Cherries in rum

Holidays with a choleric grandfather (! ) a communist (! ) in Cuba (! ). Are your relatives bothering you at Sunday lunch? Can't you understand who they voted for again, why they are forwarding conspiratorial emails to each other, cursing journalists and complaining that things were better in their youth? Exhale and count to ten. Digging ditches between generations is not always the best idea.

Thirty-year-old Michaela, a public television editor by profession, therefore suppressed her instinct for self-preservation and decided to travel with her (four decades older) grandfather in Cuba for nearly a month. When she packed both their suitcases, she hadn't realized that in a few days: spends an evening in a police station on the outskirts of Havana, then Grandpa gets lost in the rainforest, rum is the official breakfast of champions and patera shorts are fine for a month.

What you have before you are quirky travelogues, which in the end are not a travelogue, but rather a diary of bizarre situations in Cuban scenery. If readers have ever wondered what happens when you take the red cherries off the Communist Party of Czechoslovakia's logo and put them in a shot of Cuban rum, they will find the answer in this book.