Friday 6th January 2017
The Cuban wedding. Miguel and Claudia with his family. |
Hello everyone,
Here I am, “our woman in Havana” (inspired by Graham
Greene’s novel Our Man in Havana) writing this post the morning after we
arrived on 27th December from our lovely private hotel, “RentinVedado”.
I shall be chronicling each day and
will only be able to publish it once home in Spain as internet here is
something of a luxury and difficult to obtain.
Tuesday 27th December, the day of our trip
to Cuba with Toño and Dolores, finally arrived. I wasn’t really mentally
prepared for it as it was the middle of our family Christmas but got up to
speed, packing the day before, with last minute preparations. But first Eladio
and I had an appointment in Madrid at 9 in the morning with a lawyer, yeah a
lawyer. I haven’t needed one for many years and hope I won’t for many
more. That meant we weren’t home until
11 and would have to leave the house at 1 when Suzy would drive us to the airport. It was all a bit of a rush. We boarded a big, brand new, Iberia Airbus at
4 pm and were facing a 10 hour flight across the Atlantic Ocean in very cramped
conditions.
Excited to be travelling to Havana |
Leaving Madrid |
Eladio and I hadn’t been on a long haul flight since
our trip to Israel and Jordan in 2010 and things have progressed. This airplane
had an individual multimedia touch screen monitor for each seat which impressed
me enormously. It offered many films, series, documentaries, music and the
flight path information. I watched The
Second Best Marigold Hotel and then The Impossible.
The individual multimedia screens on our plane |
Eladio mostly looked out of the window, slept or
watched the flight path and we both oohed and aahed as we flew over the Bahamas
for example. The food on board was
pretty awful and I envied those in Business Class, remembering my many
transatlantic flights with Nokia all over the world when I used to travel in
luxury. The space was very tight and
next to us was a family with a toddler and baby which cried and screamed for
most of the flight. We left at 4 in the
afternoon and would arrive at 8 in the evening in Havana which for us would be
2 in the morning. We didn’t get much sleep
and I wasn’t looking forward to the jet lag we would suffer.
Arrival was much as I expected, a bit of a chaos and
very slow. There were lots of officials,
mostly women, dressed in uniforms with miniskirts but wearing black laced
tights. They did look funny. We had been
told the wait for our luggage could be up to 3 hours. I asked one of the officials how long it
would take to which she replied I should arm myself with patience as everything
in her country, she whispered to me, was very, very slow. In the end, surprisingly, we only had to wait
an hour.
Waiting for our luggage upon arrival at the José Marti airport in Havana |
The terminal was much what I expected, a bit forlorn,
quite modern but already dirty with many things, such as the escalators, not
working and no loo paper or soap in the toilets. Soon Miguel, my nephew, arrived and we got
into a van he had hired where we loaded our luggage and 2 huge suitcases
Dolores had brought with essentials that Miguel and his Cuban wife, Claudia,
had asked for; many of the things being for their wedding on 3rd
January. I should add here that the excuse for visiting Cuba was to attend Miguel and Claudia's second wedding. You see they married first in Madrid in a simple small family celebration at a registry office and only the immediate family was present;none of Claudia's. The wedding in Havana was for all her friends and family. In between the 2 weddings Miguel and Claudia had also celebrated their marriage with a family lunch near Montrondo. For the record Eladio and I would be attending all 3.
It is about 20km from the José Marti airport to the centre and the boulevard, El Bollero, was pretty empty. There are very few cars here, mostly taxis, as the general population cannot afford to buy one. There are more of course in the centre. It was pitch black (it got dark here at 6pm) and the lighting was very dim and the streets seemed empty, even the main square, Plaza de la Revolución, with its gigantic images of Che Guevara, Cienfuegos and José Marti. The latter, whose Father was from Valencia, fought the Spaniards in the fight for independence and is a national hero. Everywhere we were to see posters publicizing the ongoing revolution such as this one with Cuba’s beloved Che Guevara. He is also a national hero and known as one of the “comandantes”.
Che Guevara |
Soon we arrived at the lovely private hotel we would
be staying at, Rent in Vedado, run by Lorenzo, a friendly enterprising Spaniard,
from Brunete in Madrid who, some years ago married a Cuban pharmacist and moved here because of
the crisis in Spain. The house he lets
is very special.
Group photo upon our arrival at our residence in Vedado |
Built in 1920, it is slightly colonial with very high
ceilings and is well equipped. The rooms are spacious, not luxurious, but very
comfortable. It feels like being in a
private house. It has its own garden and
was perfect for our stay. The staff couldn't have been more friendly or helpful and I got to know them quite well.
