Intrepid Group.
I hoisted myself backwards and onto the seawall, dangling my legs over the edge.
My friends did the same before laying down against the concrete, warm from the gentle rays of Cuban sun. I watched the Caribbean Sea lap against the rocks, the classic cars stream past in every conceivable colour. Tourists and locals laughed together, called each other amigo and danced to the distant sounds of salsa that were ubiquitous in Havana. Travelling through Cuba is as close to time-travel as you can get. Watching the city from the Malecón was like being in the 70s, while old town felt more like a trip to the Colonial era.
