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Published: June 16th 2010
San Francisco and the onwards trail.. This afternoon I’m sitting staring at my diary, trying to decipher my furious daily scribblings from the last 2 and a half months - An attempt to remember everything; sights, sounds, smells. It’s not a long time really, but it’s enough to almost forget the feeling of travel sickness on a packed Mexican bus winding the rolling mountains of the Sierra Madre de Oaxaca, or the dizzying scent of tobacco smoke from a Cigar and fresh Cubanita espresso on the Plaza Almas, Habana, Cuba. Now my tan is fading, and life is returning back to normal, it feels only right that I should finish what I started and complete my blog.
February 28th 2010 Flying from Fiji to LA meant that we gained a day, so we used the extra time to do a bit of sightseeing in Hollywoodland for the night. Yeah LA!! Though a tad crazy, and incredibly contrived, there is a buzz in the air that draws you in, dazzles your socks off, and makes you believe in the make-believe. After our shuttle-stop tour of all the main attractions; Hollywood Boulevard, the Kodak Theater, Rodeo Drive , Sunset Boulevard, even
making a quick stop through the Four Seasons Beverly Wiltshire Hotel, which starred alongside Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. I’m glad we experienced La la land, it’s a place that needs to be seen first hand, exceeding my expectations of all the bad reviews I’d heard.
The next morning we escaped, heading back to the airport for a canceled flight and 7-hour delay, we passed our time judging the lunatic asylum wandering around LAX. I’m at odds with the States. Far from disliking it there, however I still find that although there is no language barrier, no problems getting from A to B, and no restrictions on my freedom, I can never quite let go. I feel more at home in South-East Asia than I do in North America. It’s a common misconception I think, that it’s easy and natural to skip from one English speaking nation to another, and although we share a few similar qualities. Culture, and mind-set are definitely not part of them.
One of my favorite places to explore in the US however has to be San Francisco. I love it for its hills! Not only that but where those hills lead! I’ve been
once before, but only for 48 hours on my first trip across America a couple of years ago. So it hardly counts really. But it gave me a taste for some more bum-crunching hikes, cable car rides, Ghiradelli chocolate, and Clam Chowder down on the Wharf!
On day 2 we made it our mission to visit Alcatraz, the infamous island known for it’s crims and vagabonds! It did not disappoint! On leaving via the obligatory gift shop on the way out we noticed a book signing taking place. Bit of a strange place to bag a celebrity authors signature? Maybe, but this was no ordinary signing, Darwin E Coon one of the last convicts to leave the rock after serving four years for bank robbery was obliging his services for the bargain of 8 bucks a book! Of course we got one! Why not?!
The rest of our time in San Francisco saw us meandering across the Golden Gate bridge and back, browsing the CD racks of Amoeba Records, and eating a hideously indulgent slice of cheesecake factory
5th and 6th March 2010
San Francisco - Mexico City - Cancun - Habana, Cuba! Due to trade embargos, there are no direct flights from North America into Cuba, so Mom and I took a detour via Mexico City. In hindsight, this became more complicated that was probably necessary, but all part of the adventure I suppose.. It reminded me how to catch a plane unchaperoned at least.
Taking separate flights into Cuba we were scheduled to land within an hour of one another, so hardly any waiting around.. Or so we thought.. I landed, I passed Passport, Customs & Immigration checking, and then just as I was off to grab my bags and make my way through to arrivals to find Mom, a typically intimidating Security Officer demanded to see my Passport shortly before making off with it ushering me away, leaving me stranded and really rather confused. Thinking that was probably the last I’d seen of it, and that next I would probably be imprisoned or deported..
I found a corner of the room where other 
The Ambos Mundos
Literally translating to "Both Worlds" a hotel frequented by Ernest Hemmingway..people had been relieved of their passport too! And were stood around awaiting questioning, I mean standard security checking.. Standard.. Great! After about an hour and a half of hanging around and being asked about my job, my camera, my intentions, my blood group.. ANYWAY I burst through the doors of arrivals, VERY pleased to see my poor Mom waiting for me, probably wondering if I’d been swallowed by the baggage carousel. And after getting a few Convertible Pesos at an exchange rate of about 1.2CUC to £1 as well as incurring an 11%!c(MISSING)ommission on top - Nice! We ventured off into Havana City..
The taxi journey into Havana Vieja, swept over me like I’d hoped. History on every corner, and revolutionary propaganda everywhere you look. It’s a place soaked in character and attitude. The locals are the friendliest and most obliging you could meet, and being two women on our own, the level of ‘extra’ attention wasn’t as full on as we’d been told either. We arrived at
our hotel ‘Hotel Inglaterra’ - Terrible cliché, I know! I’m sorry. Which dates back 1875, a beautifully colonial hotel, which sits on Central Park, in Havana’s old town. It has seen none other than Winston Churchill spend a night or two there during his visit in 1895.