A shot of the garden at hour residence in Vedado. |
After settling into our room we went to bed at around
11 pm in Havana, the equivalent of 5 in the morning. It was warm, some 24c but thanks to the
ventilator, we were able to sleep. I did
so on and off and finally got up at 6.45, local time, nearly 13h in Spain. Thankfully I was to get my essential morning
coffee as the owner had arrived just as I got up. The rest slept on. The weather would be warm throughout with midday temperatures reaching nearly 30c most days, very different to the temperature in Madrid at this time of year. It was supposed to be winter in Cuba and cooler but I was told that global warming had reached here and that it was much warmer than usual for December and January.
Wednesday 28th December would be our first
full day in Havana. Like in Spain, it was
also the day of the “innocents”, the equivalent to “all fools’ day”. Who knew how it would pan out. Being our first time in Cuba with many
preconceived ideas, I was looking forward to getting to know the city a little
and how people here live. I was soon to find out the truth of Castro’s Cuba,
one of the last bastions of world communism.
Cuba, the biggest island in the Caribbean has a
population of just under 12 million people and Havana has 2.1 million
inhabitants. It is known or was known as the “pearl” of the Caribbean. When Christopher
Columbus first set foot on its shores, he described it as “the most beautiful
earth that human eyes have seen”. I tend
to agree. My facts and figures may not
be completely accurate as none of my sources are guaranteed so please take them
as approximate. It is famous for its
communist system and animosity to the US which is what it makes it so relevant
in the world. Its people are proud and
independent, welcoming but mostly impoverished as all the goods we have in the
western world are a complete luxury here.
The average monthly salary is about 30 euros per month; nearly the same
for street cleaners or doctors. No one
can live on that and thanks to a recent law where people can own businesses,
life is getting slightly better. But
only slightly. From what we learned, the
regime seems to be opening too since the accord with Obama. For instance we were told that just a few
years ago a Cuban could be imprisoned just for talking to tourists. Thankfully today that is no longer a crime. The
way of life is frustrating, nothing works, the word “efficiency” is unknown and
corruption is rife. On the plus side,
the climate is incredible with sun all year round, the people are kind and all
seem to be in a permanent good mood. I
am told one way of making the people happy is to provide them with endless
amounts of cheap rum and cigarettes. And
thus they don’t complain. People try to rip you off in the tourist areas but
that is to be understood. Also they are
all very well educated and I am told the health system works well. Cuba I think is probably one of the safest Latin
American countries. There is little violence here and robberies are apparently
few and far between. I found the people
very hospitable, going out of their way to help a tourist in distress. We were
to experience that on many occasions as you will hear later. The revolution I
am also told is ongoing to preserve what communism has achieved, a good
education and health system.
Unfortunately it has not achieved much else. The regime’s hatred of capitalism is in
evidence because of the sheer lack of global brands such as McDonalds. I, for one, am happy to be in a country
without one. There are hardly any advertising billboards which for me was a
relief. In their place there are plenty of billboards with communist slogans
which are a site in themselves.
Political signs and slogans everywhere instead of global brand billboards |
This one was of Fidel Castro. He may have died but his presence is felt everywhere, on posters and in people's minds, thoughts and hearts.
In our privately owned residence, our haven of the new
capitalism, that morning we all had breakfast together. I had hoped for lots of
fruit but was to learn that there is not much on offer surprisingly or only
that which is in season.
Breakfast at "Rent in Vedado" |
Thankfully there was some toast and butter. I decided to buy some fruit that day but it
turned out to be nearly impossible. The only fruit available at the dismal
fruit and veg markets were over ripe bananas, tasteless water melon, over
ripe papaya and a strange and not very nice tasting fruit called
“guayara”. The small bananas called
apple bananas (plátano manzana) turned out to be delicious. You would think
with the climate here, fruit in Cuba would be like in Mexico, spectacular, but
no it was very disappointing. Fruit doesn’t grow much here due to a measure by
Fidel Castro years ago when he wanted to double the production of sugar
cane. Land for fruit was sacrificed as
one of the measures. However, Castro’s
equivalent of the sugar cane five year leap proved to be a failure so today
sugar is declining and there is hardly any fruit to be found. What a pity!
Miguel came to pick us up in the morning in a 1949
American gas guzzler taxi with no seat belts and falling apart like most of
these cars left behind from Batiste’s dazzling days when Havana was the centre
of the world. They are a sight to see
and much photographed. I heard later
that many of the engines have been replaced with new ones but the chassis, etc,
are totally dilapidated. That’s not true of all of them as some are very well
kept.
