It just so
happens that the start of my second week in Cuba corresponds with the worst
night sleep for the entire trip so far. Yeah, self-inflicted no sympathy you
may say, but if you ever taken a good look at me, you know I need all the
beauty sleep I can get.
In a first
for me, my bed sheets were too narrow for the bed, so when you rolled over,
you’d scrunch the sheets up and lie directly on the thick plastic mattress
cover and then start sweating your box off. You wake up, fight the sheets back
into some kind of coverage and try and nod off again.
With the rest of the group setting off on the 4 hour round trip hike to Castro’s Sierra Maestra mountains HQ and with no water available to shower with, I wandered around the local village near Villa Islazul Santo Domingo with camera in hand. I also to the time to watch 368 Ways To Kill Castro, which reportedly was the amount of known attempts on his life.
The crew got
back around 12:45, grabbed a ham & cheese roll and then lined up to be
ferried back to our bus waiting about 20 minutes away.
From there it was a 4-hour bus ride into Camagüe and the Melia Hotel Colon, our accommodations for the night. Dinner was held in a local square at the Restaurante 1800 which is known for it buffet selection.
An early morning
rain shower greeted the new day and I ‘d have to say the smell just after rain,
is one of the best you can experience. It has a freshness all off its own.
The morning
was spent at the Museo
26 de Julio – Moncada Barracks where Fidel Castro first launched his
revolution in 1953 – an unmitigated failure in which he barely escaped with his
life. Next stop was the Cementerio Santa
Ifigenia (Santa Ifigenia Cemetery)
which holds the remains of most of Cuba’s founding fiqures and significant
people in its history – José Martí , María Magdalena
Cabrales Fernández the mother of the nation and just recently Fidel
himself.
After a late
lunch at the only empanada
place in the county – The
Melia Hotel, we hit the road for a 3-hour bus ride to our drop off point,
where we would take smaller vehicles into our mountain accommodations at Villa
Islazul Santo Domingo for the night. The premise being to take a 4-hour
roundtrip hike in the morning to Fidel
Castro’s mountain Headquarters.
Dinner was a
very local affair at a farmers’ place where we were treated to whole roasted
pig with rice and vegetables.
With no water at all in our room and an air conditioner that had no controls, other than tripping the main circuit breaker, killing the room lights as well. As the AC was running flat chat in Arctic windstorm mode and as it was colder than a mother in-laws kiss – we turned it off, opened the windows and doors to allow some natural airflow in and to signal the start of the all night mozzie buffet.
To say I was
a bit dusty this morning would be one hell of an understatement. I climbed on
the bus feeling a bit green around the gills and six different shades of shit
for the 6½ hour bus ride into Cuba’s second largest city and former capital Santiago de Cuba.
We all met up
around 8:30PM to go visit the city’s only 4 Star hotel – the Iberostar Casa Granda Hotel,
to take in the evening skyline and have some dinner.
Imagine my disappointment to wait just over an hour for a cold ½ roast chook, that obviously died of dehydration as it as dry as a bastard calf. The “meal” was accompanied with tinned beans and peas as more of a an after-thought plate filler.
Most of the others decided to continue on to the Casa de La Trova to test out their Salsa steps with the locals, but being close to midnight, I decided to pull up stumps and hit the fart sack.
I done
alright getting into bed by 11PM, but was awoken by my roommate coming home at
2AM – joys of adulating and having on one room key I suppose.
As mentioned
earlier, our Casa La Cueva is directly across the street and while there is
some benefit to that in regards to response time if we need them, but not so
much when an electrical fault saw a government building catch fire two blocks
from our Casa.
I was awoken
to a whole lot of banging, crashing, shouting & hollering, so I open the
front door the see 4 firies (firemen)
push starting one of the two fire trucks and then head off round the corner and
then the siren stops. With curiosity getting the better of me, I followed the
sound of the noise to see the building ablaze.
I head back
to the Casa after bit more of a wander around and sit down to breakfast to hear
from our hosts that the water would be off for three hours as the towns water
main water tank had to be refilled.
