Saturday, March 23, 2013

Well, that's no reason to snap at me

Our last night in Cuba, we stayed in a French casa in Centro Habana. Its main plus (besides a cake-and-Nutella breakfast) was its collection of free-roaming reptiles: seven turtles and a small crocodile.

The turtles didn't move much, but the crocodile went wherever he pleased. He wore a collar that had a piece of rope tied to it, but the other end of the rope wasn't actually tied to anything. Still, the hosts were laid-back about him, so we decided to be laid-back too. Crocodiles aren't dangerous; they're lovely.

We had a drink in the courtyard. For some time we smiled like idiots at the turtles and the crocodile (Look! look! etc.). Before long, however, we realised they weren't exactly doing any tricks. It was time for the bill.

We stretched our necks and looked inside, but nobody came. The time dragged. We could see them on the other side of the dining room, but couldn't get their attention.

Deciding to take matters into my own hands, I tip-toed to the doorway. One of the hosts caught sight of me then. She—how shall I say—raised her voice at me and told me to stop, pointing to the crocodile a few metres away. She motioned emphatically for me to go back to my seat, and told one of her helpers to take me the bill.

Having taken an unexpected knee to the groin, my bravado took a seat in the courtyard. Well, I thought, what the hell is he doing on the loose?

Crocodiles are dangerous.

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