A beginners guide to Pigistentialism

This piece has caused some minor offence to an old friend of communist leanings, and my favourite Francophile.

Following the success of recent potted philosophy studies by Alain de Boton (formerly of Gonville and Caius, Cambridge), France's greatest philosopher has rushed into print before he himself became potted pate.

Introduction

Jeune-Porc Sartre was known as France's greatest living rive gauche philosopher until he died.

Piece en chef

He was famous for his pessimistic statement of existential philosophy, the roman philosophique the 'Roads to Bacon', in which he identified himself as a gallant French patriot liberated from all normal human responsibilities sacrificing his life to defend French soil from advancing sausage eaters with superior fire power.

Actually during the guerre he did suffer. He was served hors d'oevre d'ordure which remains the staple of his fellow Gallic porcines aujourd' wheeee!

Inspired by this he wrote an even greater work entitled 'Roots are freedom', recounting France's painful recovery from the shame of the glazed carrot government sometimes known as Vichy.

Jeune-Porc's life long sty mate was Sow-Moan de Beauvoir.

Sow-Moan finished a narrow second to him in their University finals' examinations. From that moment she was a living witness to Jeune-Porc's assertions about free will, as he exercised free will not to do washing, ironing, dusting or vacuuming.

She also found that Jeune-Porc exerted considerable powers persuading the youth of many nations as to the self evident essential truth of his views. Often she heard squeals of OUIIIII!, OUUUUI!, OUUIIII!, coming from the many young Swedish sows who enjoyed Jeune-Porc's personal tuition in his stydy. She new that they must be in agreement with him, but why the tutorial always ended with the teacher and pupil emerging from the study covered in straw remained a mystery.

Jeune-Porc's position among the nouveau gauche became firmly established, by his life long failure to ever put up a set of bookshelves. He always managed to hit the nail firmly on the trotter at the critical moment. Once he put the nail through his totter, the inspiration of his most famous single work, 'Iron in the Sole'.

Jeune-Porc thought the most important element of humanity was essence. Some cynics think that the 2000 refinery picketing may show he had a point.

Avant le verite!

J-P S

Author's post scrotum (shouldn't that be scriptum? ed)

J-P S is posthumously suing a tobacco company over the use of initials to promote a brand of cheap Virginia cigarettes avec filtres. As you may know, the packet had the same black with gold stripe colours as some of those Ford Capris, which are so popular with Essex people .

He wanted J-P S to be used for oval Turkish brand, so etnique that the tobacco falls out at both ends, and the paper sticks to one's upper lip, suiting the horny handed sons and daughters of the soil who have their hands fully occupied at all times.

Ironically this very type of baton de confort carcinogenique pour les ouvriers was marketed under the brand name, 'Busy Goths'. They sold best to effete urbanites, and the campest of campus campesinos.

John Moore

Jean de la Bruyere

Chicken Piaf

Je ne regrette rien other than buying an Edith Piaf record

Bennet's Wallaby and Joey

Bennet's Wallaby and Joey

"Every girl crazy 'bout a sharp dressed man" - ZZ Top

I return home from Cuba, and what happens? Fidel decides to retire. I swear that I had no influence on him. I wish him a happy retirement. Perhaps Cuba will open up a bit for business now, but please no Starbucks, Wendy's or MacDonald's. They make travel pointless, and once you have Starbucks, you can't get a decent cup of coffee, anywhere.

And who the hell wants a blueberry muffin anyway?

Why don't anti globalisation protesters attack Starbucks in preference to MacDonald's, smashing the windows with day old muffins. At least when I have been in a MacDonald's I have enjoyed what I was eating, even if it did me no good. I can't say the same of my two visits to Starbucks.

Amersham Tesco's used to have a wonderful cheap and cheerful all day British Breakfast Greasy Spoon cafeteria, full of nice customers who weren't too rich or too bent on proving that they as a woman can be every bit as nasty, pushy and unpleasant as a man. Now it's got a Starbucks.

Cuba has a lot going for it:

1. Its people who are even nicer than the British back in the 40s and 50s when the latter had just fought off Nazism and were justifiably proud of it.

