That said, a few friends have already been incredibly generous. Gifts have arrived in the post, been hand-transported from Texas, and tonight one colleague invited us around to raid his baby supplies – and we came away with a carload of awesome kit perfectly suited for Hippo’s arrival.

Hippo’s the first grandchild on either side of the family (there are a few grand nieces and nephews about, but not that many), so we’re the first ones to have to get this stuff since we were kids. So we’re unbelievably grateful to you all. Please, take a bow. And our thanks.

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If you’re more into the environmental side of things, my friend Damian is reporting from the conference for Prospect (and has been writing for the BBC in the run-up to it). All worth checking out, and a great overview of some of the issues under discussion and (on Prospect) a feel for the show.

Sorry for lack of posts of late. There’s been no new soup, work’s been manic, as has the Christmas routine which has seen us away most weekends. Expect blogging between Christmas and New Year, as I attempt DIY and to resume my fitness regimen.

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LOTSA nice wine
2 races to the sea at night
1 batch of throwing rocks and rocks
2x 5k runs to East Wittering & back (from WW)
1x 13th place ‘Special Award’ in Go-Kart tourney
1x Aston Martin drive
1x Boat drive
1x rubber ring tow behind said boat
1x Morris Minor drive
2x swims in sea (in September, in England)
1x session of dance music in a barn in the middle of nowhere (Thursdays, people)
2x absinthe and some other unspecified alcoholic beverages
12x candles & flame torches welcoming us home at 4am on Saturday
17x superhero t-shirts
LOTSA BACON
Some marmite

And crucially:
18x amazing friends and friend’s parents hosting us.

I may supplement this list as other bits of awesomeness I experienced this weekend resurface in memory…

Gradually getting back to normal today…

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Check out the blog, where you’ll learn some fascinating facts about the creation of fine footwear and other things related to living well.

I don’t own a pair yet, but I’m very envious of Arvind’s shoes!

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The whole concept of picking up and relocating my life, however, is not one I find palatable and am happy to leave David to it. It’s sad to see him go, and great chat and Harrison Ford impressions will have to wait until he works out Skype, but at least I’ll have somewhere to stay when I’m in Buenos Aires.

I may need to take up golf, first, of course. I understand its an essential component of the expat existence over there.

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James and Matt introduced me to the finer points of the game, and Damo’s playing now too… We’re on Pokerstars (I’m div6 if you want to find me)… and you can check my recent form on Sharkscope.com – a bit up and down recently…

I think I enjoy poker for the human element — they say you’re meant to play the people, not the hands you’re dealt. I’m still probably a little too conservative but am getting better and have had a decent couple of weeks of form. Looking forward to another tournament at the Gutshot, a club near Farringdon where I occasionally play live tournaments…

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But it was wonderful for other reasons too. The music, the atmosphere – the crowds, both a boon and a curse – and the general ethic of the whole thing. Anti-social behaviour was derided as ‘not very Glastonbury,’ everyone was discussing things in terms of previous festivals, the solstice at the Stone Circle was quite special and the group of friends we were with were fantastic. I’ve already bought Damo and Matt B some Somerset Cider for their help in relocating us when our campsite flooded on the Saturday…!

Things I didn’t like: the LONG walk from carpark to campsite with heavy pack (I’m out of shape :-(), the mud, the toilets (I know they’re better than they were, but the long drops are only less gross than the portaloos, they’re still worse than everything else), the crowds, the lack of many places to sit down and rest between bands.

Bands I saw (this the important bit for me)… Mr Hudson & the Library, Mik Artistik, The Guillemots, The Fratellis, Lily Allen, Helen Boulding, Rodrigo y Gabriela, Mika, Rufus Wainwright, The Pipettes, Super Furrys (from a distance), Maximo Park (from a distance)… and probably a couple more. I persuaded Amanda to leave early on the Sunday as I wasn’t too well, so was sad to miss the Chiefs on Sunday evening, but still managed to have a wonderful time.

Photos on Flickr if you need proof ;-).

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Although not technically a relative, Uncle Genga was family. A friend of my Dad’s since the early 70s, we know his family, we looked forward to him shouting up for Daddy as he walked around the neighbourhood in the evenings with his dog and/or his family, and I’m pretty sure he was strongly influential in my father buying the family home where he did (around the corner from Genga & family).

Uncle Genga was as proud of our successes as My Dad is of Genga’s son’s — and, whilst we didn’t speak a great deal, he would make a point of grabbing us when we visited home for holidays and ask us about each aspect of our life in turn. He loved a good story, and would spin yarns with my Dad and their other friends into the small hours of the morning. He was a constant, solid and reassuring presence through the proverbial good times and the bad, and we will all miss him a great deal.

