Cuba


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Central America Caribbean » Cuba
August 20th 2011
Published: August 20th 2011
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Cuba

Wednesday

When we left Havana airport we realized immediately that we were in Cuba and could not be in any other country in the world. Why not? Because of the time-slip scene of colourful and huge American automobiles from the 1950s which chug and growl down every road. I knew they still existed in Cuba, but I thought they would be scarce sight. But no. They were everywhere. There were other cars, of course, and even some modern cars, but the "old timers" as they are called, are the ones which grab your attention. It was a unique and fascinating scene. But more on cars later.

On the drive into Havana city from the airport we passed many of the concrete buildings, often painted Cuba-flag blue, which were built during the “Russian” era when Cuba was supported by their fellow communists. There are many of these uninspiring buildings, still seen all over Eastern Europe, but they seem out of place in this hot, tropical country. They really are not very attractive and, like just about every building in Cuba, are in need of some serious maintenance.

The three lane road into the city was not very busy, even though we were travelling during rush hour on a work day. Compared to the airport roads in London, or Shanghai, or any other major city, it was practically deserted. However, in brilliant contrast to the long grey strip of the road and the grey concrete buildings were the vibrant and vivid red "flame" trees, the lush green tropical vegetation and, of course, the colourful old cars.

As got nearer Havana there were more Russian built apartments which also needed some attention but were not as run down as I had expected. It appeared that the Russians built many buildings in the time they were here (60s to early 90s) but no-one (which in Cuba means the government) picked up the contract to maintain them.

If you take the cars on the roads as an example, you can get a pretty good idea of the foreign influences here: from before 1959 there are the loud American cars, from 1960 - 1990 the Russian built Ladas and Moskevitches, and currently there are Chinese built cars. In fact the Chinese appeared to be the major supplier of goods and services to Cuba. Our coach was Chinese for which we were grateful (the previous coaches were Russian). It seemed that anything new such as cars and traffic lights were Chinese built. The Russians only come to Cuba here as unwelcome tourists. However it not just the Chinese who invest here because our hotel was built and run by the Spanish. Which is not always a good thing.

Before we left home I had been unsure about how to obtain Cuban pesos; you certainly can’t trot along to your local Thomas Cook and get them over the counter. You can't use traveller’s cheques because they are all issued by American Express which is the devil as far as the Cuban government is concerned. You can use debit or credit cards in ATMs if your card is not issued by an American bank and if you can cope with the eye-watering commission the Cubans charge. So the best strategy is to take lots of sterling notes. Big hotels have exchange offices, or “cadegas” which are government owned, of course. They happily take your filthy foreign currency and give you convertible pesos at a reasonably fair rate.

Thursday
Cuba, we had been warned, is not a country you visit to experience its cuisine, so we were interested to see what faced us at breakfast. The Hotel was Spanish run and actually the breakfast was OK. Nothing more, but if you stick to toast, egg and fruit you can't go far wrong. Deep fried fig and banana is quite difficult to face in the morning. But considering the USA will not deal with Cuba and the country can't afford many foreign imports, they do surprisingly well.

Revolution square is a very big expanse of asphalt and is used for big gatherings, including the recent (well, it is still talked about - it was actually 1998) Pope's visit. Overlooking the square, covering a concrete apartment block, was the huge face of the national hero, Che Guevara. In fact Che Guevara's image was just about everywhere we looked. The huge square had the feel of an empty car park but, like a lot of things in Cuba, it is symbolic and nationally important.

Being in Cuba we had to visit a cigar shop and to see the huge number of types, strengths and prices of cigars. Our guide gave us advice and I ended up buying a £3 hand rolled cigar, which I tried later on but never actually finished. It was quite pleasant to smoke but the unpleasant bottom-of-an-ashtray aftertaste sticks in your mouth for hours.

It was fascinating walking through the streets of old Havana. Most of the buildings needed repairs and attention and a lucky few were getting it. The majority were just poorly patched and crumbling. The architecture is old colonial which has influences of Spanish, Moorish, Italian and Greek, if you can imagine that. There were understated shops and tall apartments. It seemed that most doorways had people sitting in them, chatting, smoking cigars and watching the world go by. We were on the “Hemingway Tour” so anywhere with a remote connection with the writer was a “must-see”, so we saw the bar where he would drink 15 daiquiris and chat to the locals. We also saw the hotel he used, presumably when he was too drunk to get to home on the outskirts of Havana. The hotel had a collection of photos of the famous man enjoying himself fishing, drinking and smoking. He seemed like good fun.

