I don't mean to pick on old Cuba but if you come from, let's say; a more conventional supposed 1st world country, then some things that go on in Cuba might seem a bit strange, weird, if not more than a tad awkward, to the average Joes of this planet. Case in point; not all nations have an abundance of animals pulling buggies, wagons and what not down the road or have a citizenship that on average could dance the socks off of most all of it's visitors from around the globe. There are certainly some things that are commendable about Cuba, but then again, other things that are down-right peculiar.

I have a few bizarre stories. Let me go first.....

I was in Santiago and needing to fetch a taxi for the long haul. I asked around and one chico in particular didn't like my price so I moved on. He eventually caught up with me again and agreed to my price. He drove a yellow "Cuba taxi" so I though all should be fine. Well, next thing you know he stopped to pick up his daughters (or was it his neighbour's cousins?) and invited them along for the drive. He had to make another pit stop, so there I am in the back with these over-friendly folks and starting to get annoyed. "I want a ride to such 'n such not a birthday party with presents", I told them! After waiting longer and smelling something possibly creepy while Mr. Cab Driver was in some building doing his business, I had to take matters into my own hands and grabbed my luggage and made a dash for it to the next main street. The only available vehicle that was willing to help me was a motorcycle with a side car. I awkwardly hopped in the side car with my luggage and told the guy, "get me out of here pronto"! He stepped on the gas and I let out a big howl and hand gestured to the folks that I left behind.

Hope you enjoyed my story. What about you? Any bizarre happenings while in Cuba?

I think the obvious one that is bizarre or unique about Cuba are all the vintage automobiles that are still being driven. We have never seen that anywhere else in all our travels down south.

Once while in Varadero, we met a man who was reportedly a physic by his own admission but his ability to read the unknown was horribly vague.

It is very cold where you come from……….
You have stress at work……
You will live a long life…….

That kind of stuff LOL!

Sorry, I should have written psychic not physic.
Another bizarre thing about Cuba is the amount of new friends that you can accumulate on any given day!

In general though Cuba is a great place to visit as far as we are concerned.

there was a series on TV called“ yank tanks.“ It was about the vintage cars that they have. Because of the break-in relations with the US parts are not available. As a result, Cuban mechanics have become masters of adaptation. For example, they may take part from a Russian car and put on a Chevy, a part from a Chrysler and put it on a Ford and so on.

If that is not possible, then they make the part themselves. There’s a cottage industry of shops that do this sort of work.

Ingenuity is key to making life just a bit more interesting and bearable these past few decades in Cuba.
An alternate, every so often, must be found.

The need and ability to self-manufacture for things like car parts is indeed another unique/bizarre attribute regarding Cuba. Some people working at our resort one year would fill up a tennis can full of wine and pass it around. Different strokes for different folks!

HAPPY NEW YEAR ALL!

I've had way too many bizarre incidents in Cuba to mention here. So I'll keep it transportation related. Changed a tire on a coco taxi in Havana. Rode on the back of a large flatbed truck while sharing rum with the others on board. Have held various livestock in the backseats of several cars. Argued with and threatened many taxi drivers after they raised the price at the end of my trip. One thing that always makes me giggle is remembering the time that my girlfriend and I took the Viazul to Santa Clara. When we got off the bus, there were no taxis around. So we climbed into a bici taxi and headed towards our casa. The guy was in his 70's and was having a difficult time. He pulled over after about half way to take a break. So I offered to drive. So he climbs in the back with my girlfriend and puts my backpack on his lap and off we go. How do you pay someone in that situation? I bought him a couple of beers and thanked him for the memories. Also Happy New Year to all!

Simon, in your opinion, are bizarre incidents more prevalent and unique to Cuba or is it just one crazy world out there anyhow? Again, not trying to pick on Cuba but it never seems to be a dull place one way or the other!

Another one is the amount of people in Havana that I would recognize being from another part of the island (mostly Santiago), Turn the corner.....and there's another one! Or what is more bizarre is people in Havana recognizing me from Santiago. Escucha! I am really from la tierra frio no la tierra caliente!

Nope. Not unique to Cuba. Bizarre incidents can happen in any country. I have countless tales of strange things that have happened to me all over the world. Not so much in Western Europe though. Mostly Eastern Europe, Asia and Central and South America. And more to come I'm sure.

This one doesn't really pertain exclusively to Cuba or Cubans but it did happen there at the end of my trip this past January at a resort.

It was late at night and although I was hankering for some shut-eye, the body and mind didn't want to turn in just yet, so I decided to go for a middle of the night swim in one of the hotel pools when most others, including my friends, were in their rooms sawing logs or whatever.