Miguel getting into the taxi on our first day |
But the taxi was fun to ride in. The driver played
loud Cuban music and set us in the mood for the day. It’s pointless criticizing everything here
because there is nothing you can change.
Eladio likens Havana to Aleppo, as so much of it is destroyed, rotting
and decaying but that’s how it is and either you take it or you leave it. I decided to “take” it.
Miguel and his parents, Dolores and Toño in the back of the first old taxi we took |
Our destination was Miguel’s academy where they give music classes to tourists, mostly from the USA. We were supposed to drive through some of the
main squares and streets of Havana, like the Plaza de la Revolución, but most
were closed as it turned out there were rehearsals on for a huge military
parade to take place on 2nd January.
Private people here do not have cars as there is no
way they can afford them on salaries of 30 euros a month. But there are many vehicles mostly for the
tourist trade which is what Cuba lives on.
The most attractive for tourists are the old classic
American cars from the 40s and 50s. They
are in abundance here and much photographed.
The story goes that the Chevrolet models were owned by the middle class
and the Dodges or Cadillacs by the rich.
Many of their owners left when Fidel Castro came to power and the
government confiscated them and then resold them to people who could afford
them. Those who had one and didn’t leave kept the car in the family. When the
American blockade came into force, Cuba was unable to import cars and those
that they have imported; mostly cars for tourists to hire, are sold at
extortionate prices. We loved them as
most tourists do too. They are
attractive to look at but are highly contaminating and the fumes they give off
make it difficult to breathe.
Me having a photo taken by one of the classic American cars left in Cuba |
Getting into a red vintage car which are the main attraction in Cuba |
The academy is small but very vibrant and each class
was full. From there we drove to the old
centre of the city and here we had a great guide in “Pepo” (real name Eadberto)
who is Miguel’s right hand man in the running of his business. Pepo was the leader of the University
Students Union and is a professor of contemporary history. We learned from him that 37% of the
population is black, like he is and that they come originally from Africa, being brought here as slaves by the Spaniards. The rest are all descendants of Spaniards,
mostly from Galicia and the Canary Islands.
Today anyone who can prove their parents or grandparents were Spanish
immigrants can claim Spanish nationality.
However, for many a passport from Spain is pretty useless as they cannot
afford the flights. At the end of the 19th century Spain owned Cuba
but didn’t give enough rights to the population, although they mixed with them,
unlike the British in India for example.
Spain owned Cuba from the late 16th century. So there was a
war for independence, led by the country’s main hero, José Martí, whose father
was actually Spanish from Valencia. He is even more loved than old Fidel. Everyone pointed out that the war in 1898 was
not against the Spanish people but against the Spanish government. Spain’s
heritage is evidenced here everywhere and Cubans refer to Spain as their Mother
country; “la madre patria”.
The José Marti statue at Parque Central |
Our destination was a cultural building built during
the times of the colonialization by the Spaniards, like most old buildings in
Havana. Casa Gaia, an imposing building with the highest door and ceilings I
have ever seen is where Claudia works as an actress and dancer and which Miguel
uses for big groups of pupils who want classes in Cuban dance and music. The group coming was from the Harvard
University Alumni association but first we got a private class in “minor
percussion” using local instruments such as the “clave”, the “wiro” and of
course maracas which needed no introduction.
Our lesson in minor percussion Cuban instruments |
It was fun to try them out. The group arrived and the class was superb,
thanks to Miguel’s excellent team of musicians and teachers. Soon they created
a wonderful atmosphere and after learning about the instruments and different
types of Cuban music such as bolero, danzón, chachacha, Cuban son, rumba and
timba, the tutors got the whole group of about 40 people to perform a concert
themselves.
The group of Americans receiving a class in Cuban music |
I was very
impressed.
We watched from the back of the class and I just had
to have this photo of Eladio, Toño and Dolores sitting in front of the flag of
Cuba which is omnipresent in this country.
Dolores, Toño and Eladio sitting with the Cuban flag behind them at Casa Gaia |
From Casa Gaia, we took another old American car and
drove to the historic centre of Havana.
Here we saw that the beautiful old Spanish buildings were in a better
condition than in other parts. There was
lots of refurbishment going on and Miguel told me it was coming from foreign
capital mostly. We got out at the beautiful “Plaza Vieja” and walked around in
the sun feeling like real tourists.