We peered into the gloomy interior of a “bodega” which is a shop, or more accurately a room with shelves, where everyone takes their ration books to get their basic food requirements. The idea is that everyone gets a minimum amount of food to ensure no one starves. So here you get your monthly rice, sugar, some meat, 8 eggs, marmalade (if you are young or pregnant), cigars and cigarettes. (here is an interesting article: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rationing_in_Cuba)
The system provides less than half a person’s needs so Cubans use the traditional markets or now the supermarkets but they are many times more expensive. One way of boosting your income is taking your allowance of cigars (which cost pennies) then selling them to tourists or other Cubans for £s. It’s an odd system with good intentions but has so many problems and inefficiencies and it may well change in the future.

Everyone we had seen had looked healthy and well dressed. There were no beggars and music was heard everywhere. Cocktails seem to be drunk at the drop of a hat and laughter abounds. Life expectancy is better than USA and literacy level is very high. However not everything was as it seems. The monthly wage is about 20 cuc (convertible Cuban peso) which equates to about £13. This is about one fifth of what you need to live. The gap of 80 cuc is made up by second jobs, tips and, very importantly, by money sent from relatives in Florida. But this is still not the whole story. In addition to the cuc (in which most things are priced and which we used), there is the national Cuban peso. One cuc=25 national pesos and the problem is that people get paid in national pesos (remember they are all employed by the government) which are practically worthless. You can only use them for your monthly rations and for some government items such as opera tickets and museums. But this is what they are paid in so it's a bad method for the normal people and makes their lives harder and more complex than they really should be. They really need to have just one currency, a living wage and no rationing. Apparently this is the plan now that Raul Castro has taken over from his brother, but they are still waiting.

When I think of Cuba I think of Cigars (see above) but if I think a little harder I think of Cocktails. And specifically cocktails based on their ubiquitous sugar based spirit: Rum. So around mid-day of our first day our lovely guide decided it was time to stop in a fine colonial square for a round of cocktail drinks. The Mohito is probably the most famous of the Cuban cocktails. It is made of rum, water, mint, lemon and is really quite delicious and refreshing. Hemingway’s favourite was daiquiri so we had to drink that as well, so we got the tour off to an excellent start!

As we sipped our cocktails, a musical band of three old men shuffled up and played Cuban music for us. This happens everywhere – Cubans like music and use it to supplement their meagre wages. These old men were probably pensioners on about £7 per MONTH. Our cocktails were about £2.50 each. Quite a sobering contrast.

We continued our walk through the hot streets of old Havana and we could see that it is a city which had an elegant and prosperous past but has suffered greatly in recent years. However the Cubans make do with the rather sparse hand they have been given, and they smile and sing while they are doing it. Entertainment is very much self made. A current fad we observed were shops offering you the opportunity to fire an air rifle at a tin can. Apparently there had been prizes awarded but this had been stopped, perhaps because the government thought it was too exciting. You could sense the dead hand of a government bureaucrat everywhere, but it doesn't stop the Cubans enjoying themselves and being proud of their country.

There were few, if any, beggars but there were many ingenious ways of parting you from your money. For example, in one square we saw 3 attractive-ish ladies in heavy makeup and very colourful costumes who, we were warned, would accost you, kiss you and then demand payment in return. However no matter how many times I walked past them they didn't even give me a second look. There was also a statue of a man holding a scroll at groin height, and the story is that the sculptor had a grudge against the town and so he arranged and shaped the man’s scroll so that from certain positions.... Well, I am sure you get the picture!

The cathedral square was elegant and nicely proportioned and the cathedral itself was airy and cool which was very welcome on a hot humid day. When the communists took over in 1959 religion was effectively banned and many churches were converted to other uses. Now though, Catholicism is tolerated and in fact the Pope visited Cuba in 1998. However there is another religion called Santeria which apparently has more followers than Catholicism. Santeria is a mixture of Catholicism and African spiritualism (scary!). We saw some Santerians who were wearing white. They also sacrifice chickens.

Our first lunch was taken at a restaurant on a roof with splendid views across the harbour to the old fort. And it was here we realised that eating places do not operate in the same way that we are used to. They are mostly government run (although a few "freelance" restaurants have opened recently) and apart from providing employment for the population, they give a passable service to the customer. They are though, pretty sprightly in getting drinks to your table (for information, cold Crystal is the beer of choice). You can request and look at a menu but it doesn't seem to mean much, because the waiter will usually announce "chicken, pork, lobster" or whatever the meat is and it will come fried. We declined the big meat meal and were brought a small plate of meaty nibbles which we enjoyed in the hot sun. 4 hours later I felt as if someone had taken a hand blender to my stomach. A further 8 hours later and many trips to the toilet I was over the worst. The speed it came on though was truly impressive. Probably the meaty nibbles were to blame.