It was refreshing and tranquil as I swam about and kept still when other folks periodically walked by.

This brush with sweet wet solitude came to a crashing end as two large figures rolled up to the pool and completely disrobed before wading in. Now I ain't no prude but the female was many decades too old to be Miss America and I kind of felt offended that this couple would crash my darkened pool party whether they knew it or not. Talk about a bummer and a couple of big ones at that.

A few large splashes from my end startled them and let them know that they weren't alone to which they hopped out, put on their clothes and skedaddled.

Ah sweet serenity!

Spoil sport lol!

Could have been worse CW. The couple could have smiled and made their way towards you.

Hanging around other tourists (especially from my own country) was never really a highlight of my travels to Cuba. Hanging out with the folks of the country of Cuba, that I was visiting, proved to be a lot more adventurous, fun and enlightening.

One example of being thoroughly embarrassed by one of my own countrymen was the time that this woman (with a fake chest, believe it or not) attempted to reprimand other tourists (especially men) about going to the after-dinner dance show put on by the local dancers. The gals were too young to be scantily moving around she argued. I mean talk about a square-and-a-half! Depriving old Joe of a nightly peek-a-boo music show was a mean thing to attempt. Laughable really. One local chico who worked there was flabbergasted and thanked his lucky stars that he lived in Cuba.

jajajaja Thanks for moving this thread forward so that I could have a good read of it - ALL very funny stories, CubanWaters! Bueno, I haven't hung around other Canadians in Cuba for quite some time, but I know exactly what you mean. When hanging out with my Cuban friends and family members, it's so calming and therapeutic... everyone is just naturally relaxed and REAL! Just being themselves. But if I remember, every time I've stayed on a resort in Cuba... my wife with me too... it's been just one big bombardment from the politically correct crowd. Sooooo many KARENS! It's as if they don't have anything better to do than to BEACH continuously about this, that, and everything else trying to out-do each other. That's what I'm always trying to escape from when I go to Cuba. Back to a simpler time without any angst for just being myself! Many of our countrymen and women seem to be more concerned about what everyone else is doing, instead of worrying about what they're doing. Live and let live! That's always been my creedo no matter where I am.

OK! Now for my "bizarre times" in Cuba. I'll start with just one story of my own. One of my good friends, Daniel, had me and my other Cuban pals pile into his Lada to go out on the town of Camaguey drinking together for the afternoon... but he didn't tell me where we were going. Only that I'd like it. We arrived at a Cuban army base on the outskirts of Camaguey city... he told the rest of us to stay in the parking lot until Daniel chatted with a friend first at the guard gate. Then he motioned us to enter. We arrived at a huge courtyard on the base with dozens of picnic tables and many soldiers drinking beer out of enormous glass mugs. A number of the soldiers seemed to know Daniel quite well, so he was introducing me to quite a few. We sat down at a table too, the 5 of us, and immediately a barmaid came by and plunked down an enormous mug of beer in front of each of us too. No money needed to change hands - everything was "on the house". I noticed that there were a dozen cute Cuban girls visiting each table and chatting it up with the guys. Sometimes one of those soldiers would get up and wander off with one of those girls. I asked Daniel where they were going. He said that around the corner, there was a barracks where they could find some private time together... if you know what I mean. Daniel had no sooner finished telling me about that when the gang of Cuban girls descended on our table to chat us up. And of course, it wasn't just chatting when some of them sat down beside us. Hands going everywhere! Daniel looked at me and winked... motioning with his head that I could go visit that barracks too. I just laughed and casually changed the subject. BUT! After we had drank 3 or 4 big mugs of beer each, Daniel said it was time to leave... and invited 3 of those girls to go with us too. Somehow we managed to shoehorn them into the car. I was sitting in the front seat as I always do because of my long legs, but had to have one of those girls sit on my lap for the lack of room. And OFF WE WENT! Me not knowing again where we were going, while diplomatically fending off her hands that were roaming everywhere. The next thing I know, we arrive back at my wife's casa! And with my wife coming out to greet us when getting out of the car with this girl who had her arm around me when standing there! The look on my wife's face was the worst stink-eye I'd ever seen in my life! I just raised my hands and shook my head with a grimace on my face to let her know that I didn't know what was going on either. Anyway, eventually that girl got the message and she just started to put the moves on one of my other Cuban friends instead. That was more than a bit crazy! And of course I had to shake my finger at Daniel for putting me in such an awkward situation. But Daniel just said to me... Es Cuba! jajaja Now where have a heard that before?? Terry

Oh those smoking rooms in the Cuban airports really are an oddity, are they not?

