RYE RAMBLINGS ON GOING TO CUBA: A DIARY OF SORTS

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HAVANA PANORAMAS ABOVE:


1. WAITING FOR A BUS

2. TAXIS LINE-UP




WOW! I just noticed a three-prong plug in the wall outlet and thought, "Hey, that's great because I forgot my adaptor for plugs without a ground. WHAT A SHOCK! Literally. I've never experienced a 110 volt shock off of a computer before. My hand is still tingling. Electrical standards/quality are somewhat lacking in Cuba.

But this begins on leaving the University of Toronto summer residence and heading for Cuba. The last day for summer occupancy meant everyone is trying to get rid of the extra weight to pack for home. Ostensibly myself included. But my pack rat mentallity couldn't resist a bottle of rye. A bottle of rye! Imagine, someone throwing out a bottle of rye! I would leave a pair of shoes behind to make room for a bottle of rye. Plus a little gin and some exotic Italian liqueur. If I could store things somewhere I would have gathered the best of some toasters, kettles, pots, pans and unopened cans of food along with things some of which I wasn't familiar that were left behind in a pile.

DAY 1: Saturday August 25, 2013 .

I have to catch the 9:50 am WestJet flight to Santa Clara, Cuba. To get to the airport two hours before my flight via the TTC, their website told me I must catch the 06:30 bus. I'm paranoid after looking at Lonely Planet's Thorntree website. One thread went on and on about how a couple arrived at the ticket check-in which had already closed prematurely and were forced to find their own way home to Belgium from Cuba.

At Gate 36 waiting area I began inspecting the passengers to see if there was any independant traveller that either had info or could at least share a taxi once we landed. There had to be at least one old guy going back and forth to visit his "girlfriend". Nope. Half the passengers were Cubans going home. (I thought the only way you could get out of Cuba was by paddling a boat through shark infested waters to Florida??) The other half were couples/families on packaged vacations. I'm not a happy-go-lucky, carefree traveller. The more bumps in the road you experience, the more you anticipate them. This particular bump was seeded by a Lonely Planet Thorntree thread on compulsory health care coverage for people entering Cuba (as of April 2012????) and another entry on the taxi mafias working the airports. Why do I read what a bunch of old farts, who frequent Cuba but have never been anywhere else, have to say in their expert opinion. Never-the-less, the seed has been planted. On the airplane I tried talking to the girl in the seat next to me. A Cuban girl who's English is less than my Spanish (poor) has been in Kitchener with her father for 9 months to satisfy citizen ship requirements. Oh that Canadian citizenship. No success with her. She even has to ask someone to fill out a form, written in Spanish, for entry back into Cuba. But the one who filled out the form was another matter. A young Cuban lady in a very tight short white dress who spoke English well. She has a husband and three kids in Canada but visits Cuba often. This time her grand-mother is sick (some guys may have already caught on to what I'm saying). I talked to her about transport to the city. A friend was picking her up and taking her to Cienfuegos (about an hour away on the coast). She was giving him $20. Would he take $5 to drop me off in Santa Clara about 10 km away?

She thought he was already being put out enough and I didn't push it.





At customs/immigration: I hoped to appear as a charter tour visitor, like everyone else. The immigration officer looked efficient. A generation ago she would have been a soldier in Castro's revolution. "This isn't your first trip to Cuba, is it?", she asked. "Oh yes", I could honestly reply. "What hotel are you staying?" "Oh...I forget....Hotel... Santa...Mmh?" "Oh, Santa Maria" "Yes, Santa Maria". So many stories of people entering Cuba without pre-arranged accommodation being escorted to an overpriced government hotel".





After immigration there is Security to get into the country at this airport. It was more intense than getting on the airplane. They have a one belt baggage scanner with about a metre of space on the roller after passing through the scanner. So any one who put their pocket stuff into a basket paid the consequences. When the baskets are rushed through, they jam. That means the baskets overturn the contents and good luck finding them if it's within the x-ray tube. I'm sure a lot of things are gathered up at the end of the day like its Christmas for the workers.





