A Cuban Affair and Other Short Stories

By Ian L Prince

Starting with A Cuban Affair and Other Short Stories, the author skilfully relates his hilarious adventure on a 'R and R' location for Castro’s rebel forces.
The book's 23 stories are grouped in a way to keep the readers enthralled as they go on a journey of hilarious and bizarre experiences to exotic locations or share, under Viking Tales, the pioneering experiences of the UK and Norway rushing to develop North Sea oil.
But it doesn’t end there as the author unfolds further chaotic tales of woe happening on ‘his watch’.
These include;
A misidentification situation with security forces at a major airport
A key witness in a bank robbery
The first game of golf
Observations of a supermarket bag-packer
And many others.
Also included are two amusing letters written through the eyes of a young boy to Santa and the Prime Minister.
A word of warning to the reader. This book is best read on one’s own as outbursts of laughter might raise cause for concern from the casual onlooker.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Feb 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9781398440432

Ian L Prince

Ian L Prince was born in Oldham in 1946. At the age of seven, he moved to Portsmouth with his family where he stayed until his mid-20s. For most of his working life, he was employed in the oil and gas industry, which offered him the opportunity for extensive travel. After living in Norway for 13 years, he moved to his current home in Aberdeenshire. Ian is an ardent lover of ‘Keep Fit’ and regularly seen gyrating at the local Jazzercize venue. Now, in semi-retirement, Ian still travels extensively both for work and pleasure. He is the author of The Age of Chaos, a humorous and scathing commentary on the pitfalls of contemporary living. His second novel, The Siege of Pickeltillum, is the hilarious tale of intrigue and chaos in a rural Scottish village. Ian is also the author of Decommissioning Strategies for the 21st Century, a technical and less-disgruntled work.

Book preview

A Cuban Affair and

Other Short Stories

Ian L Prince

Austin Macauley Publishers

A Cuban Affair and Other Short Stories

About the Author

Dedication

Copyright Information ©

Acknowledgement

Traveller’s Tales

Cuban Affair

Breakfast at Toronto

Overkill

La Dolce Vita

A Fishy Tale

Topical Tales

Tales from a Supermarket Bag Packer

A Night at the Lost Hope Saloon

The Anniversary

It’s a Heartache

You Can Bank on It

A Hole in One!

Glossary of Golf Terms

Letters

Letter to Santa

Letter to the Prime Minister

Viking Tales

A Viking’s Tale

Let’s Wing It

An Early Vintage

Crew Change Day

Two Tin Cans and a Piece of String

In the Heat of the Moment

Richard’s Revenge

A Drop in the Ocean

A Dip in the Pool

A Time for Change

About the Author

Ian L Prince was born in Oldham in 1946. At the age of seven, he moved to Portsmouth with his family where he stayed until his mid-20s.

For most of his working life, he was employed in the oil and gas industry, which offered him the opportunity for extensive travel. After living in Norway for 13 years, he moved to his current home in Aberdeenshire.

Ian is an ardent lover of ‘Keep Fit’ and regularly seen gyrating at the local Jazzercize venue.

Now, in semi-retirement, Ian still travels extensively both for work and pleasure.

He is the author of The Age of Chaos, a humorous and scathing commentary on the pitfalls of contemporary living. His second novel, The Siege of Pickeltillum, is the hilarious tale of intrigue and chaos in a rural Scottish village.

Ian is also the author of Decommissioning Strategies for the 21st Century, a technical and less-disgruntled work.

Dedication

I have been very fortunate in my life to have met some very interesting people/characters who have shown me that humour is life’s best medicine. These stories are dedicated to them.

Copyright Information ©

Ian L Prince 2022

The right of Ian L Prince to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781398440425 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781398440432 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2022

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Acknowledgement

To the oil and gas industry for giving me the pioneering experience.

To Austin Macaulay Publishers for their support in making this book a reality, despite their better judgement.

