Some people may be one people asked whether he still appear at some point, the third part of Cuba's trilogy. Or whether there had Fraunoelle thought only a promotional joke when they were taken on is always something of an ominous backpack Cuba in their narratives, they never thought to tell really. But no, dear audience: Here it is, the story of the missing bag and the nonexistent brains of the police in Cuba. Sí Comandante, if you read this, I would like to hereby fully stand by that my thoughts: Your police are 95% complete gripslos. And your island is not qualified German readers was now told how I came to this consideration.
It was probably because my charming companion and I were just down Almut too many miles at tropical temperatures, too little sleep and had put too many miles behind us had. It was the last vacation day, Havana would be achieved to be the next day to leave all of us. At a seedy rest stop, 172 km from Havana were, we, our bladders to empty and fill them from the top again. And somehow he stood there, Almut small backpack, her hand luggage, under the table. None of us thought at that moment to him, we got into the car, Almut went right and we both woke up again only really know when our rear tire blew out, right in the city traffic has reached the capital, in the last evening heat. And when we finally wanted to wash off all the sweat of the tire change and the journey and the dust of the road, we noticed its absence, that of the backpack. And now comes the crucial Set that you need to remember: The passport had not been inside the backpack. But other nice things, such as addresses, music, telephone and so on, and above all, the contract for our rental car at the loss we would have to pay 100 Euro.
And we both knew suddenly, where he remained, namely, the resting place under the table, and we probably knew both that he was already no longer there, but grateful to a Cuban household, or black market branch would be transferred. Nevertheless, said Almut, and I agreed with her immediately. "I must return there"
And so we went for, dirty, hungry, exhausted, worried, in the twilight in, 172 km Autopista Nacional on a poor back. Nice way for us was Vladimir, our innkeeper from Havana. Of course, the backpack was gone, and we found him, not even with extensive search in the dark in dark corners, rubbish bins and toilet bowls. But a kind security guard told us to bring in the nearby police station for the theft against unknown, so we also would get a certificate and not pay the penalty for the loss of the car rental agreement would have. Nice advice that we followed at once. But no, once , so alike was not at all. The observance of that nice meant Council took two and a half hours. And back in Havana, we were then in the morning by two clock. This was our last evening, without food.
When we had after a few questions at last found the police station in the desolate night Provinzkaff that the rest stop was at the next gathering, after initially appeared to be no one at there, once the entire team for us to gape at about three minutes long . My immediately, attempts to describe the sergeant has been our problem, ignored by his side completely. He looked at me though while I spoke, but then turned to the accompanying us, and asked what had happened. Vladímir kindly replied that everything was the way I would have just said, and that therefore we are here in order to report a complaint against unknown, but even more that it was a random companion and do with the story actually had nothing. And actually, we need only the form on the display for presentation to the car rental company.
The members of the police station assignment, still presence of the complete substitute, then telling glances and meaningless words meant to us to be seated, left the room and let us first wait about 20 minutes. Finally we were allowed to go in succession for questioning in a shabby room with a policeman in a vest and a rusty typewriter: I, who was not robbed, Almut, for which I interpreted for all the questions again, and Vladimir, who had to do with the affair, nothing had come along but only kindness. And the police officer in a vest with the rusty typewriter each of us put the exact same questions in exactly the same tone, and he always got the exact same answers. Among his questions: "So you put the backpack under the table?", "What was in the backpack?" and "in the backpack Was your passport?" The latter denies the way I had ever been before the official survey, I repeat for the reader interested in our fate like again, it was not no fun in that backpack. In between had The survey will be interrupted and all had to wait outside until the key was found the only room with air conditioning. No later than the third question as I translated for Almut, noting that up to this point, the survey was identical to mine, I thought the whole thing a kind comedy. The shirt loosely with every police officer was also repeated question in exactly the same facial expressions, perhaps he had no other. But it should not be funny, and the smell of sweat under my armpits and the hole in my stomach were not even slow funny.
After the survey, we had to again wait for about 30 minutes until we finally rusty on the typewriter with a lot of typos authored testimony to our efforts in their hands. After all: it should spare us the next day actually 100 €. Vladimir's mother, who brought with him the board in Havana, had been about six times called concerned (maybe they feared a little, we would have kidnapped her son forever, would it now be misused as tropical delight boys) and was now probably fallen asleep watching television. For general frustration compensation we bought a few Wegbier, and that, I whispered to me then, for the first time in my driver's career two behind the wheel, and when we drove past the checkpoint, I stuck the beer can easily switch between the knee was always dark. And see I could not be much, much too long worn my contact lenses had begun to suck the juice out of my eyes, God - what did it. We filled the love Vladímir off carefully with beer, raped him not, but gave him safely back to his slumbering worried mother and were just very glad that after all the holiday snack and whistling without a sport so many calories burned and also some of the ballast material, which the Western tourists abound carry around with them, and were gotten rid of forever. But the pass was not in it in a backpack, so we were both also on the following day fly back home, where I am now well again for some time. As long as it can take sometimes are told to certain stories. Now we can finally give the local.