Today
activities were split into two groups – one would undertake a 4-hour hike through
the scrub to a waterfall and one that would visit some subsistence farmers to
deliver essentials like detergents, toothpaste, toilet paper, colouring in
pencils etc that we all chipped in for to purchase. I chose the latter and had “pleasure
of experiencing one of those “life moments”.
While
standing in the middle of a coconut plantation, the farmer – Raphael, who was
showing us around, had a neck brace on, came up to me while his worker was
demonstrating how to climb a palm tree. Raphael reaches out with is finger and
traces the scar on my neck and then points to similar scar on his own neck.
With our guide Victor translating we go over our injuries, treatments, high
& low’s and both coming away feeling a whole lot better for sharing our
experiences. For me it felt like a kindred spirit whose gone through the same
shit and just trying to leave each days as it comes.
From there it was on to the Toa river for a paddle around in a leaky wooden boat and lunch on the banks of the river. Most of the afternoon was spent at Moa, one of the very few white sand beaches in Cuba. We got back into Baracoa around 5PM and decided to meet up with everyone at the main Casa around 7:30 with a couple of bottles of Havana Club rum and a carton or two of the local Bucanero beers.
I think the last time I looked at my watch it was after two AM and my roommate and Victor were out on our front stoop polishing off some rum that mysteriously appeared.
I woke this
morning to a breakfast of fresh fruit, cheese omelette and home roasted fresh
coffee and thought to myself that I’m lovin’ the whole Casa Stay program.
I met up with
the rest of the group at 9 o’clock to find out the program for the day involved
visiting a coffee & cacao plantation, then sitting on a beach for the rest
of the day. To me this was as appealing as participating in Olympic javelin
catching, so I decided to stay in town and catch up with my blog and to go for
a wander around.
I spent about an hour on the Blog at mi casa and then had to leave due to their mosquito abatement program having to spray all the houses in the street. I simply set up shop on the front porch of a local hotel, on the the main strip and finished the updates.
As it was
about lunchtime and feeling a bit peckish, I decided to have a crack at one of
the local street vendors queso (cheese)
pizzas for lunch. Picture it if you will, a 7-inch disc of corrugated
cardboard, coated with a yellowish mucus and then run over by the Exxon Valdez.
I could have met a small towns power generation needs with the amount of crude
oil that came off the alleged food item.
The afternoon
was filled with laundry chores and chilling out with Anthony Bourdain’s take on
Cuba and Jimmy Barnes’ autobiographical movie – Working Class Boy.
I met up with
the rest of the group later in the evening to go dine at Al’s La Colina
Restaurant & Grill just north of the main street. Their Mojito’s rated an 8
on out Cuban World Mojito Taste Test, but their ribs were pretty ordinary.
I ended up leaving the restaurant early as group of German’s decided to fire up their Cuban stogie’s while I was trying to finish my main course which dead set gave me the irits. Not that it was a negative, I had a couple of beers and a great ol’ chinwag with the local barber.
9 o’clock was
the official starting time for our hour long horse & buggy ride through the
streets of Bayamo, who’s major claim to fame aside from being the birthplace of
the national flag and anthem, was that its produced two national Presidents,
who actually lived across the street from each other.
Whilst I’m
not a huge fan of touristy horse carriage rides, due to the fact that the
animals always look in poor condition and/or are mistreated. Truth be told, I
think this may have been the second or third one in all my travels.
On closer
inspection these animals looked in great shape, the equipment was obviously
serviced and maintained well. There were no rub marks or open wounds on the
horses and their hooves and shoes looked were on excellent shape. I come to
find out that the government vet inspects the animals every day and pulls the
operator’s license for any issues found during the inspection.
Our next stop
for the day was the infamous – in recent times, 120 square kilometre U.S. naval
base Guantánamo Bay or Gitmo as the locals call it. As attractions go, you’ll
be sorely disappointed as you’re over 20 miles away, perched on a hill
overlooking an inlet that protects most of the site. Even when paying the $1
USD fee to climb the tower and use their Spanish-American war era looking
glasses (i.e. busted arse binoculars)
you are afforded no better views.