I had asked the stewardess (ie. flight attendant, to be politically corect) to let me know if they noticed another independent traveller/backpacker so we could at least share a taxi. Taxi mafia ask $25 (again, a Thorntree professor says, "Oh, that's cheap for anywhere in the world" ) for the 11 km ride to town, whereas the average Cuban wage is $19 per MONTH! The Cuban woman with the tight white dress visiting her sick grandmother lived in Canada for 9 years with her Canadian husband and their three children, was standing behind me in money exchange. Her friend was picking he up. Some young guy in a white singlet came running to the line and she bolted off with him. But she came back and said he had agreed to take me to Santa Clara. The old car he had dropped me off at the Central Plaza. I gave him $10 and strolled off towards a big green, eye-sore hotel I saw on the plaza. "How much for a room?" "Veinte KooK" Huh? Well it's in the twenty range I'm thinking, ok I'll take it. But I asked again (this is all in Spanish) "twenty what?" Oh. But afterwards I persisted, " Twenty what?" She smiled and said "Kook". Then it hit me. CUC. Common Unit Currency, as opposed to the peso national. A CUC is a little more than a Canadian dollar. The room wasn't the best but it had a noisy old air conditioner in the window and a TV. One station on the TV had excellent western movies but no sound, only subtitles in Spanish. Breakfast buffet was included. It was one of the few all-you-can-eat buffets where I took only one small plate. Not bad food but plain. And the dining room was in the basement which looked like someones low ceiling, no window basement.





I strolled about 2 km to the bus station to find out about going to the city of Trinidad tomorrow. The daily hour long heavy downpour stranded me in a butcher shop. It was interesting to see the people handing the butcher their white plastic bags that they brought with them and him reaching into a big bucket of something to fill the bag with handfuls of ... something/meat. Plastic isn't discarded so easily as in most countries. You don't see it blowing around on the streets or being an eyesore along the highways.





That night the Parque Vidal was packed with at least a thousand people and loud music you could hear blocks away, and in my hotel which was on the parque. Most people were about 20 years old and they were all cruzin'. Everyone was dressed well, especially the girls who wore everything from short-shorts with high heals, to dresses you would wear to a wedding. The guys didn't wear second hand t-shirts with western logos, they had new clean shirts for the evening. I've never seen so much cheek-kissing. Guys-gals, gals-gals, boys-boys. It looked like a chicken farm, everyone pecking away.





The Lonely Planet, Thorntree also had a thread where it was suggested not to spend time in Santa Clara and to just pass right through. I'm glad I didn't. There are some nice casa particulars on Calle Independencia. All about $25 CUC per room. Good deal if there two of you.





DAY 2: Sunday August 25, 2013.





The tourist-catering Viazul bus cost $8 to get to Trinidad. It was full. Korean girls, a group of nine middle aged French travelling together and a lot of young backpacker couples, all European. At the Trinidad bus terminal there were hordes of people trying to bring you to a room. Most are working on commission which you end up paying, but one lady seemed to be the patron. I went with her to look at the place for $10 CUC. That's considered cheap so I agreed to buy breakfast ($3) and dinner($5) from her as well. Recently casa particulars can afford to lower the price from the $25 CUC per room because the government now charges less monthly tax but most casas just feel it's added money in their pocket instead of the government's. I took her casa and then went out to see what the town offered. Later, walking back in the pre-downfall drizzle, I noticed the taxis getting more agressive because they feel you're ripe for the pickin' with the rain coming. Some car was behind me was beeping his horn and I could see it was a taxi so I ignored him. But he got more aggressive and pulled up beside me. The lady passenger yelled that I passed my casa. Sure enough. Everybody sees you. That night I had lobster. I asked for some something spicey to put on the white rice. She happily came back with a black pepper shaker. Bring your own sauce and don't expect any vegetables.





DAY 3: Monday August 26, 2013.





My second day in Trinidad. I'm not sure what the big attraction is here. It's a small town with lots of cobblestone streets that just expanded to accommodate tourists. Many restaurants have grown hoping to stand out in sea of bland food. One thing on the to-do list is visit Playa Ancon. The bus was standing room full for foreigners. Mostly Europeans but some South Americans. Half an hour ride to a fairly pleasant beach which is dominated by a all inclusive charter hotel. The beach visitors included those from yesterdays ride from Santa Anna and included the nine French, an Irish couple, a German couple and a Swiss guy who spent most of his time in Mexico but decided to go to Cuba from Cancun for his last week before returning home. After eating on the streets in Mexico for a few months with no ill effects the Swiss guy ended up with stomach problems here in Cuba. A couple of days later I noticed the same thing and I have not had stomach problems for years of third world countries. "Pizza" salesmen walked up and down the beach. The Swiss fellow bargained the beach salesman easily from $2 CUC per pizza to two for $2 CUC then gave me one. They are almost a staple on the lunch hour menu I noticed later and sell for 5 peso national each($0.20CUC). We all passed the day together on rented beach chairs. I had fish at my casa and mixed in some sardines with mustard sauce, which I brought, into my plain rice. That night we were to meet at the Plaza Mayor which is a man-made artificial looking Plaza Central of most cities in Latin America . Unfortunately the heavy rain hour happened and disrupted everything.