The Plaza Vieja |
From there we walked through the colourful streets to
the Plaza de San Francisco where we could spy the sea or the sea front which is
called El Malecón and which we had yet to see properly.
The Plaza San Francisco or Plaza de las Palomas as it is also known. |
It was in this square where slaves would be auctioned
as they arrived from Africa in the 16th century. Most of their
descendants make up the black population in Cuba. Slavery was abolished when
Cuba gained its independence in 1898. In the imposing building in this square, La
Lonja, Miguel has an office as does the Spanish Embassy. Then we walked to the Plaza de Las
Armas. On our way we were hassled by
locals, out for our money, like these two guitar players. Eladio had to pay them 1 euro for the picture
although they asked for 20 haha.
Photo with the guitar players on our first day visiting the historic centre of Havana |
My next “paid for photo” was with 2 dachshunds dressed
in Santa Claus hats, hahaha. It’s funny
but it doesn’t feel like Christmas here. The dogs were lovely but rather dirty
and I suspected the one I held was drugged as it hardly moved in my arms. If it had been Pippa she would have barked
like mad.
Another paid for photos, this one with dachshunds dressed in Christmas gear hahaha |
Our walk then took us to the Cathedral Square built in
the 18th century in the Cuban baroque style and which we found
beautiful. It was funny to see a large
Christmas crib next to it in the square as it just didn’t feel like Christmas.
Photo with Claudia in the Plaza de las Armas |
Me by the Cathedral |
For lunch we were in for a very local treat. Instead
of going to a restaurant like other tourists –
from what I can see, only non-Cubans can afford them - Miguel took us to a private house, run by a
picturesque old lady called Fabiola, who was to cook for us in her own
house. We were served very Cuban food
which I am not fond of, rice and “frejoles” (black beans) but thankfully there
was some stewed lamb and tomatoes and cucumber.
Also on offer was fried sweet potato and fried banana called “tostones” which
I hesitated to eat because of the enormous amount of calories they would have.
A lunch of Cuban fare on our first day. Casa Fabiola |
We paid a paltry price of about 5 euros per
person.
As we went out I spied a typical bicycle taxi which I
would have loved to ride in. The vehicle
reminded me of India as many things do. The main difference is that there are
no cows or goats in the street. Otherwise Cuba seems nearly as poor, the
streets nearly as ruined and dirty. However the Cubans are very clean
themselves.
One of the many taxi bikes |
By the bike there was a food market and we went in to
have a look at how Cubans buy their food. I should add that under this communist
regime, people are given coupons for the basics but that anything else has to
be paid for at extortionate prices. The
food from the coupons only lasts them 10 days though. There were only eggs and
chicken for sale and not much more. The
market was pretty awful and I felt so privileged with the wonderful
supermarkets we can go to in Europe and, which if Cubans saw would realise what
a rip off their regime is.
Eggs on sale at a local market in the centre. There may be shortages of lots of things but eggs were in abundance |
From the market we walked towards the Parque Central. On our way we enjoyed the atmosphere and
spectacles created by street sellers and beggars such as the woman in the
picture below. If you look closely you will see she has a cat in a pram haha.
The woman with the cat in a pram |
There are lots of stray dogs and cats here and they
all look emaciated. The Cubans, though, are generally rather fat and I suppose
that is because of their diet of rice, beans and fried bananas!
To get back to our hotel, we took a shared taxi,
called an “almedrón” or “colectivo” which seems to be the main public transport
here after the very old buses “guaguas”. Our ride cost approx. 40 euro cents each.
Once back in “Vedado” where we staying we exchanged euros for “cucs” and Cuban
pesos. I have still to understand why
there are two types of currency here. It
seems strange and no one is really able to explain it. One cuc is the equivalent to 24 pesos or 1
euro. I Cuban peso is about 4 or 5 euro cents.
While the men stayed at “home, Dolores, Claudia and
Laura, walked to a Cuban friend’s house which was supposedly nearby but the
walk seemed long. We needed and wanted
to connect to internet there hahah. On our way we visited another market in the
hope of buying fruit. As I said earlier there was little on offer.