We ended the
day with a two-hour drive into Baracoa in which I’m staying with a local family
at their casa by the Atlantic Ocean, which makes a change from the hotels I’ve
had so far on this trip. Casa Stays have sprung up everywhere in Cuba since the
government allowed such capitalist ventures nearly a decade ago. You as a
traveller are essentially a guest in a local’s house which allows them to
supplement their income with hard currency and you get to experience the
hospitality of a local stay.
Dinner was an
off the beaten path restaurant affair at Terazza La Roca Grill which was a
family style buffet of local dishes including pork, lobster, prawns, bean soup,
rice, plantain chips, salad, custard pudding and coffees for $15 USD.
A few of us headed back to the towns square for a couple of night caps where another of the group, repeated my efforts of buying the bottle of rum, thus allowing us to sit on the porch, sipping “Vitamin R” while listening to Bob Marley and people watching until midnight.
As much of a
pain in the arse spending 9½ hours on the road is, it is apparently a far
better option that trying to catch any of the domestic air services. The trip
was broken up with a pretty decent lunch at Le Compana de Toleda in the town of
Camaguey.
While in Camaguey
I had to use an ATM which cost me $9 USD for the privilege, fuck you very much!
I did however fare much better than those who used the banks teller services to
change Euro’s to Cuban Pesos. They paid only $5 USD for the transaction and got
a pretty rubbish rate i.e. a third of the Euro’s current trading value AND had
to spend an hour waiting for one of the two tellers to service the three
customer before them.
We got in to our
accommodations at the Hotel Royalton where after getting squared away, we dined
in their restaurant and then headed out to the local square, where there was a
street concert taking place.
Here we are
standing in the street, sipping on $1.25 USD Crystal creveza’s when it was my
round in the shout. I grab a ½ dozen beers and ask about the cost of a Cuba
Libre (rum & coke) for one of the
group and was informed that it was $3 USD. Being the ½ smartarse that I am, I
asked as to the cost of the entire bottle – $5 USD was the barmen’s response. I
grabbed a full bottle and a can of Cuban Coke for an extra 50 cents and
wandered back out to the town square – job sorted.
In the interests’ full disclosure and impartial testing, I felt a shot or three of the Cuban “Vitamin R” was in order and found it to be a rather smooth tipple, that you could get to know on an immediate & intimate level quite easily. It’s a whole lot better than that Queensland cane cutters cordial – Bundaberg Rum.
Today was a 7-hour bus trip to the regional town of Sancti Spiritus located 380 kilometres ((240 miles) from Havana. Thankfully it was on one of the air-conditioned Transtur tourist coaches and not the local service, busted arse Toyota coaster or mini-van.
The trip was
broken up with regular breaks along the way including lunch at Pia Cua where
they are apparently known for their Cubano sandwiches. For $5 USD you got two
pieces of grilled bread, a piece of dry cold roast pork, a slice of lettuce,
tomato and cheese with a choice of ketchup, mustard, HP or Worcestershire
sauces. The sandwich was nothing like the Cubano sandwiches I came to love and
enjoy in Little Havana in Miami.
From there it
was about an hour’s drive to the mausoleum of Ernesto “Che” Guevara, just
outside the town of Villa Clara. Che was the Argentine born doctor who became one
of the heroes of the Cuban revolution and right hand man to Fidel Castro. Of
interest was how passionate our guide was in telling the story of Che, in which
he was literally brought to tears.
We managed to
walk the oldest bridge in Cuba, that crosses the Rio Yayabo and continued on
foot to our stop for the night – Sancti Spriritus.
We had an unscheduled last minute change in hotels, due to the original not having any water. This saw us freshen up at our new digs at the Hotel Plaza before heading for a meal at Meson de la Plaza. A little further research in my Best Cuban Mojito endeavours back at the hotel rounded off a great day. Whilst there, I noticed the bar doing a roaring trade in selling Havana Club rum by the litre bottle for $3 USD to passing traffic. The doorman was even in on the action as he was ferrying rum to cars or motorbike parked at the footpath.