We travelled back to our hotel via the famous waterfront strip called the Malecon which years ago would have been very impressive. Now it needs much repairing. Further along is the American embassy which still has Americans in it. Cheekily, the Cuban government have built a meeting or rally area right outside the embassy where they arrange mass demonstrations and chant anti-USA slogans.

Friday

By breakfast the hand blender had been removed from my sore stomach and I was able to face scrambled eggs and toast. In the middle of the night I had really thought I would be staying in my room all day with only a bottle of water and a stock of toilet paper for company.

We drove out of havana to the west, past more blue concrete, but there were also some fantastic large colonial buildings set in beautiful gardens, once owned by the rich of Cuba and America. Now, of course, they are owned by the government. We also went past Castro’s place, but all we saw was a very long grey concrete wall.

The relatively few cars on the roads displayed many different coloured number plates: blue for government (the majority), yellow for private, brown for tourist hire car, black is diplomat, orange for church, green for military and I am sure there are more, but forget. Private cars are very hard to own. In fact you have to have worked abroad, and returned, to be given the opportunity to buy a private car. I am afraid I just don't see the logic in that, unless it is to sweeten the shock of returning to Cuba!

The botanic gardens were extensive, a bit run down but interesting none-the-less. Our knowledgeable local guide showed us some interesting plants and then we toured the “world”, each area had been planted with plants indigenous to that area. The Japanese garden seemed to be in need of renovation, but then again, everything does. And yet again there are lots of "workers" doing not very much. However I just love being in tropical areas so I was not disappointed.

Hemingway's house outside Havana was really quite a surprise. It was large, airy and perfectly liveable and had been frozen in time in the 1950s. It had fantastic views over the valley and I could imagine sitting on the terrace with a large mohito and a group of friends . There was a swimming pool and tennis court in the beautiful tropical garden. It was very much a man's house with stuffed heads of large animal adorning the halls. He had presumably shot the unfortunate beasts with one of the guns in his armoury, which was on display. Hemingway wrote "the old man of the sea" here - see below.

We had another stop for cocktails (this time it was a blue curaçao daiquiri) in a bar and a quick look at Hemingway's footprints (which were displayed on the wall) and then it was back to Havana for lunch. During our lunch we were treated to some very good flamenco dancers who amazed us all by dancing to their version of "Smoke on the water" by Deep purple(a 1970s heavy rock band for those who don't know)!

I thought I should read a Hemingway book, given that we were on "Hemingways Cuba" tour so I settled down to read "the old man and the sea" which was the book which really made his name. In fact he made so much money from it, it enabled him to buy the big house we had seen and settle down to a life of wine, women and song. The book took me just a few hours to finish and was surprisingly readable. It is about an old man who catches a huge marlin fish and his battle to get it ashore. I am not sure if there is a hidden message in the story; to me it is just an evocative tale of a man battling nature. I suspect he heard a tale from the fisherman and used his writing skills to make an entertaining and readable yarn.

Saturday

We left relatively cosmopolitan Havana and headed into the rural west and to the town of Vinales. There were fewer cars and more horse drawn carts as we left the city. However there were frequent police traffic check points which, given the number of private cars, seemed to be completely unnecessary. I would imagine that if you have a private car and need to travel any distance you would have to factor in frequent police stops. Occasionally we saw people on the side of the road selling a pineapple, or eggs, or garlic or cheese, but this is illegal and they have to hide if the police appear. It seems the state puts in numerous barriers to make life difficult for the normal person.

We went on a mandatory visit to a cigar factory, which I was looking forward to because I wanted to see the young Cuban women rolling the cigars on their thighs. The process starts with the farmers who grow the tobacco in their fields, they cut the leaves the take them to one of the many big drying barns which are all over the countryside. After drying, the leaves are taken to one of the many cigar factories where they are sorted and taken to the cigar rollers. Unfortunately I discovered that young female cubans do not roll the cigars on their thighs, or any other parts of their bodies. In fact, looking at the typical cigar worker, I was heartily glad they don't roll them on their thighs! They work every other day which means they can have a second job to supplement their meagre wage. They can also take a few cigars home for private use or sale. They have a target of producing 120 cigars a day, or about 1400 cigars a month. In contrast their wage is the equivalent of just 4 cigars' retail price. Whichever way you look at it, the government do very well out of the industry. I had heard that the workers are read to while they work which is true, but its not political, it is more likely to be a newspaper or book.

