I decided to give the barrier island beaches one more chance and headed out early after a quick (and awful) breakfast at the hotel. I arrived at Wrightsville Beach around 9am and found it pretty crowded already. And though I found the town a little more appealing than some I have driven through, I finall
y had to throw up my hands and say “OK, I’ll pay to park.” Only to get to the pay station and find a sign that said “Don’t worry, you don’t have to pay until March 1.” So, finally I got another walk on the beach.. Most of the shells
were broken but what caught my attention was the waves crashing under the pier and the surfers.
Oh my, the surfers. I got pretty frustrated trying to photograph them from the beach as the sun was in my eyes and I could not see a thing on the camera’s screen
. Then I finally got the bright idea of going up on the pier to shoot. I gladly paid my $2.00 and had a great time and a great view of the surfers. I just wish more of them had been better surfers as the ratio of standing to sitting out behind the surf was pretty low.
Eventually I did have to push on to New Bern but I finally felt satisfied that I had had a positive beach experience to add to my outstanding time at Bald Head Island.
Just over the bridge is downtown Wilmington but I could not check into my hotel until 3pm so I went in search of lunch at a little shopping center called the Cotton Exchange. After wandering around for a while not finding any serious restaurants some guy invited me to come taste his fudge and I said “You, know, I’m really looking for lunch.” And he said “Oh, that place over there is great.” So I went in and found them serving down home Southern Comfort food. I ordered an Oyster Po’ Boy and fried okra. I would never have thought to eat fried okra but it was forced on me once in Carlsbad, New Mexico and I found I really liked it so now I eat it when I get the chance, which isn’t often.
galleries and souvenir shops. But my parking meter was about to expire so I had to move on. I had set my sights on the Railroad museum in hopes of finding some good steam punk images but was sad to see that most of the museum was model railroads and there was only one real train outside. I stopped in at the visitor’s center next door and picked up some literature from a very strange woman who seemed to think that browsing at a visitor’s center was not acceptable. One must ask very specific questions, one must know exactly what one is looking for.
At this point I decided I might as well try to get into my hotel room since I was tired and I had no more change for parking meters and couldn’t find the entry to the Riverwalk. The Wilmingtonian turned out to be a collection of old buildings refurbished but about ready for another round and smelling strongly of mildew which is clinging to my clothes even now. But the price was right, the bed was comfortable and the shower was hot. I could have lived without the loudmouth on the balcony just across from my window though.
my friend had recommended was just a few blocks from me and I headed out just before sunset. Since it was right on the river and had an outdoor deck and the temperatures were very mild I sat down and ordered a glass of wine and some shrimp and grits and watched the sun set over the Cape Fear. Unfortunately my waitress was apparently doing the same and service was a bit on the slow side so it was well after dark when I made my way back to the Wilmingtonian.
Next morning I set out to explore downtown and take pictures of architectural details. I actually found the widow displays and some unusual signs to be the best subjects. I stumbled upon a café called the Dixie Grille which seemed to be about the only place serving breakfast. But, no matter, the cops were eating there so it had to be good. And it was. I ordered the Dixie Benedict. A biscuit, scrambled eggs, fried green tomatoes smothered with Vidalia onion gravy. OK, I think I have check all the boxes on Southern Cuisine now.
Brunswick County which were a huge disappointment to this native Oregonian. All the beaches are lined with houses and access is limited, parking lots often charging for the privilege. And while the good news is the temperatures have been in the 70s. The bad news is the locals are all flocking to the beaches. Hoping to get an earlier start today and exploring beaches further to the north and getting some decent photos.
We were then taken to a seaside village which appeared very poor but where a retired surgeon and his wife had opened a restaurant called Julio, specializing in seafood. The house was set out over the water and on that day waves were crashing all around making one wonder how it had ever survived a hurricane. We were served a sumptuous lunch of seafood including, fish, clams, lobster, and shrimp. Appetizers include
d fried banana cups filled with tuna fish and calamari. As always the ubiquitous rice and beans. Desert was some sort of candied orange and cheese, not really to my taste. I left feeling quite stuffed. by the time lunch was over the rain had abated and I was able to get a few interesting shots around the village.