2. Its gorgeous weather in Winter.

3. Its Spanish Colonial Architecture.

4. Its defiance of the US desire to dominate and make everyone a buyer of its products and culture.

5. The literary heritage of exiles like Graham Greene and Ernest Hemingway.

6. The warm waters of its coast.

7. Its education.

8. Its healthcare

9. The government's encouragement of the arts, and their vitality.

10. Its people get a boringly healthy diet.

11. It is the world's greatest open-air automotive museum full of working models.

12. It has no Starbucks.

Viva la Cuba Libre

Marxism and Cigars

Cigars put me in mind of this piece of dialogue in a Marx brothers film.

Man: "I have fourteen children. I love my wife very dearly"

Groucho: "Well I love my cigar, but I take it out of my mouth occasionally"

The background temperature of the Universe is three degrees Kelvin

If the background temperature is 3 degrees, does that mean we can hear Sheila Ferguson anywhere in spacetime?

I post this photograph not so much for the charms of the building but for the attractiveness of its floral decoration.

As my father once wrote to my granny from the top secret location of HMS Arthur (Butlin's Skegness): "Arn't these flowers lovely, mother".

On the picture side of the postcard were bulb fields near Spalding. It was an undoubted clue to his whereabouts, Lincolnshire

The message was so sparse and bare of sentiment, I am mildly surprised that it did not excite suspicion in 1940, as being a coded cover for something more sinister.

It was probably followed by a further 6 months communication silence. During this time he learned boat drill on the boating lake, with a tethered boat and oars with holes in them, so as not to overstrain the tether. Clearly our Jolly Jack Tars would not be taking on the U-boat menace, under-prepared.

A lovely mudéjar style building, roughly opposite the Sevilla Hotel arcade in Havana. I photographed it on Friday 8/2/08 with my Nokia 5070 phone

An architectural gem

A small Hispanic architectural gem from near the "Bodeguita" and the Cathedral. I took the photograph with my phone on 8/8/2008 while standing in a really scruffy car park with holes in it. The corrugated iron shack in the front, is the parkie's place.

Bacardi Building, Havana 08/02/08

One for any Essex Girl. The place where your breezer originated. The Bacardi Ron building in Havana, an Art Deco masterpiece of which no post cards seemingly exist. An Essex girl may ask: 'What happened to Ron?" Well after Fidel, Raul, Che, Camilo and the rest of the Barbuta Boys hit town, he do ron ron, da do ron ron all the way to the USA, along with Batista and a number of American businessmen of Italian descent who may or may not have been personally acquainted with Frank Sinatra.

Raul's 53 Oldsmobile Convertible with Gianni Moroni in the back outside the Grande Parque hotel

Me in Raul's 53 Oldsmobile Convertible. Photograph courtesy of Charles Bronson lookalike, Raul.

The legend, 'Rentar una Fantasía' on the side of the car refers to the car and not it's occupant, ladies and gentlemen.

Raul and his beautiful '53 Oldsmobile Convertible

Raul and his beautiful '53 Oldsmobile Convertible with red leather upholstery and white walled tyres, outside the hotel Parque Grande. I took a tour of Havana in it. Vehicles like this are frequently used for weddings with the bride perched precariously on the boot, (sorry trunk), riding in triumph through Havana.

Vedado across the promenade

I took this shot from the back of Ramon's Oldsmobile taxi as we were driving along the promenade. I think the large L-shaped building is Melia Hotel where our party spent the first night in Havana. I woke up pulled back the curtains, and there was just Atlantic Ocean and sky. It looked beautiful, warm blue-green and inviting, but I had to get ready and go. I went to breakfast. I met Tina. I was able to point out the black pudding. It was a tasty delight for us both.

Nacional Hotel, Havana, Cuba

The impressive facade of the Nacional Hotel, Havana. I took it from the back of Ramon's taxi as we drove along the promenade. It is another part of Havana's splendid Art Deco heritage.

The Nacional has seen very many infamous guests including Frank Sinatra, Ava Gardner, Errol Flynn, Meyer Lansky and Santo Trafficante Jr (the head of the Florida Mafia. Al Capone once rented a suite as he did with the Lexington Hotel in his power base, Chicago.