There are not many developed tourist sights in Cuba, but one which is the Indian Cave which was discovered in the 1940s by farmers. We walked through narrow passages of stalagmites and stalagmites then climbed aboard a small boat and taken on a ride through watery caverns where if you look hard and stretch your imagination you can see a snake, crocodile, face, seahorse and the Indian after which the cave is named. I looked hard but I didn't see the Indian.

As we made our way in the coach to our next hotel the rain came down in the torrential way it does in the tropics. We made it to the hotel where we found the lobby full of football fans watching Barcelona v Manchester United. Unfortunately for the noisy fans (all cheering for the Spanish team, of course) the storm disrupted the TV signal, so they would get 20 seconds of action then it would fizz and splutter for a couple of minutes, then 10 seconds of action and off again, and so on. However they were very happy because Barcelona won.

Our simple room had fantastic views over the valley below and across to stunning hills which rose vertically like islands from the flat valley floor. It was a wonderful experience (if a little frightening) watching the tremendous storm over this breathtaking landscape.

We had been prepared for an inferior hotel but we actually preferred it's old colonial style to the more international, corporate hotel we had left in Havana. The rooms were simple and clean with a comfortable bed and great shower. Who needed more? Or tasty food? There was a particularly splendid wood lined bar with fans and an obliging barman so we had to try the mojitos, the dacquiries and the melatis. And at under £2 for each cocktail they were a bargain.

Sunday
Just outside Vinales we visited a huge mural which had been painted on the bare rock face. It is depicted the progression of life from early life forms through dinosaurs, giant mammals to man. It was painted in the 1960s, in the early days of communist regime. From a distance it looked quite primitive and appeared to be a sad defacing of the natural surroundings, however close up we discovered it had been painstakingly created with little stripes and was a lot more sophisticated than seemed at first sight. Why had it been painted? I think maybe Castro wanted something big, possibly the biggest in the world at the time, to show the world what the revolution was capable of. Also it may have been an anti-religion statement because it was praising evolution (and therefore refuting biblical creation) at a time when religion was not tolerated.

Our splendid guide stopped the coach and disappeared into a house and returned to say we were welcome to look round a typical farmer's dwelling. It consisted of 2 small bedrooms and a living and kitchen area. No television (which was, in fact, unusual) and only one electric ring and a pressure cooker with which to cook. Two rocking chairs filled the living area and a portable cd/radio provided the entertainment. The house was constructed of white painted overlapping planks and, for coolness, there was plenty of ventilation. Water came from a well but unfortunately this was dry so the family had to travel to the nearest village to get it, and they did not own a car or motorbike. However they seemed reasonably happy, particularly when we tipped them an amount which was the equivalent of the average monthly wage.

The farmers we visited were typical in that they don't own their own transport so if they need to travel a distance further than they can walk, and a bus is not available, they will stand at the side of the road for a lift. Drivers are obliged to give free lifts (ie not charge money) and, as normal, there is a government transport inspector to try to enforce this. However you still see many, many people waving money at the traffic, hoping to attract a lift.

Our next stop was a garden and orchid farm. Originally created by a Spaniard it was run by a university. We were taken around by a very knowledgeable, academic guide who was also, so we found later, a gifted artist. He was very interesting but I am afraid I cannot recall any of the many plants' Latin names he kindly gave us. It is principally an orchid garden so we saw an amazing variety of the plants, however for me the highlight was the colourful humming birds.

Our tour guide liked to warn us (or more accurately, set our expectations) about things such as hotel food, journeys, murals and so on, and she told us that, being Sunday, the hotel pool would be full of Cubans who had paid to use the facilities. And this would mean LOUD MUSIC because, apparently, in Cuba the quality of music is based completely on it's volume. In the event it wasn't as bad as the grim picture she had painted, but the locals certainly were fond of loud music, noisy chatter and lots and lots of rum.

Our room key entitled us to visit the nearby waterfall so we strolled the quarter mile to the entrance followed by two dogs which seemed to have adopted us. The path to to the falls cut through the thick tropical forest with all it's wonderful sounds and sights, including my favourite, the busy humming birds. The waterfall was nice but then the rain started and grew steadily heavier and heavier. We were sheltered by the dense forest foliage but by the the time we got to the shelter of the waterfall restaurant it was very heavy, far too heavy to return to the hotel so we sat with others of our group, had a refreshing beer or two and watched the storm intensify. It was truly awesome, in the true sense of the word. It reached its most intense level whilst overhead with deafening thunder and blinding lightning and the wind whipped horizontal rain through the open sided restaurant. After an hour or so it moved on and we made our way back to our rooms, where we discovered the partying cubans had used our private veranda for a shelter and party venue. We didn't mind at all but they could have cleared up the empty beer cans and rum bottles which they had left strewn around our doorway.