DAY 4: Tuesday August 27th.





These casas particulars seem to have formed a type of network, kind of like the airlines with code-sharing. When you leave one, no matter which direction you're heading, they know someone who will meet you at the bus station to share theirs. Mirabel, my hostess of Hostal Maribel y Armando, was banging on my door insisting I come out of the shower for the phone right away . So I'm standing there dripping wet with a towel around me talking to Roger who has a casa particular in Camaguey. I thought of going to Santiago de Cuba in the south and since its a 12 hour bus ride, I mentioned I would stop half way in Camaguey. Roger spoke English (higher price) and was willing to give me a $25 CUC room for $20 CUC but I had to take it for two nights. I said I'd look at it just to get back in the shower and also not to have Mirabel call someone else or get upset when making up my bill tomorrow morning. The next morning I ate breakfast, same menu as yesterday but the bread was a day older ( they refer to a plain omellete as a tortilla) then I went to the bus station. The 8 am bus south was full. There's a couple of German guys on the waiting list ahead of me. Antonio (of Hostal Maribel y Antonio) appears to collect the key I forgot to leave behind. I change my mind and decide to go to Cienfuegos and after a few days onto Havana. Even on the bus trip I've noticed the country doesn't have the ambience of Latin America. The highways are spartan clean, the towns are non-descript, there's no garbage anywhere along the green roadside of the highways; all of which is a good thing perhaps but not sensually stimulating. I've said it before, I Am A City Rat. I'm hoping Havana will be more appealing.





In Cienfuegos, walking from the bus station and ignoring the taxi drivers and casas touts, I was walking to the main square in Cienfuegos when a lady beckoned me to her restaurant / casa. I explained immediately no dinner. She offered breakfast and room for $15CUC. OK, I'll try it. I noticed that in the places I've seen, the bathrooms are very modern/new. More so than the rest of the place. There must have been some sort of tax break to encourage people to modernize the bathroom.





Just for an aside observation. Pres Clinton signed a bill that imposes a $50,000 fine on US citizens who visit Cuba without government permission. It allows confiscating their property for Trading With The Enemy and allows $250,000 fines plus 10 years in jail. I am not criticizing US policy. I know they could be tracking this. This is only information for US citizens thinking of going to Cuba.





Another aside: At the Bank in Cuba and Cadeca: The rates are listed for buying a Peso $ CUC: Euro 1.2848 / CAD 1.0958 / USD 1.0439 This manifests itself as: 100 Euro receives $128 .48 CUC / $100 CAD receives $91.25 CUC ?? God knows how many CUC a $100 US receives because of a 10% discount penalty applied by the government.





DAY 5: Wednesday August 28th





Cienfuegos is a regular city with straight grid iron roads and not too much traffic. In a lot of countries there are people trying to intice you with drugs, women. Here everyone wants you to come to a restaurant or take their taxi. Police make sure that guys don't walk around without shirts. There is no low riding pants showing guys underwear. Everything seems pretty ordinary. Restaurants try and give you the wrong change and the bus (for one national peso, ie 4 cents) will try and keep any change. You give them five and they look at you as if, "Ok, move along. You've paid." I walked down to the tip of the peninsula, Punta Gorda. There are a couple of beaches frequented by the locals and some independant fast food outlets. At night there was a elaborate sound system set up with a screen showing music videos. No dancing, everyone watching the videos. Like a bunch of Canadians. I was hoping to bump into some expats to hear some stories. Probably in Havana.





DAY 6: Thursday August 29th.





I'll buy a bus ticket to Havana for tomorrow. The land lady at my place hasn't any business and says I can stay as long as I like. It's interesting that she has a daughter in Miami and has visited there but didn't like it. Preferred Cuba.



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Photos

Hotel Santa Clara Libre
First night in Cuba at the most colourful hotel in the city.

Lobster
Dinner at my casa particular in Trinidad

Pizza ?
Staple lunch in Cuba

Breakfast
Breakfast at casa particular in Cienfuegos