Are your relatives driving you crazy at Sunday lunch? Can't understand who they voted for this time, why they send each other conspiracy emails, complain about journalists, and whine that things were better in their youth? Take a deep breath and count to ten. Digging trenches between generations is not always the best idea. Thirty-year-old Michaela, a public television editor, therefore suppressed her survival instinct and decided to travel around Cuba for a month with her grandfather, who is four decades older. When she was packing their bags, she had no idea that in a few days: she would spend an evening at a police station on the outskirts of Havana, that her grandfather would get lost fifteen times, that rum is the official breakfast of champions, and that three pairs of underwear are perfectly sufficient for a month. If you really want to laugh heartily and be entertained, then read the quirky travel notes, which ultimately are not a travelogue but rather a diary of bizarre situations in Cuban settings. And if any reader has ever wondered what happens when you take the red cherries off the logo of the Communist Party of Bohemia and Moravia and soak them in strong Cuban rum, this book has the answer.