Havana is a city of decent size; to date the population is over 2 million, and is distributed over 15 districts. It’s a gritty atmosphere, which gets under your skin, as does the Country on the whole. Music explodes from bars, and restaurants - both frequented by locals and tourists. This much is clear; you come to Cuba, because you love the music.
I suppose it’s taken me this long to come to a conclusion on Cuba. Or at least understand it a little better. Process everything that Cuba is, and digest everything you encounter. It’s an intense place, full of unanswered questions - Or questions cleverly reworded by Fidel, turned into a 736 page hardback and sold as an Autobiography. Don’t know what I mean? Google “Fidel Castro: My Life: A Spoken Autobiography” and read the introduction. It’s interesting how
historical documentation of Cuba’s past is shown from a very bias point of view, rehashing facts based on their own very one sided account. There’s no doubt that Cuban history has seen no end of poverty, struggle for independence, repression and bullying from stronger powers that be. However, is the continuation of its current economic climate down to an element of brainwashing? A manipulation maybe, so that future generations pass on ideals of the Castro Revolution? Resisting the 21st Century, and any help it might offer? It takes a lot of digging beneath the surface to understand why, and a few ‘objective’ books to read through too I think. Cuba reminds me of the kid at school you knew was getting a hard time at home, and therefore picked on everyone in their class as a result.
We spent a good 4-5 days rinsing Habana for it’s cultural offerings. Visiting the Museo de Revolucion, exhibiting artifacts from the days of the highly revered José Martí, early Revolutionary Party leader. Continuing through the October Missile Crisis in 1962, up until the present. Housed in the ex-governmental palace from where another of Cuba’s infamous leaders, General Fulgencio Batista hosted his corrupt
and repressive regime during the 1950’s, leading the Country into high levels of unemployment with slums, brothels, organized crime increasing beyond repair Being infiltrated by Northern American Mafia, and other drug mobs, left Cuba overwhelmingly deprived whilst still an incredibly beautiful country. It's not difficult to spend a few hours wandering through streets mesmerized by restored 1800's architecture bookended by dilapidated buildings, strolling under washing strewn across terraces, and older ladies spending hours watching down from their wrought iron clad windows in the evening shadows.
Not far from the Malecón - an iconic promenade where you’ll find couples kissing in the evening sunset, and jineteros sipping on bottles of Havana Club rum - is the Hotel Nacional. Owned by the same group of hotels as ours. [Largely, hotels throughout Cuba are State run; the tourism industry is truly used and abused for the good of the Country. Health care and education in Cuba are reportedly some of the best. So while you might not be staying in the most innovative of accommodation - there might be a peeling wall here and there, water might run out half way
though a shower - you can hope that the kids are being taken care of properly. They are after all the future!] Anyway, I digress.. The National Hotel is somewhat of an establishment. Frequented by an endless list of celebs, politicians, and other high profiles including Ernest Hemingway who has a rather ubiquitous presence in Havana. The National sits proudly over looking the Caribbean Sea, and boasts some damn fine Art Deco architecture as well as interior design. So we popped in for a Cuba Libre and a Mojito It was also used as the planning and strategy headquarters for the Communist Party and military during the Missile Crisis. You can have a stroll through the same trenches Fidel, Che and others would have trodden and into underground bunkers a little safer than they were in 1962.
A recommendation on Cuba took us to Viñales for the day, to visit the tabacco farms, buy a couple of hand-rolled cigars, taste copious amounts of rum, and take a journey through the glow-worm caves which were once used by the people who now form the Communist Party of Cuba, when they were hiding out in the hills preparing to carry out
a siege on the Capital, before taking power of the country in 1958.
We left Havana to taste a little more of Cuba and experience a bus journey or two. Our first stop was Cienfuegos to stay in our first Casa Particulares. The concept of this is basically a guesthouse run by local families. The difference is that, most families run one. Which makes accommodation in Cuba rich pickings! Excuse the brashness, but there are some incredible places to lay your hat in Cuba, and if you don’t experience one of them, it would be a massive shame. They are worth the trip alone! It’s a brilliant way to witness how families live and see how friendly and accommodating people are. It restores your faith, when you’re used to the customs of LDN! Cienfuegos is a quiet town, full of the Revolutionary reminders we found in Havana. When our bus pulled up, we off loaded to be greeted by our hosts, and taken back to our new abode for the next two nights of our journey.
