I’ve driven straight into 1959.
Not many people are on the streets, and hardly any vehicles, except for an occasional 40-year old Chevrolet behemoth.
The town must have been lovely at one time with its pastel-coloured houses and their red-tiled roofs. Now it needs several coats of paint and the broken patches of cracked plaster and stucco repaired. Continue reading “Helping out in Cuba’s “Special Period” – Part 3″