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Seven generations of Tingulstad have lived on Tingulstad Gard, their farm. Four generations of them were around the table for dinner at one point, which was pretty awesome. They are a wonderful family; fully embracing us into their world and providing some fantastic opportunities for fun:

we dirtbiked around the farm (wow! terrifying with Johan driving)
feasted like Vikings of old (in all seriousness, Kirsti has represented Norway with her cooking and is an amazing chef… and I love Norwegian goat cheese)
ate elk steak and Norwegian salmon and had a massive fondue
had snowball fights and built snowmen
followed the tracks of beaver and elk around the farm
did some logging (trimming down the trees at the edge of the fields where they’d interfere with the farm equipment)
tasted Grandpa Tingulstad’s home made wine (Rosehip and Cherry used to make wine – very tasty!)
visited the summer cabin and waved at Denmark and the UK from the edge of ‘America’
chased after Homer and Katya (their lovable dogs)
sang on stage at the community centre, recently reacquired into the family
and played with Tinius Hagbart Tingulstad, the 16 month old 7th generation model, who loves tractors. A lot.

It was amazing. Photos of the whole lot available, as ever, on Flickr. I recommend Norway hugely: delicious food, amazingly varied landscape, wonderfully fresh air.

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So you know, I did not ski (owing to some carpel-tunnel badness), but the sun did shine, I did walk 15 miles in one day, consume Gluewein and be throwing of the snowballs. Much funness, schnitzel, dancing, and sawing of logs.

Millions of photos are over on Flickr, and have even set up a group so that everyone with digital cameras can pool their resources. That’s here.

Oh, and do you like the new skin? I might work up a new masthead once I decide on the necessary proportions.

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Chris is friend from University who worked on the student paper with us. He’s the man who got me into blogging – he blogs more seriously and more thoroughly than I do over on his own site, and talks about lots of issues I steer well clear of. That said, he has told me that he looks forward to blogging “Armand style” for a bit, so I’m vaguely worried about what that means. Chris is an Arsenal fan.

James was at college with me and has, over the years, introduced me to a disturbing number of genres of bizarre Japanese film. He’s a deeply funny man, but hasn’t blogged before so be especially nice. He’s a fellow Spurs fan, so I expect him to stand up to Chris if necessary.

All I’ve asked them to be wary of is language and NSFW content, as, amongst others, my parents occasionally visit here… so I think you’ll be in for an interesting week, and I look forward to catching up on my return.

Off to pack now… catch y’all soon!

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(1) My personal life has been busy, in a good way
(2) I lost the habit of blogging relatively during the 6 week internet drought imposed by my service provider over Christmas
(3) I installed Windows Vista (more to follow)
(4) Damo’s been living with me for the last 6 weeks, and I’ve therefore been disproportionately social

Damo’s now moved back into his flat, which is cool, but kind of sad. I like having friends living with me, and Damo’s one of the best. No doubt it also had an impact on how healthily I eat, too (Damo’s the kind of guy who goes out to buy a snack and comes back with Parma ham and Parmesan and other things beginning Parma).

Still; expect normal service to resume. I’ll try to alternate regular posts with the techie ones you all know and love.

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It was great to take a week off to completely disengage – no emails, voicemails, even text messages (whilst there are (state-run) mobile networks in Cuba I opted to stay properly incommunicado to help me relax). Drank a lot of mojitos y daiquiris, learnt a little Spanish thanks to Damo, who proved his usefulness time and again, and saw some interesting things. For the record, though, despite Damian’s assertions to the contrary, Cabaret was not invented in Cuba.

Although many people had told me that Cuba would be unlike anything I’d have ever seen, it had some similarities to bits of Malaysia I remember from my yoof: distinctly ex-colonial, poor, in need of development and investment. The neighbourhoods were very similar to ones I remember visiting when I was very young; large families, smallish houses, the heat… just felt very familiar. Unlike Malaysia, however, Cuba has rejected Capitalism and has a poor relationship with the US government; as such, its economy is in a bizarre state. For 30 years the Soviets subsidised the Cuban government and provided a guaranteed market for its single biggest export (sugar) — since the fall of the USSR, Cuba has clearly had to find new sources of income.

And find them it has — primarily through tourism, now Cuba’s number one earner. Through the introduction of a new currency back in 1995 (the CUC), tourists are essentially ‘taxed’ for visiting. US dollars are no longer accepted, and everyone has to convert into the local tourist money at a 10% loss (worse for the USD). The bizarre consequence of this tourist currency is that a middle class made up of service industry workers has been created — taxi drivers, hotel workers etc — who get their income in CUCs. The average salary in Cuba is 10 CUCs per month (about £6) so a tip of 1 CUC goes quite a long way — its worth 24 pesos in the local money, which can buy you quite a lot. The result of this is some of the highly educated Cubans — including some of their ludicrous number of doctors — will end up driving taxis. It’s all a little strange, and think they need something more sustainable in the long run.