It was a
welcome break from the hustle and bustle of Ciudad de Habana. Slower paced, and with horse and cart to get you from A to B here, meant that we saw a new side to Cuba, more of the level of development I expected too. Big cities tend to advance more by default because they are visited by more external influence. It’s inevitable that they will progress, especially with business and tourism. But Cienfuegos was relaxed; it had an air of calm, and meandering the cobbled UNESCO was easy, unhurried and leisurely. I think I was prepared for worse, which was totally unnecessary. When we arrived we went for a stroll down the rustic coastal Malecón, and found an empty hotel serving rum cocktails on the tip of the peninsula to take in the views.
On the main plaza in Cienfuegos, sits an impressive 1800’s Italian stylee theatre. The Teatro Tomas Terry is a tribute built by the Terry family when Tomas died in 1889, and commemorates the businessman, made famous for his dealings in the sugar trade. The theatre stands as a fairly typical example of Italian
architecture, beautiful ceiling murals, embellished detail over the stage, antique settings. What isn’t typical of this establishment however, is that in the reception area - instead of the standard collection of gift shop paraphernalia - you can find all manner of material dedicated to Fidelismo, and Che’s Cuba. The revolution and two of the most prevalent men in recent history. Globally, let alone on this rural island.
Next we organized ourselves onto a Viazul bus to Trinidad. Another UNESCO protected and funded provincial town. I’m glad Cuba have assistance from United Nations funding, helping them to restore and retrieve derelict buildings from disrepair. There is such a lot to protect on this largely untouched Caribbean island it would be a shame to not preserve it.
Trinidad radiates a colourful and happy charm the minute you arrive. And my when we did, we loved it. Our 2nd Casa Particulares was perfect, antique settings, and our own balcony/patio to eat breakfast on each morning. Overlooking the terracotta rooftops
of our neighbors and munching on fresh fruit.
There’s something rather elusive about this Country that takes more than a couple of weeks of Sun, Rum, and Son music to understand. However it does help, and we wasted no time getting to know Trinidad, and went in search of sustenance, which we found in the form of Ice Cream and an espresso. Despite new trade routes opening with Canada, Spain, Mexico, Venezuela and China in Cuba. There is still enough restriction on what you can and can’t get hold of in Cuba to make a difference, although ice cream and coffee never seemed to be in short supply. Thick, sweet and aromatic, Cubanita became a daily necessity and a great excuse to make frequent pit stops, and appreciate our surroundings. Second to this was another of Cuba’s famous exports. Rum! Havana Club came in all varieties of cocktail, and were appropriate for sipping all day long. My favorite was one concoction where lime tomato and salt are added to the tempting liquor. Mmmmmmm yum! Another cocktail - one invented in Trinidad - is the Canchancara. An addictive mixture of lime, honey and Rum, it would make a
good cold remedy! Sink a couple of these and you don’t need to worry about a runny nose!
Trinidad became our home for a few days, and we meandered the streets, endlessly browsing the markets, and the pretty streets lined with adobe style fronted homes in pastel shades. The ubiquitous propoganda replaced with sounds of Son, and blue cloudless sky instead of inner city smog. It was mesmerizing to watch salsa dancing classes take place in the warm evenings, listening to music burst from every bar, and café. Breathing in the atmosphere, and soaking up the sun.
One part of Cuban life that did become more apparent were the jineteros. Jineteros and jineteras, are essentially escorts. For your pleasure as much as theirs it seems, and it appears there’s no taboo attached either. A concept not uncommon the world over, here however it is not unheard of for women to have the company of their own jinetero, for a few days, or a week, or maybe longer.. And they can be found wherever the fun is. Usually in a bar. We found ourselves accosted frequently by a bottle of rum attached to a man offering his dancing skills.
Bless.. A few dances later and a few gracious declines. Me and mom found ourselves on the hunt for salsa congo drumming lessons. Which we found under the shade of trees in the center courtyard of La Ruinas del Teatro Brunet, a popular nightspot and venue for local bands. Ah Guillermo! - Guillermo, Guillermo, Guillermo! After a few enquiries, we were introduced to our teacher Guillermo Galan, one of the nicest guys I’ve had the pleasure to meet. Sitting us both down after assembling a couple of Congos in front of us, he got us tapping out the familiar beat which we had become so accustomed to hearing.. 1-2-1-3-3-2-1-2.. Ting ting, ting ting.. Or something like that.. Brilliant! I love a bit of spontaneous excitement! I wasn’t half bad at it either, although Guillermo did put a lot of effort in. “Open your mind!” “Come on now, be serious. Again..” It was one of the highlights on this trip for sure. Amazing!
