Buccaneros at La Floridita, Havana

When we were in Havana, Anne and I visited La Floridita - Hemmingway had boozed there - a man in a faded red jacket beckoned us inside - the bar was dimly lit - a salsa band played catchy, magical, sexy music - there were guitars, drums, the swaying hips of girls -

The bar staff made mojitos like magicians - they spun the bright cocktail shakers as though they were possessed - they scooped up great handfuls of crushed ice - they gathered up fragrant heaps of bright green mint - they poured out the Havana Club from deadly bottles - the cold world was far away -

There was a life size bronze statue of Hemmingway, lolling against the bar - he was smiling -

At the far end of the bar was a large circular dining room, all set out in faded red velvet - it had a melancholy air - it was deserted, full of shadows -

The facilities of La Floridita were rudimentary - I made use of the green paper napkins left unguarded upon the bar -

After two Buccaneros, we left the bar - my head was spinning - we walked out into a balmy twilight -