Cultural Cuba - Havana, 2020 Friday January 17
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Published: March 22nd 2021
Hemingway Memorial
A mark of respect from Cuban fishermenFrom Santa Clara to Havana was our longest road day, 293 km. We were on the main highway, and the land was flat, with bushes and scattered trees. Daniel generously endured my many questions; I had been sitting across the aisle from him for the whole trip. This time I learned that the mimosa bushes are invasive, but not the mimosa trees. Thus, the bushes are burnt at the roadside to kill them, and the trees are planted for shade, for example, in coffee plantations.
I tried to make a list of all the different models of cars, prompted by the sight of a good-looking modern Lada, a make that used to be (maybe still is) the butt of many Russian jokes. What I learned is that many cars don’t have any indication of make or model, particularly the classic cars. Of those that had symbols, I failed to recognize any but the most obvious, such as Plymouth and Hyundai.
">(Watch my video taken during our bus journeys.)
Ernest Hemingway was our theme today. We detoured to see
Cojímar , where he first lived in Cuba and where he kept his fishing boat. Cubans are proud that Hemingway actually lived in the country, both before and after
the revolution, rather than only visiting as did many actors, writers and celebrities. His fishing experiences inspired the poetic
The Old Man and the Sea , the only Hemingway novel I have enjoyed. Usually, our tour would schedule lunch at his favourite
restaurant , where a table is still kept for him, but it was under renovation so we just peered through the scaffolding and drove past. We did park and walk for a short while in the gusty sunshine to see a seventeenth century Spanish
fortress . Across the road was a pillared monument protecting a bust of Hemingway, commissioned by fishermen, and made from the metal of old boat propellers.
Lunch was at
Hotel Ambos Mundos , the hotel where Hemingway stayed when in Havana. We had walked through the art deco lobby at the beginning of our tour. This time we took the old (but now automated) cage elevator to the roof top, where the wind blew at a seeming gale force. We could see from the roof-tops of old Havana across to the two forts. Fortunately, for lunch we were inside a room, surrounded on three sides by louvered doors. A German tour group shared this room. We all had the same
lunch – salad, tender fish, rice and something like canned vegetables. Not the best but plenty for lunch.
Then, Daniel revealed a birthday cake in my honour! It was gorgeously covered with dark chocolate roses, and inside was moist cake with ganache filling. Delicious! Since René and his family lived in Havana, he got the un-eaten half of the cake.
We drove back towards Cojímar to visit Hemingway’s home at
Finca Vigía . He and his wife Mary had left the house as if going on a vacation, but he was away for about a year battling depression. Papers were left strewn about, and no preparations for such a long departure were obvious. The house and its contents are considered historical artifacts. Our expert local guide, Mariloli, is one of the principal archivists of Hemingway’s history in Cuba. The artifacts have been conserved and are displayed in their original placements, while precautions have been taken regarding sun and weather. For these reasons, tourists are not allowed inside the house. We looked through the open windows, seeing clearly the comfortable sitting room, the dining room with a relatively small table, the library, and the guest room. On the walls were
the heads of many animals hunted by Hemingway. In the dining room was a large plate by
Picasso , Hemingway’s friend, and a reproduction of an early
Joan Miró painting. The original painting was donated to a museum in Washington after the revolution, although the exact process seems hazy.
Hemingway wrote in a special study to one side of the house, where he would insist on total privacy and silence from all members of the household, to achieve total concentration. He wrote standing at a typewriter, facing a blank wall. After his writing was over for the day, he would become sociable, perhaps having a drink at the top of a small tower in the garden or going for a swim in his pool. Although originally the house was his home with Martha Gellhorn, he lived there the longest with his fourth wife, Mary.
Apparently, Hemingway’s ability to write was destroyed by two plane crashes on consecutive days while hunting in Uganda. This traumatic bad luck triggered depression; he shot himself at his vacation home in Idaho in 1961. People in Cuba still revere him for the respect he paid to their country by being part of it, neither
Finca Vigía
Home of Ernest and Mary Hemingway an exploiter, nor a partying celebrity during the Batista years.
We returned to the Hotel Nacional and turned our attention to partying. We put on our best clothes – well, we didn’t really have any fancy clothes – to be chauffeured through the streets of inner Havana after dark.
Classic cars from the pre-Revolution days are a hallmark of Cuba, especially Havana. People have found ways of maintaining the inner workings and decorating the exteriors with outrageous flair. Riding in them is a vibrant tourist experience. Our cars were all convertibles – soaring fins in the back and endlessly long hoods in the front. Two of us stretched out in the enormous back seat of each car – ludicrously different from the knees-bent style of modern vehicles. Moving at a sedate but exhilarating pace, warm breezes ruffled our hair as we oohed and aahed at the decoratively lit buildings. Halfway through, we switched cars. I had a laugh leaving a bright lipstick red car for an unbelievably screaming pink one.
Our transfer to the bus was not a let-down, because we were about to attend the famous
Tropicana cabaret show. We began with dinner in their elegant
dining room. We started with salad as usual, and I had tender roast lamb in a thick, dark sauce, with red wine to drink. From there, Daniel came to lead us across the forecourt to the show room.
A great fan of tables radiated from the large stage and several elevated performance areas. In a sort of grotto, a large orchestra played non-stop. (I noticed that without fanfare they changed conductors half way through.) Our assigned table was a reasonable distance behind four cigar-smoking men, who had already arrived and seemed to have a more expensive package than we did (never did find out). Our package entitled us to a bottle of Havana Club 7-year rum for every four people, giving us a whole bottle and a 500 ml bottle. None of us could drink in this style, although Gary and Steve tried quite hard. Each person received one can of local Tu-cola for making our own Cuba Libre. The table had a bucket of ice, and eventually little dishes of peanuts and raisins were set out. I drank my rum on the rocks, to savour the flavour.
They announced this as the 81st year of performances. Dressed
Dining room
Replica painting by Joan Miró in astounding costumes of every colour were female and male dancers in overwhelming numbers. More performers sang constantly. I most enjoyed a mature woman who in a deep alto voice evoked the best of jazz singers. One set-piece was a tribute to the
Aboriginals of Cuba and their efforts to thwart colonizers; in the joyous show, they over came their oppressors, although in real life virtually all of them died from violence and disease. Shaking off that sad note, the costumes became more and more elaborate, cumulating in large chandelier-style headdresses that must once have been lit by candles, but now by LEDs. For all the glitz, my taste was for the music rather than for the style of the show. Still, we all left happily marvelling at the spectacle.
View map of trip.
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Isabel Gibson
non-member comment
Fun video
What a great idea to make your through-the-moving-window photos into a video to be viewed with some imagination. As for Hemingway, I never knew that he was such a touchy writer. Altogether not the happiest of mortals, but his time in Cuba seemed to suit him and his hosts. And "gusty sunshine" - love it.