It is crowded and loud. La Froridita, a famous old bar in Havana Vieja (Old Havana), is packed to the roof. Patrons consist mostly of foreigners and some overseas Cubans. They are loud, trying to shout over the upbeat son music booming from an old stage where the confident lead singer of an all-girl-band is threatening her boyfriend or husband, by a stunning re-arrangement of the old bolero ‘Si Tu Te Vas’ (‘If you go away’).
It is all very cool. This is the exact bar where Hemingway used to have his countless daiquiris. Not those touristy and over-sugary ones that one can get anywhere in the world nowadays (even here, at La Floridita), but those very ‘masculine’ daiquiris, bitter and unsweetened, made only from rum, squeezed grapefruits and crushed ice.