Nothing went as planned. It was wonderful.

I can't remember the last time I was this excited. After all these years, I've finally made it to Cuba. Starting Monday, I will be biking the central part of the island with seven others, four Americans and three Canadians. I've never met any of them. All I know is they range in age from 46 to 73.
On the 18th I return to Havana to meet up with a large contingent of Northeastern student-athletes, coaches, administrators and parents. Our baseball and volleyball squads will be competing against local university teams and participating in a series of cultural exchange events. We will return to the states on the 23rd, plenty of time for me to do my Christmas shopping the next day.
This morning, back in Newton, my 3:30 a.m. wake-up call came earlier than expected. I thought it unwise to bring my Apple Watch to Cuba so I got out my trusty old Timex Ironman instead. One problem, I hadn't used the Ironman in awhile so it was set to Eastern Standard time. So instead of 3:30, the alarm went off at 2:30. I lied there for awhile, my mind racing. I began wondering if I had overpacked, if I had made a mistake not purchasing extra medical insurance and whether I should have abandoned my staff during a couple of critical work projects.
Enough of that. After a few minutes of snuggling, I whispered a few things into Margot's ear, hopped out of bed, made a quick pitstop in the bathroom, wolfed down a bowl of yogurt and called for an Uber.
Five minutes later, I was chatting with Merouane in his Toyota Camry, on our way to Logan. The thermostat read 19 degrees. I was Merouane's pivot ride, his first "morning passenger" of the night/day. Until then he had been taking evening revelers home, many of whom had gone out following their company holiday parties. Merouane and I laughed as we wondered how the the partiers would explain their regretful behavior when they return to work on Monday.
After a four hour layover in Newark, the United Airlines flight departed on-time and arrived in Havana at 2:45 p.m., right on schedule. Over the next five hours nothing else went as planned and it was wonderful. I was so happy to be there that the disorganization and slow pace didn't bother me a bit.
On the plane I sat next to an American woman, Emily, who had been living in London for the past ten years. Emily's plan was to link up with a friend (who was flying in from Miami) at the airport, head into the center city for the night and then travel the island for a week. Unfortunately, when we got to the terminal, her friend was nowhere to be found. My arranged driver was missing in action too. We spent nearly an hour searching, texting (at a dollar a text) and calling. No luck.
Though our accommodations were far apart, we finally decided to share a cab. On our way the driver pointed out Raul Castro, who was sitting in the black sedan just in front of us. Pretty amazing. Earlier in the week I was watching him on TV eulogizing his brother and now there he was, driving down the street just like any other Cuban citizen. Amazing.
I was dropped off first, which I immediately regretted. I worried about Emily being alone with a stranger for a long time in search of her Airbnb. I really hope to hear from her. I want to know that she made it to her place OK and that she was able to find her friend.
My place was tucked into a nondescript neighborhood. Unfortunately, after lugging my hefty bag up three floors, I was greeted with surprise by the people in the private apartment. Through our language struggles, it became clear that they weren't expecting me, even though I had pre-paid the room. It was quite comical, them serving me coffee and me showing them photos of their apartment. I was in the correct place. Somehow however, the booking agent had screwed up and never communicated it to the apartment owners.
As luck would have it, the elderly woman across the hall, who had witnessed the commotion, had an empty room. The room had a bed, a pillow, a roof and running water. What more did I need. I took it.
I am now in the lobby of a hotel about a mile down the road. It's the only place with internet in the area. I'll probably get a quick bite to eat on the way back and then head to bed. I've got an early start. I need to meet up with the bike outfit to begin the 300 kilometer drive to Trinidad where we will start next day. I can't wait.


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Location:Havana, Cuba