Since we’ve been enduring day after day of rain, drizzle and fog here in Newfoundland—along with a touch of the white stuff yesterday—I thought it was high time to drag out photos from our last vacation off the island. Hard to believe it’s been almost two years since we flew to sunny Cuba for a week.
The weather was particularly hot and humid this time, but we found ways to keep cool with the help of pools, shady spots, a la carte dining, and lots of cold drinks.
This cloud looked like a curtain being drawn over the resort. The inevitable shower was short, sweet, and refreshing.
The bus arrives for an afternoon excursion to the town of Varadero.
And no trip to Varadero would be complete without an al fresco meal at our favourite “restaurante.” (Photos from a previous visit in the link below)
Who knows if we will ever see the Caribbean again? At least we have the Memories!
Look, I will be the first to admit it. I love all animals, but my adoration for creatures of the feline variety is mega-size and always has been. So if you think I’m a hopeless ailurophile – for those who don’t know, that’s the fancy word for cat lover – I will readily own up to it. This blog has my name on it which means there has to be a cat post now and then.
I think often about kitties of all stripes (pun intended), particularly my own. On the days leading up to our trip to Cuba earlier this month, and actually, any time we travel, I begin worrying in earnest. What do our cats think when we disappear like that, for days on end? Do they open their eyes from each nap expecting to see us, and roam from window to window, wondering what the devil has become of us? Do they fill with anxiety, for fear we shall never return?
When I voice these concerns to my husband, he gives me a patronizing smile and reassures me once again that they don’t think that way, especially as we make sure before we go that all their needs are met and we have someone checking on them. And of course they have each other. But how can he know that for certain, that they aren’t pining for us? I know he loves cats too, but does he think he can read their minds?
Wherever we go, Cuba included, little cats seem drawn to him. I’ll give him that. Like this little tomcat.
So even though I remain unapologetic and consider myself as devoted to cats as he is, and I worry more about the ones we leave behind, I wonder why they always give him the lion’s share of attention. Even the Spanish ones.
What do you think? Say anything, but please don’t call me a crazy cat lady!