Why Cubans Don´t Camp

After a long day of riding, the hardest day so far, in a torrential downpour, we made our way to the "campismo" closest to Guantanamo.
First the security guards tried to blow us off even though there was not another place to stay within 70 KM and it was 1 hour to dark.
When the manager arrived some time later, Christine used her sweet Canadian barganing skills, we were able to stay in a "cabin" for 6$ each, as long as we were out by 6am. The first offer was out by 5am, but it doesn´t get light until 630am, so its nice that they budged on that one. (We weren´t allowed to set up our tent, not that we wanted to in the rain.)
We were stoked to get out of the rain and into our cement "hut" that contained 3 cells... a kitchen cell, bedroom cell and bathroom cell. It was pretty sparse, but dry..ish.
First duty of business after unpacking was to kill the massive spider that had crawled out of the bathroom to eye up us newcomers.
Next, we moved the bed (to single beds of almost the same height pushed together)away from the wall to avoid the drip that had started in the cieling. As the beds moved, we disrupted two resident mice who scurried out terrified, one took shelter in the kitch under our trailers and the other made a lap over my stuff and headed back under the bed to his home, most likely in the mattress. We decided not to mave the bed anymore, because if cuban mice are like cuban people, the whole extended family lived under there.
After settling in and getting as dry and clean as possible. We all found ourselves laying on our backs on the bed staring up at the ceiling watching the growing leak and listening to the rain and wind pound on the open air wooden shutters. With dinner and sleep still on the to do list, we talked about our day and what we were thankful for, it was Thanksgiving back at home afterall. With everything we´d endured on the hardest day so far, we found a lot to be grateful for, including the roof over our heads.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone
Vanessa