Free enterprise in Havana was an interesting thing — its only permitted in two, localised forms — Casa Palladeros (B&Bs, basically) and Paradors (restaraunts based in people’s homes that are allowed to serve around 12 people max). We had great experiences of both and our most expensive meal in Havana was at a parador, which was interesting in itself…

Cuban culture
Cuban youth congregate along the sea wall by the Malecon (a coastal highway) in the evenings; often getting soaked by the large Caribbean waves crashing over them. Despite repeated soakings lovers, friends, groups of kids stay there for hours, chatting, singing, playing music and generally have a good time. I’ve never really believed the Bacardi advertising — but Latin culture really is very different to anything else… of course, in Cuba it’d be Havana Club advertising as Bacardi moved out after the revolution… and of course, there’s no advertising as its a Communist state, but even so. The only adverts we saw were for the CDR – the Committee for the Defence of the Revolution – and some very amusing Anti-Bush propoganda (one poster showed, pictorially, the equation Bush + Cheney (I think) = Hitler).

Music is everywhere; literally every café we went to had musicians playing, and although it was great (and got me to really enjoy the song ‘Hasta Siempre Commandante’, about Ché Guevarra), it did get slightly overbearing. The Cubans love it though; the Casa de La Musica, a large old theatre where live bands play to a dancefloor of energetic and coordinated Cubans was something to see. Of course, due to the low, low incomes, many of the women at the Casa de la Musica were pseudo-prostitutes. Whilst prostitution doesn’t officially exist in Cuba, a local explained to us (as did Damo, repeatedly) that many of the girls who will approach foreigners like moths to a flame at the Casa de la Musica are just looking for someone to fund their beers and a good time out. It was a little strange to deal with.

I was also struck by how much heroes figure in Cuban culture. José Marti, Ché, Fidel — heroes from their past and present are everywhere. The images and stories and songs of Ché in particular were very moving and am planning on learning more as a result. Have ordered the Motorcycle Diaries and have bought a version of ‘Hasta Siempre Comandante’ off iTunes. It’s a great song.

Food and drink
One thing that my friends didn’t overstate is how bad Cuban food is; although we found some exceptional places, it was often bland and occasionally undercooked — and undercooked pork and chicken, the two main meats on offer, are not good things. Matt and Ricky Bobby were both ill from something, though we didn’t manage to work out what. It is meat-tastic, however; the Pollo con Arroz Murro (fried chicken with rice cooked with black beans) was one tasty option, and we occasionally had good Pescado and Bisteck. However, we didn’t risk any street food (technically you need pesos to by this, which tourists shouldn’t have access to), and whenever we felt ill or anxious about the quality we headed to one of the increasing number of Italian restaraunts for Pizza as a safe option. The fried bananas and Churros con Chocolate in the Tryp Habana Libre (our first hotel) were awesome, though.

Worth noting that whilst Cubans hate the American government, they love Americana and American things. I (ineptly) strummed a few chords of Hotel California and they were loving it!

Drinks: the Mojitos were great; we always asked for them to be made with Havana Club (they occasionally use the disgusting Ron Moulata, which you would do well to steer clear of), occasionally having them made with ‘Tres Anejo’ – three year aged rum. They don’t quite taste like the mojitos you get over here – no crushed ice, and no mint – they use something called Herba Buena instead, which is not quite as Bueno but you get used to it. On the whole, they were things of awesome beauty and power (except for the ones at the Hotel Inglaterra which were made with Lime cordial for some reason). Also delicious were the daiquiries, and the very potent Hemingway Daiquiries. I’m sure the Cuba Librés were nice too, but I can’t drink coke so missed out on that one… Beerwise, Cristal was a good light beer and Buccanero was tasty too (es fuerte!). Matt tried the newly introduced Buccanero Max, which is Cuba’s answer to Special Brew and just as disgusting, although one musician we spoke to loved it. “Es fuerte,” he said, flexing his arms between sips of the double shot of Siete Anejo we bought him.

Varadero
We spent a night at an all-inclusive in Varadero, hoping to get some time with the Caribbean, which we did and which was fun. We played chicken with the waves. Damo, wearing his bright blue shower cap to protect a cut on his head from infection, had us pulled in by the lifeguard who pointed out that the hat was ‘por senoritas’. Very nice!

Everything else about Varadero was bad, though: no night life to speak of (it was off season, though we had been charged on-season rates), the drinks were dire, the food was the worst I’ve ever tasted in my life and the hotel was generally depressing. It wasn’t even the cheapest option on offer! But we managed to have fun nonetheless.

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In all, it was an awesome experience. I’d recommend Cuba to anyone who can (a) speak Spanish (b) likes meat, especially chicken, (c) doesn’t expect 5 star accomodation or service (d) likes rum or some combination of these factors. It would have been great to have a little more time to explore some of the other places in Cuba we’d heard were good, including Vinales and Trinidad, but I guess we have something to go back for! The fact that Malaysia has a ‘special’ relationship with Cuba and I don’t need a visa to go there might well prompt me to make a return visit at some stage, when I’ve learn some Espanol…

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