I've used a few of them and many had a same peculiar trait. The fan in the window was sucking air in but isn't that backwards and the fans should be sucking smokey air out? Like sitting in the clouds in some of those rooms.

Nowadays, there seems to be a charge of some sort to enter those smoke rooms. Thank goodness, I have given up the faggs (as TA's British divagateshead calls them) and most any other tobacco product. I haven't carried back home a carton of smokes or a container of honey since the pandemic started, I believe.

OK! It's now Saturday morning and I finally have some time to post another "Bizarre Time" story for your reading edification and entertainment pleasure. I still work as an account executive 5 days a week, so my time to post here is somewhat limited. Anyway! Here goes!

For context, before I began dating and later marrying my now Cuban wife in Cuba more than 11 years ago, I was dating other Cuban girls for up to 1 to 1 1/2 year stints each when visiting the city of Camaguey up to 6 times per year... before growing tired of each of them for a plethora of different reasons and then moving on to the next. Before I married my wife, Yudith, I think I had a total of 6 other long-term love relationships in Cuba, but alas, each new girl had their flaws... or it was me too when I was with them - to be honest, I'm no angel. Regardless, one of my love interests way back then was/is the sister of my best friend in Cuba by the name of Yessica. I was together with her for well over a year, but in that space of time, I learned a lot about her prior history as a divorced cubana with a very young little boy thanks to her previous relationship with her completely deaf Cuban husband.

I got to know that guy well too because he would regularly come around to visit with his son, Pachito. However I could never understand anything that he would say to me with a smile on his face. Because he's been deaf from birth, he can't speak properly - only grunts and strange sounds coming out of his mouth, and using his hands to try to articulate himself to me. Not sign language, as we know it. It was something else... almost as if we were playing the game "Charades" when trying to communicate with each other. I still had an incredibly difficult time making sense of anything he grunted or wildly gestured with his hands, however he could understand me because he could read lips when I was speaking to him in Spanish. Everyone else there seemed to be able to easily decipher his grunts and hand gestures when having long conversations with him though.

Anyway, eventually other family members, and Yessica too, explained to me why their marriage had ended. When Yessica was pregnant with Pachito and was essentially out of commish, he had had a secret affair with another young Cuban girl there in the barrio, and ultimately got her pregnant too. So when Pachito was born, his half-brother was born only 3 months later. Of course that was just too much for Yessica to cope with and their marriage very rapidly dissolved. Enter me as her new novio 1 year later. Both little boys can hear perfectly well, so their father's disability wasn't hereditary, thank God. Such is life there in Cuba for a deaf guy who couldn't speak or hear, but obviously didn't have any trouble attracting the ladies. He still comes around even years later - Pachito is now a teenager and he regularly hangs out with his half-brother too - always has. Their father tried to escape Cuba by sea to go to Miami several years ago, but his boat that he paid passage on at Playa Santa Lucia was quickly surrounded by Cuban police boats only a short distance from the shoreline. He spent 8 days in a Cuban prison afterwards with everyone thinking that he had drowned with no word coming from his cell phone - and then miraculously showed up unannounced one afternoon on a bicycle when I was there to great applause and relief from everyone. That's when he explained what had happened to him, and others then explained that to me too. He now continues to live on his farm out in the campo on the outskirts of Camaguey city. His get-out-of-Cuba card days are over. Btw, he has a new wife now and new kids as well, all living together in their very simple dirt floor casa out on the farm. CUBA! Crazy! Crazy! Terry

We were on our way to visit the beer drinking donkey at the Mirador hotel near Holguin. We were waiting for our taxi driver friend on the street outside of our hotel the Club Amigo. We met some gals out front and were having a good chat with them but I soon noticed that we getting some funny looks. It just so happened that my friend and I were carrying cans of dog food. One of the Cubans that was concerned asked if we were taking the dog food for the donkey. My friend Larry and I replied, no no no the dog food is for the taxi drivers dogs! Everyone just started laughing like crazy. You know the way Cubans laugh. A funny memory

Well, I'm having a bit of a slow day today with my work, so it's time to impart another "Bizarre Times" story for your reading enjoyment - hopefully! Nobody has seemed to want to comment on my previous 2 stories.

