Cuba uses two parallel currencies. On the left is what the locals use; on the right, tourists.  Local buses and ferries use local currency; some drivers simply pocketed the money when it was non-local.

In theory, US dollars were not accepted anywhere in Cuba, and ATMs there would not accept US debit or credit cards.  In fact, it is illegal for US citizens to spend money in Cuba. Our guidebooks advised bringing Euros as the best currency to bring to Cuba, so before we left Jacksonville Florida, we purchased some “walking around” cash through a local bank.  Even if we didn’t stop in Cuba, Euros were viable in the South Pacific French territories.

Dog, but no chickens on the local Havana Cuba bus.  Typically all seats were filled and standing room was 4 people deep through the aisle, end to end.

In a land ruled by rules, often the contrary approach is the more efficient one.

Pauli, our Havana Vieja (Old Town) pedicab driver and his wife, who wondered what the heck took him so long.

The next day ”Gorilla” exchanged 20 Euros for 20 CUCs and Walter on Christina insisted on loaning us some more to get us on our way. 

Pauli the pedicab driver, careening down the streets of Havana.

The first bus we took, we got off too early.   The second bus we took the wrong way.  The third bus was a long time in coming, but successfully transported us to our destination. The double-long bus was packed, often four people deep standing in the aisles.  Impressively, we saw passengers carrying floppy open flats of two dozen eggs aboard!  Despite not making many stops, it took over an hour to arrive at our desired end of the line destination, the train station in Havana’s Old Town “Viejo Habana.” 

New Year’s eve dinner of “la pulpa” – octopus, in a  garlic sauce. Always feel a bit guilty eating one of the smartest sea critters so on those rate occasions, I make sure it’s very well made. On the side, the best mojito I’ve had to date.

Pauli, our young driver spoke little English, and Wayne speaks a little “muy malo” Spanish.  Later, when we hit other communication roadblocks, Pauli pulled out the translation app on his mobile.  “Type in English,” he directed. 

Pedicab with passengers followed by a similar jalopy transporting produce.  Yes, Cuba have cars, buses and trucks, too.

At last, excitedly, that one last “Just one more,” did indeed lead us to a place to stay.  It only recently became a casa de particular and had not yet posted its sign on the street.

Jose Marti Theater Havana Cuba, New Year’s Eve. Like many of Old Havana’s architectural treasures, it’s undergoing reconstruction.

Pepe, the owner of casa de particular told us Pauli called the next day to make sure everything went ok.  “He was very respectful.  Many drivers will try to step inside, which is not okay.  Pauli was honest – I could see it in his eyes.  And he knew his place; he did not step inside.  He also called me on a phone number with his phone that cost him more money to call.”