A jiffy later, the ferry took us immediately towards that riot of colour and the personal island where our non-public cottage with full kitchen and wraparound terrace was positioned. The cottage was called Paradise and—looking out through the floor-to-ceiling home windows on the seashore and the ocean past it—it felt lots prefer it. Especially after we took the offered Bluetooth speaker out onto the porch and danced to Buena Vista Social Club, moving into the rhythm of the place, simply 90 miles from Cuba.