Here goes! In my many years gone by in Cuba, I've had some rather catastrophic things happen to me physically when there - back in my younger years when I was much more of a daredevil. Most of my physical injuries there can always be attributed to me perhaps drinking too much rum and beer - that's why I affectionately label those as my drinking injuries. I've had a few bumps and scrapes over the years, but thank God I've never broken a bone and/or needed medical attention... even though my Cuban friends and family members have pleaded with me to go to the hospital in Camaguey city on numerous occasions for treatment. But like the old Monty Python adage, they've always only been "flesh wounds".

One time I was showing off by riding my then Cuban novia's bicicleta (later to become my Cuban wife) down the dirt calle that looks more like a dried out riverbed with deeply cut channels in it... me, with a Cuban cigarette pinched between my two fingers in one hand, and a can of Bucanero in the other, riding shirtless with no hands on the handlebars past all of my friends and family members and screaming yiiiiiiiiiiiii jjjaaaaaaa!! And with them screaming back to me the same too as I shot past. Until I got to the end of the calle and needed to turn around. I took a shortcut off the road on a walking path to circle an enormous Royal Palm, when all of a sudden, I realized that there was a small drainage ditch immediately crossing my path in front of me with no time to react to avoid it. The front wheel immediately stopped and I was catapulted over the handlebars landing directly on my back on the dirt and gravel road. Other Cubans near by came immediately to my aid... and with my friends and family members all running down the road to collect me. Somehow I'd managed to land on my back with my cigarette still between my fingers, and my beer still in my other hand too without spilling a drop - priorities, I guess! But I was in rough shape as I was helped back to my feet - others picking gravel out of my back skin, and with me now realizing that I had caught my knee on the handlebar quite hard too as I had been ejected. I was hobbling a bit, and walked back to the casa up the road with a pronounced limp. Over the course of the next hour, my knee blew up like a balloon... and that's when everyone was panicking and yelling at me... Terry! Hospital! Hospital! But I just yelled back... no, no! Mas cerveza! jaja Mi otra medicacion! The swelling and the pain lasted a week. I was good-to-go when flying back to Canada later without the limp. Anyway, that was the last time I tried a stunt like that there on a bicycle! Terry

To be continued with other stories.... if anyone is interested. I've survived numerous other close calls with my drinking injuries in Cuba. Thank God that I'm now much more civilized when I'm there. Or just too plain old! But like Bryan Adams though, I'm still 18 'till I die.

Adventurous tales like yours Terry (the good and the bad) can be had for anyone looking for a more cultural experience instead of an all inclusive resort. Cuba can be comfortable, frustrating, rewarding, enriching, amazing and horrible all in the same day.

Simon, I've never personally had a horrible experience in Cuba - trials and tribulations - YES! But I've always been much more of a "glass half full" kind of dude anyway and always finding and dwelling more so on the positive within a negative. Generally, adding more beer and rum seems to be the cure for all evils with me. Which brings me to 1 more tale involving my drinking injuries in Cuba. I realize that some are going to naturally think that drinking both beer and rum to excess is all that I do when I'm there, but that's not true at all. Bueno, no mucho!

I'll make this one quick! Who else has tipped a few too many when there in Cuba and impaled themselves after falling into a cactus hedge?? That's right! I put one foot wrong when jumping over a black-water ditch on the calle in the dark of night and fell straight into a cactus hedge back-first - fully impaling myself into that thing with too many cactus needles to count driven deep into my culo too! I was a human pin-cushion. And I couldn't get out of that hedge on my own. I was completely impeded. All I could do was yell for my Cuban best friend to come to my aid - slap his hand into mine - and pull me with all his might up and out. Once again, all of my Cuban friends and family at the fiesta were telling me to immediately go to the hospital because I had streams of blood running down my back from the many dozens of leaks that I'd sprung. But I just had my best amigo hose me down up the side of the casa and then he stuck bits of toilet paper to my now shirtless back to plug the holes. After all! The fiesta must go on! And many more cervezas were needing my attention. Only it wasn't really toilet paper used, as the fiesta was being held at my good amiga's casa... Oneida, the mother of my best friend. She's not rich, so in her bano for toilet paper, there were old used school notebooks of Arisbely's on the counter for... bueno, you know! Arisbelys is the younger sister of Maikel, my best friend there... his sister, madly in love with Justin Bieber at that time - but that's another story. So it was small torn off pieces of school notebook paper that were stuck all over my back to dam things up. The crazy thing is when needing to tear a page out of those old used school notebooks to... well, you know... you'd end up with grey pencil marks all over your butt afterwards from Arisbelys math equations. Much like when using sheets of Granma newspaper on occasion. But hey! It did the job! Both ways that night. Crazy! Crazy! Cuban resolver! Gotta love it! Terry