Another stern warning we had received was about how Cuban men like to drink and then drive their cars, so as we walked down the road to the restaurant for our evening meal we weren't surprised to see two 1950s American cars, full of revellers from the poolside, moving at about walking speed with the drivers hanging out of the windows waving to everyone. We kept well clear.

We were getting familiar with Cuban meals, so as long as you know what to expect, it's fine. You just don't tend to look forward to them as you would, say, in India, or Vietnam. For our evening meal we had a mandatory cocktail to start, of course) followed by a salad plate of tomato, cucumber and beetroot. The main course was a choice of fried fish, pork or chicken accompanied by dark rice with black beans and vegetables came in the guise of potato crisps! All meals tended to be very meat dominated and fortunately the meat has been excellent. Dessert was a nice creme caramel type tart. It was perfectly adequate and really quite tasty.

As we ate our meal we saw a bright light across the stream in the trees. It was as bright as a torch so our first thought was that a person was walking the path, but then the light rose up 10 ft and then we realised it was the most brilliant firefly. One flew over our heads later in an open bar and they are the most amazing creatures. There was some speculation that with something that bright attached to you, it would be advisable to wear sunglasses and asbestos gloves. Unfortunately we couldn't get close enough to the little creatures to see if they were wearing such protection. We drank some more piña colada.

Monday

Tourism is a relatively new phenomenon in Cuba, the government have only reluctantly allowed foreign tourists in since the early 1990s to fill the huge financial hole the Russians left. Furthermore the government keeps a tight control (like all areas of life in Cuba) on the tourism industry, although it has been gradually relaxing it's grip in recent years. But the good news for us is that you don't have to wade through acres of rubbishy tat which surround most tourist sites throughout the world. The few items we saw on sale were usually locally made with easily obtainable materials. But honestly, who wants a camera made of old tin cans? And every day you will be offered Che Guevara coins and notes which are best avoided, unless you happen to want such a souvenir, of course.

Sugar, pre revolution, was the major export for Cuba and we visited a sugar plantation called, confusingly Australia. Why? Because Australians ran it in the 1950s. Since the revolution the Americans will not buy Cuban sugar and, to their discredit, discourage others from buying it, so Cuba has looked elsewhere and the Russians stepped in until their own communist world collapsed in the 1990s. Sugar production in Cuba has limped along since and, sadly, the Australia sugar mill was closed in early 2004 when the sugar price dropped to 5 cents. It is now risen to 37c but they can't get the parts to repair it because the machinery is Russian, and they are no longer financing Cuba. When Russia collapsed in early 1990s $5 billion was removed from this small country and it was a complete disaster for everyone here. Hence they turned reluctantly to tourism.

The sugar mill was just about derelict but a railway train shed was still being used to try to keep ancient steam trains running. There were 4 or 5 trains in various states of dilapidation but at least one was still running. So after clambering over the trains under repair in the shed we boarded a working one for a short journey, for which we had paid about £10. What made this journey memorable though was that a few of us were allowed to stand in the cab with the driver and his mate. We didn't travel much above jogging speed but we had huge grins on our faces the whole trip. The train was about 90 years old and German built and it wheezed and wobbled it's way down the rickety tracks to a small sugar plantation. We disembarked and were treated to music and dancing, which seems to be Cuban law whenever two or more tourists are gathered together. An ancient dancer swivelled his hips in a way he thought was sexy (but I thought was a little ridiculous but I am no dancer). He also claimed sugar cane juice was a natural viagara so I tried some of the extremely sweet, syrupy liquid but all I wanted to do was clean my teeth. We then had the spectacle of a man climbing a palm tree, which was made more interesting by a small bird who dived bombed the unlucky climber. It was all great fun under the hot Cuban sun, but the highlight was without doubt the ride in the train cab.

Cienfuegos means 100 fires and, to be honest, I forget why. It has a lovely clean square with nicely preserved buildings. Unfortunately the theatre we were due to see was closed for fumigation. The disappointment of missing the theatre tour was more than made up by a visit to a large house/palace where a Maria Prakatan look and sound-a-like warbled and bashed her way through some unfamiliar tunes on a desperately out of tune piano. Cocktails (Cuba libre) on the roof watching the rain storm descend on us more than made up for the musical catastrophe.

Lunch was unremarkable except that crocodile was one of the meat options.