The old man and the spiv - Papa and me at El Floridita, Havana, Thursday 7 Feb 2008

A photograph of me enjoying a daiquiri with 'Papa' Hemingway at El Floridita in Havana. Ernest looks very bronzed. Tina took the Photograph. The cocktail was expensive but did have an Atkinson of Ron in it.

Perhaps my appearance evokes unhappy memories of the Batista days for the Cuban in front who appears to recoil. I do look like the sort of man that the FBI might want to Hoover up.

As Cuba's statues of Hemingway and Che show, there is an 'Importance of Being Ernest' in Cuba.

Eeyore perks up

When I first spotted him, this particular mule had his head down, looking just like Eeeyore the donkey. It seemed as though he perked up at the moment he saw my camera on him, wanting to look his best for what could be his only photo-opportunity. This was taken at about 08:10 am in Spritus Sancti

Dinner alfresco under the colonnades in Spiritus Sancti

Clockwise from the left, Gabriela, Tina, Sue, Ken, Jacinta, Roy (probably) or John, Dinah.

The Spanish colonial building was delightful, but a plug for the washbasin would be appreciated.

Waterfall at the Parque Nacional

Our delightful guide reminds us where we are

Our guide to the National park at Guanayama, shows us the route. Our guide was lovely with a bright personality, ready smile and good sense of fun. She was a delight to be with, and made the walk interesting with her observations of the wildlife and features of the route through this delightful area. Her English was very good. I cannot praise her too highly.

We saw lizards, a hummingbird and the trogon, Cuba's national bird.

Batista Bombastica

This is a spa hotel up in the mountains. It's open for business and is probably a refreshing resort in the humid summer

It's overbearing appearance made me think that it had been designed by Soviet bloc architects, when such bombast was in fashion.

Nothing could be further from the truth. It was put up under Batista.

The Zil ex red army lorry awaits the VJV patrol at around 08:30 at Las Cuevas. In front of the lorry are our guide Mariela in red and the lorry driver. The trip which followed was a highlight of the holiday. I thought that the lorry tyres were a bit worn and small, as though the Siberian winter class originals, had been substituted with a set off a Morris Countryman.

Yo may remember that the Morris Countryman was the vehicle of choice for modest, genteel folk to tour the Cotswolds. They rarely went more than 100 miles from Cowley.

Perhaps the lorry was discovered jacked up on bricks in Wazzockstan; it's original wheels now adorning a 4x4 bullock cart.

Zil Limo

The Zil truck which took the VJV party from las Cuevas, Trinidad to the mountain national park for the day. The truck was robust. It was really nice to travel up top in beautiful scenery over rough roads, sometimes standing up, knees bent clinging on and half wedged to avoid the effect of the more dangerous bits of road. The driver did really well. We wouldn't be allowed to travel that way in Britain. The health and safety Nazis wouldn't allow it.

The Zil was ex-Soviet Army. It has had a very honourable discharge.

The Zil will become the latest aspirational vehicle for the school run.

The fit members of the VJV 2/2 to 9/2/08 "Return to Havana" tour loll on the beach after bathing

The members of the VJV 2/2 to 9/2/08 "Return to Havana" tour who are still fit, loll on the beach after bathing near Trinidad, on Cuba's Caribbean coast. Wisely, Tina in black stays in the shade, here looking like Kate Bush, which is appropriate for a lover of the Brontes. John Daniels in red is talking to her. Sue with white towel covers up. I think it is Gabriela who is lying back. Amelita is looking very pert and sophisticated in her sun visor. Not for the first time Brian Williams resembles the Cubiquitous 'Papa' Hemingway.

We all went in the Carribean except Tina. It was warmer than the sea off Southwold, but there wasn't a pier where you could listen to a recording of the Buena Vistas all afternoon.

Thank you Tina for lending me the bus fare back to the hotel.

