This resort if on the same side of the island as the Bay of Pigs. That should be the first clue that this is not a premier resort.Upon arrival myself and traveling companions were told to remember Cuba is a third world country. That was clue number two.

The week prior to my trip my travel agent called and advised me that the swim up bar would be closed at this resort for the week for maintenance. I really did not think that would be a problem as the hotel is situated on a picturesque beach. Unfortunately the first thing I noticed when I arrived was that this pool had been unused for an eternity as there were cracks in it. Throughout the week there was no maintenance done to it and no water filled it.

Following a quick check in and dropping our bags in our room we proceeded to the bar where I ordered the requisite pina colada . I was told the bar only has rum. So I reordered but a rum and coke this time. I was again told there was only rum. So there you have no choice rum and rum or rum and nothing. I took rum and rum.

While seated in my room the first night I looked at the floor and began to feel dizzy .The floor seemed to be swirling around me. I was relieved and disgusted to find it was about one trillion ants milling about that made the floor appear to be moving. Of course the hotel was sold out and we could not change rooms. 

The same food was served for all three meals for 7 days. This is great of you are trying to lose weight because your appetite wains after a couple days of pork, green beans, and white rice. No so good if you thought that you make get to try some semi authentic Cuban food. 

The electricity went off pretty much every night.  There was a hurricane swirling about us. I went out into the open air hallway to photo the anarchy that ensued. I was blown down the hallway and hung onto a pillar for dear life with my Pentax camera beating me about the face.

We took a tour to where they make hand rolled Cuban cigars. Yuck I say. Seeing toothless old men licking the sides of the cigars made me sick. I suppose the menthol flavor ones come from the old guy having a candy in his mouth when he licks your cigar shut. 

Walking down an unkempt pathway my foot was pierced by a chard of terra cotta tile. I debated whether or not to see the hotel nurse but judging by the rest of the place I declined and went about my business drinking a bottle of rum and doing some self foot surgery with my swiss army knife (which you were allowed to bring on the plane pre-9/11).

The thing that struck me the most about this resort was the wonderful staff who managed to remain upbeat and helpful although guests complained constantly about the resort's short comings. Imagine what they could do if they had something to work with.