Frank had decided to try and give up smoking cigarettes for the fiftieth (not a real figure, just used to help illustrate how hard it is for some people to kick the habit) time in his life. He was absolutely gagging for a cigarette, Cuba is a bad place to try and give up, smoke is in the air and smoking is all around, pretty much still allowed indoors everywhere, like it used to be in England until the smoking ban came in. He was wearing nicotine patches and tablets to try and stop the craving, it never works though, nicotine is just too addictive, I know some people have a much easier time of giving up but some can never really stop craving. Another way to try and stop, he decided to smoke some cigars. In theory cigars are good as they don't contain all the nasty chemicals in cigarettes and you don't take draw the smoke into your lungs so in that sense they are mush better. Just trying to find some good cheap cigars was now the problem, we had no idea what ones to get or where to get them. We went into a few shops near our hotel but had no luck, in a last ditch attempt Frank went into a restaurant just to ask, the man behind the counter said he could get some and to hold on a sec. In the mean time I waited outside and some little old man who spoke very good English came up to me and started chatting. He began telling me about all the hardships in Cuba, some good things but mainly bad. He was saying that the tourists never get to see the real Cuba or hear what it is really like. All the tour companies show all the good things, the hotels are all fixed up and look very civilised when on the streets there is poverty everywhere, most of the city and the rest of the country is run down and nobody has any money. The locals and tourists have separate bars, shops and even a different currency. He seemed genuine like he wasn't trying to rip me off or get any money out of me in any way, it was cool speaking to him however brief it was. I went in to check on Frank, he was just being given the cigar. The man had got them from God knows where and had two, Frank only asked for one and wanted one and I got a drink and he bought the lot for about $8 CUC the tourist currency, Convertible Pesos. To be honest I don't really remember much about the rest of the evening, only that we had dinner in Bar Monserrate then went back to the hostel at some point, Frank passed out and I watched a couple of films on the TV in Spanish then I fell asleep.