And so to Trinidad.
I have experienced many different hotels and I have had staff subject me to "hard sells" of excursions, special drinks, guide services and so on but I have never, ever had a hard sell of laundry services. It happened like this: a man brought our suitcases to our room and I tipped him. He asked if I wanted any laundry done. I replied I didn't know and anyway we were staying three days, so no hurry. He ignored what I said and assured us our clothes would be back cleaned and pressed tomorrow. No thanks I said, now a bit annoyed. He went away but came back half hour later with plastic bags of washing saying he was collecting and was my washing ready. NO I said. Anyway, it turned out he runs an unofficial service and his mother washes the clothes. This is typical - everyone is trying to supplement their meagre wages, legal or otherwise. Later on he accosted me yet again and asked if my laundry was ready to be collected. I was annoyed so I used the official hotel laundry service and paid twice the price!

As we waited for our meal in the hotel restaurant a tall, cold man sidled up to our table. He had an official badge with the word "magic" printed on it. He thrust a wooden box in front of us and said "you open box. 10 pesos". Taken aback, at first I thought he meant that if I opened the box he would give me 10 pesos (£7) but what he really meant was that I could buy this box for 10 pesos. He showed me how to open the box but really who wants such a thing to torment your friends with? Seeing he was not going to get a sale, he pulled out a pack of worn playing cards in front of us and flicked through them and they appeared to be blank. Hey presto! when he flicked through them again they looked normal. Now, I had such a pack when I was 12 years old and put on a better performance (in my opinion). Seeing we were not impressed he played around with a coin and then a cigarette which he proceeded to push in his eye but obviously didn't. Then rubbed his finger to make it look longer, which it didn't. So I decided to perform my detachable thumb routine (which frightens children), then another of our group did his detachable thumb routine, and then the magician tried to come back with his own version which, by common consent, was not as good as ours It all fell apart, he had lost his audience so he stormed off in a huff. The sad thing is, he was probably a very clever man, an engineer or doctor or something, and has to supplement his income in this, to him, demeaning way. But he should put much more effort into it.

The meal was not too bad, but the edge was taken off by the magician glowering at us from across the room. As normal we had a couple of rounds of cocktails afterwards, including a new multicoloured one which reminded me of the "zoom" ice lolly from the 1960s.


Tuesday

Trinidad is a unesco heritage site and is a perfect, original 18th century town, complete with cobbled streets. The houses which line the streets are small but colourful and retain their original features. A beautiful airy large house called Palacio Brunet, dating from 1704, contains the Museo Romantico which has original works of art and furniture. The house was built and furnished by a rich Spanish merchant who made his money from sugar and slaves. He had 8 daughters, one of whom became pregnant by an unknown man and the disgrace was so great that he upped sticks and went back to Spain leaving the house and everything in it. I don't know if this story is true but the house is certainly full of European furniture and porcelain. It is also full of attendants, sometimes three in a room and it is obvious how the government keeps unemployment low. And like everyone else in Cuba, they have to supplement their poor wages, and in the museum they do it by selling embroidery they have made to the few foreign tourists.

The museum attendants appeared to be exclusively women. The men folk appeared to be employed to sit around outside or in the shade of a doorway. Nothing much seems to be done though we did see a couple of builders. We saw another large palace which, apparently, has been under renovation for 7 years but there was no hint of activity while we were there. However, things are changing. There is a market selling handicrafts (surprisingly good) which is a recent, probably grudging, concession by the government. The stallholders appear to have more motivation than the listless men who lounge around the town. Another recent concession are the "paladares" which are homes turned into restaurants, and we had our lunch in one called "Sol-Ananda" which had been open only for a month and was the only eating place in the town not owned by the government. It really was a house turned into a restaurant because in one room the tables surrounded the bed! We had a long table for 10 with beautiful cutlery and crockery and crystal type glasses. It looked refined and the food matched it and included a totally new Cuban culinary experience; soup. The room, the table and the food were all splendid but what made the meal so memorable was the music group who sang for us, or rather, gave us a concert. They were the best we had seen, and, believe me, we had seen a lot. They were so good we all bought their CD, so they were happy and so were we.

The enjoyable lunch, the music band's CD and the mandatory cocktails last night had depleted our pesos and we had just 6 left, or 3 cocktails worth. So we were desperate for money. I walked 15 minutes to the hotel's Cadega (money exchange) at 5pm. The office's published opening times were 8.30 to 6 but a hand written sign, which had a distinct look of permanence, said "today we shut at 4". Oh bother!

