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Published: December 19th 2011
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Smoking room
La Casa del Habana It was our last day in Cuba before Ian had to leave and we absolutely smashed it.
In the morning it was straight to Casa del Habano, the official cigar shop of Cuba, to purchase some Cubans. Found hidden behind the Capitolio, it is attached to the still-functioning cigar factory, Real Fábrica de Tabacos Partagás, founded by Jaime Partagás in 1985. We didn’t do the tour of the factory – apparently it’s a bit rushed and expensive. Instead, we mooched around the shop, breathed in the Cedar wood aroma (the wood used to maintain the cigars at exactly the right humidity) and mulled over boxes and boxes of different sizes, strengths and tastes of cigars. From the lite Romeo & Juliets to the more famous Monte-Christoes. From bite-size Caribas, which pack a real a punch at $4 each, to jumbo Winston Churchills at $13 a pop. The guy behind the counter was an expert of course and chatted to us about qualities and strengths, histories and Fidel’s favourite cigar (Cohiba Corona Especial, until he give up smoking for health reasons in 1985). In the end we decided on some boxes of Bolivars and Partagás to take home as
our prizes and, to celebrate, we smoked our complementary factory cigars over an expresso and a chat in the smoking chairs provided.
Next we headed over to nearby Teatro America for some one-on-one salsa lessons with a couple of the dancers who work there. As soon as she told us to start with our knees together, it was obvious to everyone that we’d practiced more football than we had dancing in the last twenty four years. Saying that, it only took us ninety minutes to master the art – check out the videos if you don’t believe me – after which, we left, hips a little looser, to go pick up some more souvenirs.
Before calling it a day, there was time for a toilet break and one last hot chocolate in the Museo del Chocolate. The hot chocolate was luxurious as always, although Ian would argue that they should really have a sign on the toilet door warning you that the toilet doesn’t flush. The unlucky guy who attempted to enter five minutes later would argue that they really should have a lock on the door and I would argue that it was
the one of the funniest five minutes I’ve ever watched live.
That night, we reminisced over some cheap and cheerful bar food in the outside area of Los Marinos restaurant, opposite Plaza de San Francisco on the Malencon. This one isn’t in the book but it was just one of those little gems you stumble across now and again: cheap food and drink (restaurant food is more expensive), water views and one very friendly waitress. When we weren’t reminiscing, the only discernible sounds came from the gentle sea breeze and the occasional, content “aaahh” after one of us took a sip of beer.
Looking across the bay you could see the Fortaleza de San Carlos de la Cabana. This impregnable fort towers proudly over Havana safe in the knowledge that, since its construction in 1763, no invader has ever dared attack it. It was where Batista kept political prisoners and where, immediately after downing the Batista regime, Che Guevara set up his military headquarters and solidified the Revolution. These days the fort has been restored as a tourist attraction and every night, at 9pm, you can watch the cañonazo ceremony, where guards dressed in
full military attire, marching in perfect formation, fire a canon to mark the closing of the city gates.
It was still only 8 o’clock when we’d finished our dinner…would there be a better place to finish off the night and smoke those Monte Cristoes we’d bought especially? Probably not. So we took a Lada taxi along the Malecon, through the tunnel under the bay and up to the fort. He asked for CUC$2 each and, although it should only be $1, no one wanted to barter tonight. The guy was so happy with $4 that he even came back to pick us up later and take some pictures in driver’s seat. In the fort itself, there were too many tourists and the ceremony was really boring – as expected, really – but because we went VIP for an extra $1, we got the best view in the house. There was even a bar on hand, selling $1.50 beers. All we needed to do was to wait for the crowds to go home, stock up on beers, take our seats on the edge of the fort wall and crack out a Monte each. I forget what we talked
Monte and E
Fortress, Cigar Smoking and an Amistad Especial...definitely not gay about. I forget how long we were sat there for. But, in a non-gay way, I’ll never forget that very special moment when we called time on Cuba and our little adventure.
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