We were about to encounter the hotel's jobsworth again. He was a park keeper manque worthy of portrayal by Derek Guyler. Previously he had stopped us using sunbeds or resting under the hotel's umbrellas. He took Winston Churchill's exhortation to repel invaders on the beaches too literally. He never surrendered. I am pleased to relate that this was the only instance of officiousness we found in what is supposed to be a totalitarian state. Everyone else was warm, friendly and welcoming.

The graininess of all my photos puts me in mind of Seurat.

¡Viva los Cubanos y las Cubanas!

Iguana

At a comfort stop between Havana and Cienfuegos was a small menagerie. Among the detainees, behind chain link fencing, was this handsome but lugubrious lizard.

Cienfuegos - a corner of the main Plaza

This is not my picture. This particular roll of film produced no results after it Tesco's labs had processed it. However this is one of my favourite buildings in all Cuba. It is at a corner of the main square in Cienfuegos. It used to belong to a rich man who once entertained the Italian tenor, Enrico Caruso, and who was in the habit of throwing money to the poor from the roof. It is now the home of a music school.

Alfonso y su Verson play at the bar of the Rum Museum.

Amid the distortions of fierce mid day sunlight streaming into the lens, Alfonso and the band play boleros and cha cha cha and salsa and guajira (must be Cuban country music). Sue applauds in the right of the foreground.

Our guide to the Rum museum was a most attractive Muleta girl with more african genes than European. She had an exuberant afro hair style the like of which I had not seen since they heyday of Free (in the imperative) Angela Davis and Jimi Hendrix.

Bar Habana Club

The bar Havana Club at the rum museum was my favourite in Cuba. I loved the dark stained mahogany covered surfaces and the overhead fans, and the lovely music from Alfonso Pino y su Verson. With the barrels outside it bore a superficial resemblance to Yates's wine bar on Long Row, Nottingham in about 1969. There were differences. The Havana Club was mostly populated with tourists. Yates's had more Caribbean customers than the Havana Club. Yates's had women who looked like Devine the drag artist, before Devine ever did, and girls who looked like Amy Winehouse but never gave off the same air of sober restraint.

Alfonso collects

Alfonso Pino the leader and composer of Pino y su Veron sells CDs and collects "Nobbins" at the bar of the rum museum. My apologies that I have managed to get the entire picture out of focus. Normally I only do that with the main focus of interest.

They're bootiful

The national monument at Revolution Square. The black flying object situated against the cloud is the turkey vulture which is found everywhere on the island. On the ground, it does indeed resemble the traditional table bird of Christmas, which came into England in the same year as 'Heresy, Hops and Beer' according to the rhyme, making it about 1521.

The statue in the shade is of the national hero of the war of independence, José Martí.

"Hasta La Victoria, siempre!"

The "Wolfie" Smith outline representation in Revolution Square, Havana. This is taken from the popular image in which we wears his man of destiny expression. I really had no idea, he was quite so popular here. Quite a feat for an actor from Ilkeston.

The legend reads: "Hasta La Victoria, siempre!", until the victory always. The former Cuban industry minister's sign off statement should not be confused with that of the governor of California, which is 'Hasta la vista baby'.

Tricycle Taxis

If Lance Armstrong is getting bored, Cuba needs him. I'd bet on the steroid powered beast over coco the clown any day.

Meanwhile is that ZZ Top cruisin' past the blue colonnades, which are even cooler than a barbuted Texan boogie band.

A Capitol copy

One of my favourite photographs for proportion, focus, contrast and vanishing point. An impressive life-size Cuban copy of the more famous building in Washington DC.

Cadillac?

A pink (cadillac?) cruises past a gorgeous mint green saloon

Cuba's multi-faceted public transport

Illustrating Havana's transport for hire: the 3-wheeled, motor-cycle engined coco taxi in the foreground, a taxi, an American convertible, but not the normal yellow cab livery as that apparent red chequer pattern is in fact flames. This may be tempting fate. There is a yellow American style school-bus parked down the side street of the 3 storied colonnaded building. Finally, most reliable and eco-friendly, and significantly the only one in motion is the pedal tricycle rickshaw.

The edge of the capitol building with the performing arts theatre in the background. Some of our party went to the ballet here. The Cubans in the foreground are typical of the mix on the island.