Bailar? No, blisters.

Bay of Pigs might be best known for the failed invasion that the CIA attempted back in 1961. Nowadays, however, it's probably better known for its fine snorkeling. I wouldn't let the fact that I was currently on blood thinners stop me from hitting that crystal clear water, though. I'll be diving soon enough, and in the meanwhile, I don't mind just snorkeling. The site was similar to what one would find in Eilat, with sandy bottom interspersed with little hills of corals of faded pallette and loads of fish in the more colourful fashion. It wasn't a proper beach, though, so my premiere endeavour to a genuine Caribbean beach, complete with palms, sun chairs, sand bloody everywhere and piña coladas would have to wait a while.
Cienfuegos was the destination of the day, though. A colonial town, founded by the French back in the 19th century, its unique architecture welcomed us, and another casa opened their doors.
It's a tradition, or an old charter, or something, for me to visit the tomb of a communist leader, if one happens to be nearby. As Fidel is yet living, the goto guy is of course Ernesto "Che" Guevara. Che, being a national hero of the revolution, was born and raised in Argentina, and after meeting Fidel Castro in Mexico 1955 helped instigating the Cuban revolution. His job done, he travelled the world, spreading the communist word, including some time in Africa, until he was captured and shot in Bolivia in 1967. The location of his body was unknown until 1995, and after the Russians had confirmed that it indeed was him, his remains were exhumed and brought to Cuba, where a mausoleum and a memorial (Complejo Monumental Ernesto Che Guevara) was built in his honour in Santa Clara, close to the site of one of the revolutionaries' most pivotal victories.
Well worth a visit, we left Che and headed south towards another Unesco World Heritage site: Trinidad. No relation to the one with Tobago, though; Trinidad is simply Spanish for trinity, as in the holy one in christian mythology. Its colonial architecture and cobbled streets makes it one of the cosiest town in the Caribbean, as well as the trickiest to walk in with blisters on the feet.
Other than cigars, revolutions and old cars, salsa is probably what most people think when they hear 'Cuba'. A short introductory course in the noble art of moving one's feet in a certain pattern was included in the tour, and Trinidad was the place for it. Unfortunately, my blisters stopped me from participating. Darn. Yep, that's why. Blisters. The others seemed to have fun, though. 
Next morning my feet were magically better, as we drove off early to a nearby waterfall. A nice hour-long hike through the jungle, past rivers and streams and the destination was reached. Below the fall, there was a natural pool, and the steep rocks surrounding it made for jumping spots of various levels. I choose the highest point, and splashed into the refreshing water. Swimming against the current was nigh impossible close to the turbulent zone of the fall, but by swimming close to the rock walls, it was possible to get past the curtain of water and to the cave that lay beyond. A cave with bats, no less. Holy guano, Batman!
After strolling the town and climbing the tower of Museo Histórico Municipial for an excellent view of Trinidad and its surroundings, we grabbed our towels and trunks and travelled to the beach. And so I had my first Caribbean beach experience, for there were palms, sun chairs, sand bloody everywhere and piña coladas.
The day was far from over. After dinner at a jazz club we found ourselves at the bottom of the stairs to La Casa Musica, where locals and visitors alike gather with mojitos and cuba libres in hand, purchased from any of the many hole-in-the-wall handouts in the vicinity. Many of them bide their time before the clock strikes eleven, which is when Disco Ayala opens. Located high up in the hills, a fair bit of a walk from the last town house, this nightclub housed in a big cave complex is the happeningest place for yards around. Conveniently, my blisters kicked in just when it was time to hit the dance floor. Oh shoot.
The stars were out that night, but Orion was all tilted, and none of the dippers where to be found.