Wednesday

We wandered down the hot cobbled streets into the centre off Trinidad again. Sitting in a small, pretty town square under the shade of a colourful tree was pretty much perfect, until a big lady came along to sell me a Che Guevara coin, which I didn't want. Didn't she remember me from yesterday?

The "Contra Banditos" museum told the story of the fight against the anti-revolutionaries (i.e. they were pro Batista, anti Castro) who infested the hills behind Trinidad just after the revoluton. And like the other museums it also provided employment for large numbers of women. For some years the bandits caused disruption to the newly created regime of 1959, until they were rooted out. The museum contained many photographs, a boat with a machine gun and a lorry. Unfortunately for us the explanations were in Spanish but the story was clear enough and I learnt a little more about those turbulent times.

We were without our guide so were a bit more of a target for sellers of various items, but it was never too threatening or intimidating. As lunch approached, though, the restaurant sellers were out in droves, well, 3 or 4. All offering lobster for around £4 . Apparently you have to be a little careful taking up their offers, but we weren't hungry anyway so we decided to return to the hotel. At that moment a man offering a taxi drive in an old American car popped up and we took him up on his kind offer. It was a blue Chevrolet with no working speedometer of dials of any kind, the windows were permanently up and, of course there was no air conditioning so it was stiflingly hot inside. But great fun and a thrill to be such an iconic vehicle.

As I have remarked before, everyone has to supplement their low wages so the waiter at the hotel where we lunched also sold key rings with bits of sea shore, including crabs, encased in the fob. We bought one.

There had been a caricature artist in the dining room and, although I generally avoid such people like the plague, he was so amazingly good many of us commissioned him to draw us. He used watercolours and the result was a little masterpiece, although I looked positively evil. It will look good on the toilet wall. Further entertainment was provided by a troupe of dancers, some of whom were more enthusiastic than others.


Thursday

Santa Clara is the sight of one of Che Guevara's guerilla actions prior to the successful revolution. They planted a bomb which derailed a train, which although not hugely effective, was very symbolic. The derailed trucks remain, well maintained (perhaps the best maintained trucks in the country) and it is quite an evocative place.

For an officially atheist country it was strange to have a town named Spiritus Sancti or "holy spirit". So a pat on the back to the revolutionary government for not renaming it Che-ville or Castro-town. The meat market was interesting in that it's where the Cubans get their meat (obviously). It was very hot and the meat sits on a slab in the sun with a covering of flies. The meat we have eaten, though, has been very tasty and we have suffered no serious repercussions.

We walked through a general market and the goods on display reflected the paucity of consumer goods in this country. You could get bolts and fuel caps though. A government (of course ) shop sells things for you, from tables, to old watches, to film slides with an ancient viewer. The variety and number of items was impressive but everything was in poor condition. But an excellent way of recycling.

Che Guevara is a national hero for his part in the revolution and his iconic face was everywhere. Castro, in contrast, did not have his face anywhere, though I should imagine he will when he dies. Che Guevaro's mausoleum was a big impressive stone structure and included a museum dedicated to the the life of "Che". Incidentally, his real name was Ernesto Guevara, but he was given the name Che because, apparently, that is the sound Argentinians make when they speak. The other part of the mausoleum was a dark, quiet, cool room which looks like it is carved out of rock and in here lie Che and about 40 other revolutionary heroes, although we only saw plaques with their names and dates on. This was as near to an official religious experience you can get in Cuba.

I had been dreaming and talking about food with a bit of spice and heat and lo, at the evening buffet was a bottle of Tabasco sauce which is my favourite fiery condiment. Imagine my disappointment when I found this version, made for the Cuban market, was as exciting as Heinz tomato sauce. My tip for travellers to Cuba who like spice is to bring your own bottle. Other than that little excitement the buffet was the usual bland fare.


Friday

We traveled to Remedios in the rain which was highly unusual. It was April and it had been warm everyday, sometimes hot. Rain seemed to arrive in late afternoon but on that day it arrived in the morning. Most unusual. The town had a big 16th Century church which was a functioning church, which demonstrated the more tolerant attitude the government has towards religion. The church was being prepared for a type of debutante celebration, with flowers and banners adorning the interior. Interestingly our guide knew very little about religion and didn't understand saints and all the paraphernalia which goes with it, having never been taught it or had contact with it.

From the church we went to a small museum of the carnival, which is held every year. There was competition between two neighbourhoods for the best float, dancers, singers and so on. To be honest the museum was a bit underwhelming but old photos showed that the carnival appeared to have survived all the years of political and economic turmoil.

As one of our group said reflecting on the church and the underwhelming museum, "we seem to have reached the fag-end of the tour!"

