 The next morning I took breakfast with the family, which cost only three dollars. After that I headed up town to hire a bike and look for the nearest beach. When I arrived, it was utterly deserted. Looking out to sea I began to think of the incredible history connected with these waters. I imagined tall ships moored out in the harbour and the search parties clambering ashore to find fresh water and supplies. Then of course, there are the pirates and all their nefarious dealings
Id brought a snorkel and mask with me and took off over some rocks to find a good place to dive. Behind one outcrop I found a well hidden local doing a spot of fishing. He gave me directions to the best place to enter the water. I made my way in very gingerly and pushed off. The water was rough and I felt somewhat intimidated. Little by little my confidence grew and I managed to relax into it. Soon I was marvelling at the coral and abundance of wildlife. There was fish of every colour and shape and strange looking corals. This was a new experience for me and I was speechless with the wonder of it all. I spent the best part of an hour swimming underwater and found the whole thing exhilarating. I then headed back to the beach to dry out in the sun. I got myself comfortably laid out on the top of a wall and opened a book. In no time at all the heat and earlier exertions had lured me into a deep slumber. Some time later I was woken by the sound of a bus arriving. It was full of baseball players who have come to practice on the beach. I went off for a little more snorkelling and decided to call it a day. The ride home was lovely. The sun had cooled a little and there was a gentle breeze to guide me home. People were still working in the fields, the very sight of which made me hungry. I arrived back at the place where the bikes were hired and used my deposit to buy a loaf and some cheese. After a humble dinner I visited Fran, the man I met on the ferry. Inside his compound there was a crowd of people sat having their evening meal. We chatted about many things and the recent behaviour of Tony Blair. We questioned how the head of a so-called democracy was prepared to engage in a war so clearly opposed by the majority of his people. Of course, we knew the answer to be oil. One of the diners, whose name I never caught was high on rum. He was loud and aggressive, and totally out of sync with the discussion. He began to make me feel uncomfortable and I decided to leave. Returning to the Casa I found Rey in good form. He too had taken to the rum but was in a much better fame of mind-relaxed and contented. He was curled up on the couch and looked like hed melted into it. We spoke of life, politics and religion. He told me that he followed the creed of Saint Rey (no doubt his alter ego!) which espoused belief in family, home and peace-all of which I truly believed. The perfect example of a truly happy family man. I then wished him good night and took myself off to bed, looking forward to visiting the famous Presidio De modelo (Prison where Castro was held for two years) in the morning.
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