Behind me was the main swimming pool beside which I had come to spend my last day in Havana.

It was to be a period luxuriating in the ambience of a world-class establishment, lunch included, for a mere fifteen U.S. Dollars. The day passed quietly, the sun forever on the pool as I dipped in and out at leisure, refreshing myself in the water, which was icy at first touch.

This was a world away from the hustle (literally) and bustle of Central Havana. There was no escape from the heat and every few minutes a cigar tout would ask the inevitable question, which always included the words ‘Cohiba’ or ‘Montechristo’.

As I approached cab ranks the words ‘Taxi…Taxi…Taxi…Taxi…Taxi…Taxi…’ fluttered at me like tiny birds escaping from a cage.

This word had assumed the proportions of a congenital nervous reflex amongst members of the cab-drivers union.

Then there were the prostitutes… As I entered Havana Cathedral one hissed at me from behind a pillar. Initially it was to get my attention, but when I continued to ignore her it degenerated into derision.

My thoughts cleared and as I looked out through the wall I could see the Gulf of Mexico as it smashed its waves against the concrete defence known as The Malecon. It was built in 1901 and, at over twelve Kilometres, is one of the longest promenades in the world.

Swimming off there was a different matter altogether.

For a start there is an eight-foot drop to a lower, narrow ledge. The wall on the seaward side is difficult to negotiate because it is concave in structure. However, I placed my backside on the very edge, used my arms and hands for support as I sprayed my legs and feet below and under, trying to get as far down the concave surface before making a last small jump to land. It felt a bit scary at first because it could be so easy to sprain an ankle.

Getting back up was, perhaps, even more difficult. There is a series of drainage holes running the length of the wall about three feet up from the narrow ledge. They do make great footholds but once you get you’re arms and hands onto the surface at the top make sure you splay them before levering yourself up. There are no bars or railings to get a grip of and a fall back onto the concrete ledge is not recommended!

Swimming off The Malecon will remain one of the best memories of my stay in Havana.

Take only the essentials: trunks, towel, tee shirt and plastic jellybean sandals to be kept on whilst swimming; also for protection against the sharp coral and crustaceous growths which cover the lower ledge from which you go into the water.

Be prepared to be pestered by young people of whom there are a lot of groups on the Melcon. Some will be genuinely friendly, others will just want money and that’s is a good reason for not taking any with you when you go the swim. The most any opportunists will be able to take from you will be your towel and tee shirt.

The water is silky and warm. The current gentle. I am not a strong swimmer but I felt confidant hear. So confident that one evening a young man with a fishing line was having difficulty getting the hook to float out to sea, the current persistently nudging it back to shore. As I was the only person in the water he asked if I would swim out wit it. Taking the baited hook in hand I went right from the shore and well out of my depth. The hook stayed well out and I never enjoyer doing anything as much in my life before.

As I strolled back to Raul and Magaly's  apartment, the night quickly closing in, I felt that returning to Havana was a distinct possibility at some time in the future.