Watching a sunset is something that I will never tire of. But the ones in Trinidad are something special. The colour in the sky!
The reds, the oranges, the vast sweeping formations of the clouds! You just want to drink it all in and hope it never ends. After all another sunset means the end of another day, therefore one more day closer to leaving. We made the most of every single one.
If I ever make another trip back to Cuba - which I hope I do someday - I will probably make straight for Trinidad. Such a beautiful, beautiful town. Modest, and in every corner you find a treasure, like Casa del la Trova. A well known establishment, for locals and tourists alike, where bands from all over Cuba come to perform under the vine covered beams of la Trova. A fantastic place to take in some of the best music in Trinidad, and to meet some incredible musicians. We spent one afternoon chatting away to one of the Son bands who played to crowds each afternoon, before catching up with our drum teacher again in the evening to watch a bit of Cuba’s national sport - Baseball - as well as listen to more lovely, brilliant, consuming salsa sounds!
Unless you drive around, you will unavoidably find yourself at
a tour-booking desk to organise transfers, hotels and tickets. Before we left Havana, knowing that we had just two weeks to see as much as we could of Cuba, and experiencing a few ‘technical difficulties’ with the internet So in light of all this, we approached Tyse, a very bubbly, enthusiastic, and helpful Cuban girl, who pointed us in the right direction of all the places she wanted to go.. I mean we needed to see. She really was lovely though, and
wanted to make sure we had the best possible experience I think. Though I can’t help feeling it was a little guided by Cubatur’s own initiative.
Anyway, it got us on the road and into our Casa Particulares - And up to Varadero. After we’d spent a few days taking in the sun-baked streets of Trinidad. We headed up through the middle of the country to a small, but very concentrated peninsula of the tip of Santa Marta.
Varadero was where a lot of the fall out from the 1930’s prohibition in the States went underground. Or overground, on the beach, living it up with a Cuba Libre rather. The architecture stands as a reminder of the days of the holidaying elite such as Al Capone, Sinatra, and a plethora of other stars as well as those infamous for their dealings with the mafia, and drug mobs. Most of the large estates, which were once owned by wealthy tourists, were expropriated after the Revolution, and many still stand in a state of disrepair. Rotting carcasses on a magnificent beachfront, blending into a perfectly blue sea. [Or it would have been if it weren’t for the Portuguese man of
war, which stopped us from paddling.] It was these types of contrasts throughout Cuba, which we were getting used to day-by-day.
No matter what your opinion of ‘All Inclusive’ resorts, there is something somewhat uncomfortable about having access to an all day, all you can eat, wristband tagged, over indulgent, at your service cocoon, when the rest of the country are still suffering food shortages and are rationed, where you get the feeling people are obliged to be nice, even though they are living in modest accommodation 80 kilometers away. I don’t know if I’m reading too much into how Varadero exists, but I do know that Varadero isn’t the real Cuba. Despite it’s rugged beauty, it lacks the vibrancy we’d encountered in other parts of the island. Varadero seems to be missing its soul. As though there’s been an Apartheid, as you pass over the security-controlled bridge onto the strip of dated hotels and resorts, there’s a definite sense of ‘Us and Them’. Which strikes me as a tad contradictory in a Communist country.
We didn’t quite feel like we’d gotten to grips with Cuba, before we had to make tracks back to Habana, and top up
on rum and cigars. Chilling out, getting ready for our final 3 weeks together in Mexico!
Willers On Cuba. If we’ve spoken since I got back, you’d be forgiven for thinking that I didn’t enjoy every minute of my time in Cuba. But you couldn’t be further from the truth. ‘Travelling’, exploring, backpacking or ‘flashpacking’, whatever you want to call it, it should be about more than blue delectable sea’s, beautiful sunsets and hot sun beaming on your skin while you sip a cool Mojito. It’s about understanding your boundaries, and pushing them. Losing control over your comfort zone, and growing up, growing into a more open mind. It should be an education in more ways than one. And that’s what Cuba was for me. It taught me about what a revolution really means, about how a Communist country works, and doesn’t work. We experienced first-hand how a country under a regime with such a romanticized, troubled history mixed with a present so contradictory yet culturally rich exists on a day-to-day basis . Cuba is by far one of the most fascinating places I’ve visited.
“Lacking hundreds of consumer goods that clamor for twenty-four-hour attention, the state, it’s leader, and his philosophy became the only products constantly available to everyone”
Tom Miller, Trading with the enemy. Information on Cuba
Visit: http://havanajournal.com/
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cuba
Read: http://www.amazon.com/Trading-Enemy-Travels-Through-Castros/dp/0465005039/ref=pd_sim_b_2
Listen: To follow..
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