colour. I'm not sure if it was the sun, or if they have access to a better, more vibrant pallet of colours that us, but it just knocked me off my feet every day.

See, even sketching them and bringing them back to the UK has dulled their punch, like Victorian botanists sadly watching their exotic specimens wilt and die. 

These outfits could have taken your eye out, they were so bright.

Cuba

Heya.  How you all been keeping ?

First sketch from a different corner of the world.

Cuba airport, crazy place. You know the world record attempt to see how many people you can fit into a Mini ? Well this is the airport waiting lounge equivalent.

Sketch is a bit selective, add a thousand other people milling around, pushing past me, getting in my eyeline. 

And can I say I had never realised how 'communal' Spanish was as a language. Now I am home I am struck by how (relatively) silent the English are.