We stopped on the way back at a neighborhood where an artist had covered the walls with mosaic and created sculptures not only at his own house but for many of
his neighbors. It was apparentlymeant as a tribute to Gaudi. Unfortunately, a huge tour bus arrived just after us so we were not able to fully enjoy the art. This was the one place outside Havana that I saw a full fledged gift shop, albeit in someone’s front yard. Alas, still no t-shirt that spoke to me.
We then proceeded to an old cemetery that took up at least 16 city blocks. You might ask what the heck do you photograph at a cemetery? Like Valle Prehistorica this required a little creative openness and thought toward future processing. I started off with angels but then realized that about 90% of the monuments were angels and I could not possibly get them all and after all, how many angels do you need even for future creative elements. I then started in on windows and doors of the mausoleums and decorative iron fences.
I also got some great textures for future digital artistry projects.
wiped off the blood with a kleenex then poured hand sanitizer over it. I later had Dr. Norm look at it and he washed it again with bottled water and more purell and kept checking it the rest of the trip. It seems to be healing up just fine.
which were delicious, not like the over lean pork we get in the U.S. There was a luscious cervice for a starter, rice and beans, of course, and flan with ice cream for dessert. And we had wine which is hard to come by and expensive in Cuba. There was a jazz trio p
laying and since we were the only table it seemed to be just for us. We all bought their CD, which, it turns out, is my only souvenir from Cuba, there not being much to buy in the first place and lacking quality in the second place and probably not made in Cuba in the third place.
behind the hotel. There I found some of the most abject poverty, not to mention filth, I have ever encountered. I also found some of the best street photography of the entire trip. Still, I soon proceeded back to the rich side of the hotel and photographed old cars for a while.
At 10:30 we were whisked off to the airport where we said goodbye to Leonel and were left on our own to negotiate the lines. First we went to the money changing line. They said, “Sorry, we have no American Dollars” then we were told 
to go over to another window and were taken one by one into a small room. They locked the door and a man in a suit proceeded to exchange my CUCs for American dollars, one to one. They ran out of dollars before we were all through the line and some of our party had to exchange their CUCs for Euros to be exchanged for dollars when they got back home.
Next was the line for checking in for our flight. I had needed to go to the restroom when we arrived but could not find one so stood in the line for half an hour with my legs crossed. Finally, I got the counter and checked in and got rid of my suitcase and asked for the banos. Sure enough way past customs and down a narrow hall was the ladies room. I started to go into a stall and an airport worker yelled “Paper” reminding me that in Cuba you have to obtain your toilet paper before going into the stall.
security which was not too bad though I tried to ask the woman if she wanted my computer out but she was intent on telling me to take my belt off until I finally lifted my shirt to show her I didn’t have a belt on. Then, of course, on the other side I was asked to take the laptop out so they could scan the bag without it. And then we proceeded to sit and wait for our flight which was only an hour late and that’s pretty good for Cuba time.
I have to say up front that I had 350 images to sift through this day, more than any other day. I loved most of them and it was very hard to choose which to share.
We met in the lobby of the hotel before breakfast to walk the five or six blocks to a traditional market where the meat was being butchered before our eyes and all manner of fruits and vegetables were for sale. Everyone was going
about their business and not paying much attention to the crazy American photographers. I think I have enough good photos from there alone for a show by themselves.
Back to the hotel for lovely buffet breakfast then into the van for a trip to Ernest Hemingway’s house. I did not realize that he lived in Cuba
e kept 
his house as a museum just as he and his wife left it. The rooms are filled with books, and art, and animal head trophies adorn every wall. While they do not allow you to go into the house, all the windows and doors are open for viewing the rooms. At the top left is his library, below that the living room, notice the bull fighting poster and the well stocked bar. On the right is his tower room where he could go to write, take a nap or spy on the women at the swimming pool with his telescope.
