The Gardener - Ep. 1 Havanna
Caretaker’s Creed: We do not end lives. We tend to the ones at the end. That everyone might have a friend.
[Entry 57] September 17th, 2017
The sun was setting on Havana’s Sofá.
The sounds of vendor carts and footsteps were being replaced with busking bands and dancing. Toward the edge of the promenade sat a lonely bar full of lonely people. They gathered there out of habit and for the friendly conversation of el PatrĂłn. There always seemed to be a fĂştbol game on the television, even when the season was over.
Barstools and billiard tables set the scene, and hanging pots with lazy ceiling fans decorated the space. The sweet scent of sea spray mixed with stale cigar smoke and fresh flowers.
There was a man half-lit by the sunset through wooden shutters and half in darkness.
A man by definition, sure, but the complete opposite of memorable.
Decked out in local fineries: neutral linens, shoes made by a third-generation cobbler, and the hat—the pièce de résistance—a handwoven, carefully trimmed Cuban fedora.
It helped him blend in with the locals while traveling, even down to the drink itself: a citrus-scented, nose-tickling mojito. The sprig of mint was wilting a bit.
-Please read the rest on my Substack, Link Below
Episode 1: Havana











