The commanding heights of Havana are controlled by two imposing forts on the east side of Havana Harbor. They’re impossible to miss from the Malecon, and for nearly four hundred years, with the exception of a brief British interlude, they kept Havana safe as a rallying point for Spanish galleons laden with successive waves of Aztec, Inca, and native-mined riches.
I slept nearly 11 hours last night, which is unheard of for me.
I woke up this morning and took my breakfast in the street, a shot of thick, syrupy sweet coffee decanted and consumed in a crumbling doorway. Caffinated and high from an unhealthy dose of sugar, I proceeded to the Museo de la Revolucion. Continue reading “March 12, 2017: Havana, Cuba – Daylight Savings in the Time of Revolution”