To the patience of family and friends who thought for a while the author was in serious need of medical attention.

A heartfelt thank you to all those who bought a copy of the book and for those that didn’t, a double raspberry.

1

Traveller’s Tales

In this opening section of the book, I have resisted the temptation to make it yet another ‘Traveller’s Guide’ and instead included a number of short stories with an international flavour. They reflect a number of amusing and interesting incidents experienced during my travels.

A Cuban affair

Breakfast at Toronto

Overkill

La Dolce Vita

A Fishy Tale

Cuban Affair

Whether or not it was the vision of Cuban beauties ‘rolling cigars on their thighs’, Havana with its 1950s’ American cars, Hemmingway or Che Guevara; Cuba had always been high on my ‘bucket list’ of countries to visit. When I did eventually visit Cuba for a holiday, I certainly wasn’t disappointed, although it would have been nice to see the way Cuban women make cigars.

This particular holiday was part touring the sights of Cuba and part relaxing on a beach resort.

For the touring part, our group resided in small cottages on a nature reserve in central Cuba. If one believed the tour guide, the ‘cottages’ were used by Fidel Castro’s freedom fighters for rest and recuperation (R & R).

The cottages in effect were just accommodation blocks of four ‘units’ at the edge of a rain forest, rather than the thatched roof cottages pictured on Christmas cards. They were very basic and probably modelled on third world country penal colony prison cells. Inside was a small bathroom with a shower, WC, hand basin. A cracked mirror was strategically positioned such that one had to crouch down to see your face. The bedroom/lounge contained a well-used double bed, a small table and two mismatching chairs. There were only two windows to let in natural light, a small one in the bathroom and probably more for ventilation than light. The other window was in the lounge/bedroom facing the rain forest. This window couldn’t be opened and I noticed that on the outside was a steel grill. I could only assume this was used to prevent Castro’s Freedom Fighters from escaping and the resort owner had decided he would use the same principle for ‘managing’ tourists!

On one side of the bed, there was a bedside cabinet, minus drawers, with a reading lamp that didn’t work. On the table was a candle, a box of matches (Half of them used) and a small television. The television was operated manually by switching it on and giving the top a sharp knock. It only had one viewing channel which was in black and white and very grainy, no matter how much one moved the metal ‘coat hanger’ aerial or threatened the set with verbal abuse, the picture couldn’t be improved. For some mysterious reason, it only worked during late afternoon. Most of the daily programme was of Fidel Castro, dressed in his usual military uniform and ranting for several hours about his dissatisfaction with the World, especially the USA.

The resort amenities were very basic, with a central small building that housed a reception, a lounge and a restaurant. There was a notice in the reception and in the rooms pointing out that during storms there could be a loss of power and guests should use the candles provided. It went on to say that a number of torches were available but the guests would need to provide their own batteries.

There was also a swimming pool, which to the best of my knowledge was never used by any of the guests. I would say that was mainly because we were all busy, rather than a fear that we would contract some incurable illness from swimming in the water.

By far the most popular amenity for social gatherings was the bar, which opened when the guests were back from the day’s exploring trips.

Out of habit, before visiting foreign countries, I always make a point of checking if there is anything that eats tourists, be it wildlife, plant or aliens. I was pleased to know that while Cuba had an array of wildlife including over 30 different types of snakes, nothing was a threat to humans.

However, my first encounter with the ‘local residents’ was when my wife shouted, You have just been bitten by a snake.

At the time, we were out walking along paths in a nearby area of the rain forest, intent on finding wildlife species as yet undetected by man. I was wearing sandals at the time rather than the combat or jungle trekking boots shown in movies.

I stopped abruptly and turned to see a snake approximately two metres long escaping. My wife and I quickly looked at my ankle to see if there were signs of a snake bite, I was pleased to say that there were none. We took a joint decision to pursue the snake that was now starting to climb a nearby tree. Keeping a safe distance, I managed to take some very clear pictures of the snake. After this incident, the rest of our walk was an anti-climax as we were impatient to get back to the resort to tell our fellow tourists about my near-death experience.