We then went to the village of Cojimar where Hemingway used to dock his boat and where he got the inspiration for The Old Man and the Sea from an actual incident that happened there. We had a huge lunch which started with a honey mojito (by this point in the trip our slogan was “drink it fast before the ice melts” and I was already taking Cipro and Imodium to counteract an episode the night before, so what the heck). The drink was followed by two rounds of appetizers, a main course which included chicken, beef, fish, and lobster, vegetables, rice and beans. Rice pudding was served for dessert. I tried it but only confirmed that I st
ill do not like rice pudding. Down at the waterfront we were serenaded by musicians. The old man in the wheelchair had a sign that said “I have ailment Parkinson’s,” possibly an asset for shaking the maracas. He still sang well though. We walked along
At 4pm we were loaded into three old convertibles. A pink Chevy, a red Ford, and a Turquoise Buick. I was riding in the Chevy which was probably in the worst condition but we had hands down the best looking driver.
We went first to see the Christ of Havana statue. At 60ft it is the second largest statue of Christ after the one in Rio. Interestingly, the statue was commissioned by Batista’s wife in 1958 and was completed a week before the Revolution.
Next, we hopped back into the cars to visit an old fort built between 1763 and 1774 by the Spanish. Here we had a marvelous view of an amazing sunset and we even got to see a cruis
e ship leaving town. The cars dropped us off at another American café, very
e until 8:35. But at least it was on time. We were in Havana with luggage in hand by 10:15 and picked up by our new driver Lasero, who did not speak English, but who drove a very similar van to David’s and he whisked us away to the Hotel Inglaterra on the border between Central Havana (dating to the 19th century) and Havana Viejo (old Havana, dating 
to the 16th century). Our hotel was just next door to the very ornate Opera House and just a block from the national capitol building which was having its dome restored.
because it was the only one on the menu that didn’t say it came with vegetables. Unfortunately, it did anyway. It also had three slices of bread with about a tablespoon of tuna salad between each slice. I peeled off the lettuce and made do with my tuna flavored bread. 
the park filled with old cars now serving as taxis so I did some detail work there. While there are some newer cars from Russia and China, in Havana the old American
the trunk where he had a 20 gallon jerry can with hoses running out of it. Ron pointed to it and asked “Is that your gas tank?” The man grinned and said “Si, welcome to Cuba.” Regardless of condition, the old cars are considered a national treasures. Still, I have a hunch many will find themselves on boats home if relations with the U.S. continue to normalize.
AT 4:30pm we were picked up by the van and taken to Old Havana for a walking tour which ended up lasting for 2 ½ hours. I was exhausted with sore feet by the end and it was too dark for photographs. Lionel said
“You are photographers, you need to walk around.” Well, yeah, but in the light of day please and with a rest break every hour or so. The architecture was beautiful and I would be happy to return some day to photograph more… in the light of day.
We ended up at a restaurant where we were directed up a narrow spiral staircase to a private room. I had Ropa Vieja, a sort of shredded meat dish, in this case lamb. It was served with the ubiquitous rice and beans and some very tasty appetizers. I especially liked the fried plantain basket with seasoned ground beef.
Then we hopped in the van for a trip to Valle Prehistorica, a park with lots of old statues of dinosaurs, mastadons and such. I found the texture of their sides most interesting to photograph but thought I might come up with something artistic using the more creative software and here a couple of examples using Topaz Glow. Possib
ilities still abound. I did some motion blurs with the horses and they almost look real but I need to take more time to work on them. I’m pretty
Next up was a trip to a car museum. Unfortunately most of the cars were victims of very bad paint jobs and far from complete restorations. Bu
t old car abstracts are one of my favorite things and the brilliant colors, though inexpertly applied did add interest to my photos.
Some people in the group had expressed an interest in photographing sports so, after a short rest back at the casas, we headed out to a boxing gym to do some shots of fighters wo
rking out. It was interesting but not my style in the long run. Though I did get some decent shots. What I will ever do with them I have no idea.
