The boss of the travel agent gave us a mini-van and his best driver, then personally accommpanied us to the beach. This was by way of apology. It turns out that Cubans are not allowed on the beach, only tourists. So it was Northern Europeans as far as the eye can see, and security guards every 50 metres.
The van was due back in three hours and Josh wanted to go after about 30 seconds. We swam in the Carribean, just so we can say that we have done it. I had a swim in the hotel pool for want of anything else to do. The boys tried to do likewise but the spy-dobber, sitting too close to us, pretending not the speak English over heard their plan and went and told the police. They walkie- talkied ahead and the boys were turned aboud. They tried to make it into a game like latern stalk, but no luck.
Just when a bad mood was setting in two Czech guys and an American (all buff and young) approached and suggested a game of beach soccer. Clearly they picked us for easy-beats, but how wrong they were. Despite all appearances, Tony displayed some agility as goalie, Charles was his usual deadly striker self and Josh was enthusiastic. I alternated between watching and cheering and giving dirty looks to the spy-dobber. So it turned into a good time despite everything and Australia´s reputation as an athletic nation has been upheld.
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