I showed the resort manager a picture of the snake and he assured me that it was constrictor and harmless unless you were a rabbit or small rodent.

My second encounter with a ‘species’, which prompted me to question the tourist guide comment about harmless wildlife, was with a very large black spider!

It was late evening; we had all eaten and were now relaxing around the open-air bar enjoying exotic cocktails, listing to Latino music and sharing stories.

I felt a cold shiver run down my spine as, out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw something dark scampering across the floor. I focused my eyes but saw nothing, I stared for a while and then I saw it. I have never really been too bothered by insects but this beastie, without question had me on my feet and ready to run for cover. What I saw was the biggest and hairiest spider I have ever seen. It was easily the size of a large hand, not that anyone would want it on their palm. I shouted to my fellow tourists that a tarantula was on the loose. Instant panic resulted. Tables and chairs were knocked over drinks spilt. This disturbance had undoubtedly scared the tarantula away, as it had clearly disappeared into the surrounding darkness. What followed then was an outburst of derogatory remarks over my scaremongering and inability to ‘hold my drink’.

The evening never seemed to return back to its joviality and the guests gradually drifted back to their rooms. As I approached my room, I saw to my horror that the tarantula was back. It was about to climb through the bathroom window of the neighbouring room!

Faced with a decision of letting the tarantula continue its journey, which might have, at the best resulted in whoever was using the toilet having a heart attack or waking up my neighbours; I decided on the latter.

I banged on their door and shouted, Shut your bathroom window quickly before the tarantula gets in. The response, though not unexpected, was, Bugger off, we are trying to sleep.

I decided to warn them once more which resulted in my neighbour coming out in his dressing gown and by his facial expression, not intent to exchange pleasantries.

Fortunately, before he could release his anger on me, he saw the tarantula.

WTF! Mary shut the fucking bathroom window!

Our noise had roused some of the other tourists who came to view the tarantula, take pictures and again prompt discussions about tarantula facts and more near-death experiences. One was that its venom could supposedly kill an elephant, which I found hard to believe if it only killed for food. I found out later that there are more than 900 species of tarantula and if one didn’t die from shock, they were mostly harmless to humans.

My last encounter with the tarantula was one early morning when I was up and about taking pictures of birds. As I passed by the swimming pool, I noticed the tarantula was in the water and trying to get out; again, faced with a decision of letting the tarantula enjoy its morning swim or to perhaps reserve my place in heaven by saving its life.

I called over one of the resort’s staff and with a mixture of grunts and sign language explained that I wanted him to get the tarantula out of the water. With a smile and showing no fear, he scoped the tarantula out of the water and dropped it on the poolside. He looked at me, smiled again, said, Tarantula finito, and stood on it.

It was with the utmost self-restraint and the fact that the guy towered over me, that I resisted the sudden urge to throttle him and push him into the pool. Instead, I gave him a scowl as he walked away. I looked at what remained of the tarantula and thought, that despite my well-meaning efforts to protect the tarantula, it had met its end. Once again, I felt a cold shiver, knowing I had lost my place on the ‘short list’ to heaven and the ‘pearly gates’ had now been shut firmly in my face.

To bring this sad tale to an end, I showed the resort manager pictures I had taken of local wildlife and suggested that he have a collage of such pictures so that his guests could identify what they were seeing.

He looked at my pictures, and with a look of bewilderment, he sadly shook his head, saying in his Latino twang, Senor, the snake and the spider won’t cause you any harm my friend but these pictures will frighten the gringos and kill my business!

Breakfast at Toronto

It was close to 2 am as I sat in the passenger seat, of what I can only describe as a luxury vehicle of the future. While my bottom slowly warmed from a seeming automatic car seat heater, I was mesmerised by the multi-coloured digital displays of flashing icons and images along the dashboard which wouldn’t