Saturday

As we drove in the rain through the agricultural land, we passed half a dozen Russian built, and presumably financed, universities which were now empty and derelict. They were all built to exactly the same plan, even to the position of the basketball court. The many Russian built villages and apartments were also built in a uniform manner. The blandness and uniformity just doesn't seem right in the Caribbean. We also saw many bridges which were built in anticipation of a road to reach them, but somewhere the money ran out and they stand forlornly as a monument to disastrous central planning. The locals laugh at them too.

And so to Varadero, which is a 20km peninsula which sticks out into the caribbean about an hour to the east of Havana. When the Cuban government decided it needed tourism it designated Varadero as an enclave where it could keep tourism under control. So much of the peninsula is covered by self contained hotels, run jointly by the government and international hotel chains. Many tourists will spend all their time on the peninsula and never see the rest of the island. In the hotels you will find Europeans, Canadians, Russians but not, of course, Americans. We were booked into the Melia which is a Spanish hotel chain on an all inclusive basis, ie food AND drinks were free. I have only had all inclusive once and the food then was execrable. However our hotel was huge and the food good and I was starting to look forward to mealtimes again. The beautiful blue sea was rough and fun and the pool cool and inviting. We spent a very lethargic 48 hours here. Don't think I could do it for more than a few days though.

Monday

As we returned to Havana we noted the communist slogans on bill boards. Here are some of the best:
"no to the blockade, unjust and criminal"
"We will never surrender in the economic battle ahead"
"The revolution is built on sacrifice of the youth"
"Socialism for ever"
"ever onwards to victory"
And our favourite:
"socialism or death"

Tuesday
Back in Havana again we made away to the Museum of the Revolution which is housed in the old president's palace, complete with bullet holes from an attack by students in 1957. The palace is quite magnificent with a wonderful staircase leading to a huge hall of mirrors. It tells the story of the revolution, from first stirrings of discontent when Batista took power with a coup in 1952, up to 1990s when it started to fall apart. It consisted of photographs, documents and artifacts with, thankfully, some text in English. It told a really fascinating story, particularly where there were photographs of places we had visited, such as the Santa Clara train attack and the Australia sugar plantation which saw action during the Bay of Pigs debacle. It was, of course, written from a Cuban revolutionary perspective and the period up to the victory was a full of heroic actions.

After the revolution in 1959 the story continued with great achievements in education and health, leading to a country today where nobody starves, everyone is educated and life expectancy is as good as any in the world and importantly for the Cubans, higher than the Americans. On the economic side they proudly listed the land taken into state ownership and the wholesale nationalisation of industries, but it was here, to my mind, where the problems began. Economically, I suspect the country would not be able to afford the health and education without outside help and money, and that, of course, came from the USSR. The story of the revolution fizzled out in the early 1990s when the Russians left and, according to locals, life was extremely difficult and the were reduced to eating all sorts of unsavoury food, even if you had money. The last room in the museum blames the USA for all sorts of things, including a plane crash which killed the national fencing team and all sorts of blight and disease which killed the crops. It struck me that is useful to have constant enemy to blame because it binds the country and stops them complaining about their own dire situation. It's wearing a bit thin now, though.

As we left the revolutionary museum, the beautiful art deco Barcardi building stopped us in our tracks. Facund Bacardi invented a new process for making rum but moved the operation to Puerto Rico. The building has a stunning interior and we felt we deserved to have an ice cream in the little cafe inside.

Leaving the Bacardi building we walked to the museum of European art. The collection is housed in an impressive building with another magnificent staircase. Air conditioned and spacious the museum holds the most incredible collection of European art including Breugal, Van Dyke, Constable, Degas and many more. There is a large collection of Greek urns and even some Roman mosaics. How did Cuba get all these great treasures? They were confiscated, of course, during the revolution of 1959. It was an amazing collection and when we were there, there were only about 5 of us in the whole building, and about 40 attendants who probably should be renamed “stalkers”.

And so the tour ended. Fascinating from beginning to end.

Final thoughts
You can't escape from the influence of the USA who have been, and still are , unreasonable and paranoid. They supported the dictator Batista even though he had come to power by staging an illegal coup. They hated Castro because he wanted to educate everyone and improve health but most of all because he was a "socialist" in their back yard. And it is so petty that they still have an embargo on this small country in dire straits. However a lot of the failure of the economy must be laid at the door of uncompromising communism. The irony is that the communism has turned just about everyone into an entrepreneur in order to survive. It will probably change though, but hopefully retaining the good aspects they have. So go and see living history if you can.

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