We stopped to buy bottled water on the way home and the van ran over a broken bottle. David, bless his heart, tried to get us home before the tire went flat but didn’t make it. We could see the Cathedral from where we were and offered to walk home but Lionel, said no, just wait. As always, Santiago offered up some colorful images while we were waiting.
it takes to change a flat tire the answer is 9. One to take the picture and eight to watch. It’s also helpful if you have a couple of Cubans, one to supervise and one to do the actual work. It turned out David had never changed a tire before but he got through it in spite of all the “help”.
Next, we went to a town called El Cobre, the name of which has something to do with its history as a copper mining center. But its real claim to fame is a cathedral that is dedicated to the patron saint of Cuba and a popular site for pilgrims with and without religion. The full name of the chu
rch reflects its Spanish heritage: The Basilica de Nuestra Senora de la Caridad del Cobre. The church was not that impressive (austere says my
come back up and it seemed to consist of a lot of vendors intent on selling flowers and trinkets to tourists so I don’t know that the photography would have been very satisfying. And, as there was no place to eat lunch we soon headed back to Santiago.
one cannot be a member of the communist party and be an active participant in religion there are not a lot of overt signs of religion as might be experienced in other former Spanish colonies. On the other hand I did not get the sense that religion was banned outright either. Churches remain as churches and there were certainly plenty of pilgrims at the Basilica. Papal visits have been allowed and I spotted a nun reading on the balcony of a building nearby. Our driver was the son of a Seventh Day Adventist minister and he owns his own van and tour company as well as a farm so having a religious background does not seem to be a deterrent to success in the new relaxed economy. I also understand from my reading that vestiges of African religious practices brought in with slavery are still alive and well in Cuba.
After lunch we were turned loose to explore the local neighborhood but the directions for the meeting point and time were not clear. We found an art gallery just around the corner. I’m always hesitant to photograph other peoples art and call it my own but I tried to transform this piece enough to at least make it a shared effort.
when I finally spied the van, everyone aboard except our guide who was out looking for me. I still don’t know where they met up or how long they were looking for me. Of course, I had money, I knew where I lived and taxis were abundant so I don’t think it would have been a complete disaster even if we hadn’t connected. On the upside, I got some of my most interesting images during this episode.
We then headed back to the waterfront for sunset. A few nice silhouettes and color on the water pictures. Well, that might be an understatement. I kind of had a field day with the sunset. And finally, back to the casas for a rest before regathering at one of the casas for a “family dinner” which ended up costing more than any of our 
restaurant meals so far. Once again I had grilled chicken, not much choice this time, accompanied by rice and sweet potato fries. I went off the reservation and ate some of the salad because the guide and the doctor sitting next to me thought it might be OK. Lionel, our local guide, brought a bottle of rum which he said was the best you could get in Cuba. I enjoyed it but after two beers did not feel like indulging too much.
I awoke this morning to gunfire, which I thought was odd as Lionel had assured us there were no guns in Cuba. Then I realized it was the 21 gun salute for Fidel Castro as his ashes were interred in a private ceremony just outside of Santiago, his home ci
ty.
, we were told, was badly damaged by hurricane Sandy and the houses were mostly small and 
in bad repair (to put it mildly). People were out and about working in boats, doing laundry, and perhaps visiting neighbors. Children were riding around on bikes and trikes, dogs wandered everywhere, but there were no cars. One fellow jumpe
d up and insisted on posing next to a banana tree. I offered him a tip which, of course, was what he was hoping for.
environment.We were told we could walk around the island in 25 minutes. For photographers, maybe more like an hour or two. I went around one way then started back the other way and saw many things I had missed from the other perspective.
At noon, we adjourned for lunch at a state owned restaurant. It was very high class and seemed to be catering to tour groups. We all had a seafood plate with lobster, fish, shrimp, and calamari. And two bottles of water, still no cerveza allowed.
We returned to the Parque and walked back to our casas for a siesta, regrouping after two hours to explore new parts of Santiago including the Plaza de la revolution which had been the site of a speech by Raul Castro the previous evening. My guide book describes the Plaza as “soulless” and I think that is an apt description. I found pho
tographing the passing cars, buses, trucks being used as buses, bicycles, and motorcyles much more interesting. We then adjourned to a waterfront park but the light was mostly gone so we vowed to return closer to sunset another