Kinda inspiring...

in the last couple of days I've met people who are shooting a very cool idea with an amazing Hollywood director, gotten together with a gender challenging extreme burlesque performer, arranged to go to diary readings by 4 sex workers, have sat at the table with a guy who worked with Tom Ford at Gucci and built a huge fragrance franchise post that, to Diddy's Ciroc people and a host of others who have made my jaw drop. I've also not slept. So cool and killer at the same time. Home tomorrow. Thank God.

Back in NYC

Back in NYC and already it's starting to feel like spring. It's 7c, sunny and there's a hint of flesh back on display as Gap scarves are banished to that 'where did we put them?' place until next year.

Decent trip in despite stupidly short notice, a flight that wasn't actually booked and a pilot who circled like a vulture over the soon to be corpse of a C list celebrity (their faves) Still the man at immigration was a big Smirnoff fan... which was weird and held up the line as we chatted about the various misconceptions about the brand.

But mainly it's been about meetings and calls and more meetings, then calls to arrange more meetings during which we'd discuss upcoming calls. Must find a shoot to help distract myself.

More and better tomorrow... when I'll bend over backward to accommodate you (matron! missus! sauce! etc)

So the heat didn't happen...

We knew that the weather was going to be bad when everyone we talked with mentioned the 'cold front' and pointed to the pile of sweaters that they had at the ready. The diagnosis was confirmed when the guy delivering breakfast greated me with a cheery

"Good morning; it is a terrible day"

And it really hit home when our Hyundai AtoZ (why do we always end up in Hyundai's redundant micro-car? could it be that we're cheap) was plowing through two foot floods in the backwaters en route to Santa Clara (home of bits of the remains of Che)

But ultimately it didn't matter. Booking an all-inclusive was a hideous and horrible mistake. It felt like a bizarre version of The Biggest Loser ranch; where each of the massive people struggled to gain as much weight as possible by piling on the buffet then laying stock still and slurping Pina Colada until it was time to eat again. Just horrible.

Still we got out and about. We climbed through bat and cockroach infested caves, bounced through mangrove swamps on a jet-ski, drove to strange and wonderful places, took recommendations on lunch, photographed people at home and marveled at how all life in Havana seems to take place on a balcony... at least until night falls.

So not the warmed bone marrow that we'd been promised; but not a disaster either. Now who's up for a swish villa in September?