I got up around 5AM and headed off to the ensuite shower, which in all honesty was so small that you couldn’t change your mind, let alone clothing. On the way into the shower, I brushed up against the hand basin in getting around the toilet and managed to knock it off the wall, smashing it. Now that’s a different start to the day I reckon.
After sorting
out the hand basin situation with the hosts, I sat down to breakfast with
Gretta, who hails from Mildura (Victoria,
Australia) but is currently based in Vancouver (British Colombia, Canada). We got to chatting, as you do when
travelling alone in foreign countries, and decided to combine our talents and take
a wander around Havana together for the day.
From our
Casa, we headed out up to one of the local squares, which is also the
neighbourhood Wi-Fi hotspot. Just so you’re in the know – aside from brand name
Cuban Hotels, the internet is strictly controlled by the government and as such
you have to purchase one hour blocks for $1 USD directly from ETECSA and then
got to the dedicated Wi-Fi spots to access the service. Theses area are usually
the local square in every town or large neighbourhood.
As we hadn’t
purchased a Wi-Fi access card, we continued down to the waterfront and along
the foreshore to the opening of Havana Harbour. From there we cut through the cobblestone
streets of Old Havana, behind the Capitola building and popped up on the wharves
at the Artists’ Market that is housed in one of the huge old Bonded Goods storage
facilities i.e. a whooping great big shed.
On a whim,
and the fact bus was sitting right outside the market, we made use of the $10
USD all day hop on/hop off tourist bus just to get a feel of the size and scope
of Havana. It’s easy to see the change in capitalism in Havana with several
multi-acre waterfront sites have large hotel construction projects in progress.
One lap of
the city takes about 3 hours, but as it was just after 1:30 PM and in need of a
feed & watering, we legged it off the bus at the Capitola and headed to El
Chanchullero to get that sorted real quick.
Dinner tonight was $15 USD set menu affair at the Espacio Old Fashion which included a welcoming Mojito, a main course and either coffee or papaya with cheese as a desert. It was pretty ordinary if the truth be told. I arrived back at the hotel room to find a new hand basin installed and a bill for $50 USD in replacing the unit. I figured it was a fair amount, even though most would dispute the charge as the old unit was obviously not installed correctly, but when you know that these folks live on less than $100 USD a month, then what is $50 USD to me as compared to ½ their earnings for the month?
At 50 minutes,
my flight took less time than it did for me to collect my luggage, as it seemed
that the baggage handlers have thoroughly embraced the who communism concept by
releasing one bag every couple of minutes.
I have to say
that clearing Customs & Immigration at the Havana airport was one of the
easiest and quickest clearances I’ve been even been involved with. They did pay
special attention to my camera gear and USB hard drives by asking me to show
the camera body working with each lens and how the USB and SSD drives worked
and what they were for.
I was met by
a transfer driver who was spitting chips that I was an hour and twenty minutes late
in getting to the Transfer Collection area, but as it was out of my control –
care factor zero.
My second
“What Tha” moment came when changing US dollars to Cuban pesos or “CUC” as it’s
better known by. For the record, the first “What Tha” moment was the length (or
lack thereof) of the female Immigration officer’s skirts. Fair Dinkum they were
“Greyhound Skirts” as in chasing the hair!
I digress,
back to the money changing. In retaliation to the US Embargo’s, the Cuban
government had slapped a 10% tax on all US currency and have set the CUC rate
to mirror the US dollar. Yeah … that’ll show Uncle Sam not to mess with you
Cuba.
I got to my accommodations at Casa Reyna around 5:00 PM and was met by my hosts Marilyn and Ismael. With my lodgings, since approximately 2008, the Cuban government relaxed their stranglehold on the economy and allow private enterprise to service to burgeoning tourist trade, which is now the country’s largest hard currency revenue generator. With the relaxing of the laws, many of the locals have converted their homes to supply temporary accommodations as their major income source, thus relieving the burden on social welfare and earning themselves as decent wage, when the minimum wage is around $12 USD a week. As I was fanging for a feed, I headed over to one of the local squares and found the El Chanchullero Restaurant and managed to settle in for $2.50 USD Mojito’s and a really good feed of prawns for $7.00 USD.
