Night in Havana
Trip Start
Jan 16, 2007
1
36
51
Trip End
Mar 01, 2007
I dream of Cuban winds. Warm gusts carry me of a sudden, lift me over failing balconies.
At night outside our apartment, the traffic sweeps past the Hotel Nacional in a rush like wind. I cannot discern whether old cars or new nor'easterlies move beyond my slumber... but I go with them anyway into unknown poorly lit streets, waking to tell myself it is a dream is all, before being lulled and pulled away once more.
And what of the baby? He is sick, moaning in his sleep. Just after sunset, he succumbed, last of us, in the last week of our journey, to some malevolent germ. He sneezed and vomitted his way to oblivion. The whole family is unsettled, Lucy crying out to be cuddled, Julie and I moving like satellites between the children, calming them, holding them, shushing them back to sleep on this warm Cuban night.
At night outside our apartment, the traffic sweeps past the Hotel Nacional in a rush like wind. I cannot discern whether old cars or new nor'easterlies move beyond my slumber... but I go with them anyway into unknown poorly lit streets, waking to tell myself it is a dream is all, before being lulled and pulled away once more.
And what of the baby? He is sick, moaning in his sleep. Just after sunset, he succumbed, last of us, in the last week of our journey, to some malevolent germ. He sneezed and vomitted his way to oblivion. The whole family is unsettled, Lucy crying out to be cuddled, Julie and I moving like satellites between the children, calming them, holding them, shushing them back to sleep on this warm Cuban night.