The fruit and vegetable market |
It was wonderful to finally have some internet and be
able to send whatsapps to the girls at home. They had been worried at no news
from us. Later we were joined by Toño and Eladio and then walked home. I was told,
as we were leaving that nearly every block of flats here has a sort of
government warden who spies on all the neighbours, just as there were in the
old USSR. We also heard from the owner
of our small hotel that after Fidel Castro died, all the inhabitants were
obliged to sign a declaration of loyalty to the regime. Yes this is still a communist country. However, according to one man we spoke to in
the street the next day, he confided that the majority of people here are
anti-Castro and are waiting for Raúl to die and that only then can real change
come. Yes it is communist as I said
before but it is a different sort to that in the old USSR, China or North
Korea. It is a Latin American Caribbean
communism which I suppose helps as people are more relaxed and also smilingly
resigned to how the country is run. I
don’t think I could live here for more than about a month although Havana is
charming and enticing if you are a tourist.
Time seems to have stood still here since the
Americans left. Children still play in the street as they have no computers or
game consoles. You see them playing
football in on the pavements, although the national sport as I said is baseball
which the Cubans call “pelota”. Football might not be big here but everyone
seems to be a fan of either Real Madrid or Barcelona hahahaha.
Once back at our house, I was in much need of a shower
and change of clothes as I felt so dirty after walking all day. Havana is filthy I should add. I hear it is only cleaned when it rains and
this is not the rainy season.
We went to a recommended tourist restaurant that night
called “Idilio”. However we had to wait ages for a table and then ages for our
food. The food was very disappointing. I
had lobster which tasted like rubber.
Just as we were finishing, Marta, my niece and her husband, Ministro had
arrived – many people were coming from Spain for Miguel and Claudia’s wedding.
They were just as shattered as we had been the night before when we
arrived. We all went to bed early after
having sprayed our rooms with insect repellent. We had been told there were all
sorts of nasty mosquitos. Hopefully it
would work as mosquitos seem to love my white skin.
On Thursday I was up at 6.30 and had to make do with
decaf tea I had brought as the coffee wasn’t ready. After breakfast we got
ready to go out into town again. And
here we are, all ready to go, Eladio and I in the lovely garden of our house.
Ready to go out one morning. Posing in the garden of our lovely residence |
The 4 of us set off for a long walk into town at just
after 9.30 which would take us 1.5h along the famous Malecón seafront. I just have to show you the pavements we walked
along, full of pitfalls, holes and cracks.
This is what most of the pavements looked like |
I mentioned the wonderful old colonial houses, many of
them once belonging to affluent Cubans who left when Fidel came to power. Some have been restored but many are
crumbling like this one. It is such a
pity.
One of the many many crumbling houses |
Walking along the famous Avda de los Presidentes we
got to the Malecón which is breathtaking although the promenade pavement is
mostly ruined.
Eladio and I on the famous Malecón sea front |
The famous Malecon promenade |
Dolores, Eladio and Toño by the Malecon |
The menacing bird and Eladio by the Malecon |
There were signs for no fishing or bathing but both
were going on quite a lot. It would be
difficult to bathe as there is no beach or any steps to get down to the rocks,
but lots of young boys managed to climb down.
The signs on the Malecon which said no fishing or bathing and which no notice were taken of |
Exhausted and hot from the sun, we finally got to the
centre. Not sure which road to take we ended up on the beautiful Paseo del
Pardo with its amazing colonial houses.
Unfortunately many of them were crumbling like the one in the photo
below. Many street names like the Paseo del Prado are the same as those in
Madrid. The influence Spain had on Cuba
was in evidence everywhere.
One of the crumbling houses on the Paseo del Prado |
Thankfully the Paseo del Prado was tree lined and we
got some shade.
The Paseo del Prado |
We reached the Parque Central next to the Capitol
building, a replica of the one in Washington.
Remembering our walk the day before, I led my fellow walkers towards the
main street of old Havana, Calle Obispo.
Here we stopped at a decent looking bar for a rest, a visit to the loo
(they are awful) and a drink.
A bar we went to on the famous Calle Obispo |
Outside a man was selling coconut water and I just had
to taste it.
The man selling coconut water on the Calle Obispo |
He had a pile of fresh coconuts and chopped mine to
put a straw in it for me to drink. Now that’s something you don’t see in the
first world.
Drinking delicious coconut water |
We left the men to rest at the bar and went to visit a
nearby souvenir market we had spied. Olivia had told me there was nothing to
buy in Cuba except cigars but there was lovely colourful jewelry on sale and I
bought a wooden necklace and bracelet for 3 cucs (3 euros) which I would wear
throughout my visit as the string on my pearls had broken.
It was on the Obispo street that we went into the
famous old chemist shop, Johnson, and the famous hotel called La Florida, not to be
confused with Hemingway’s bar La Floridita. It was a beautifully conserved building that
reminded me of Andalusian palaces with their big interior patios.
It was also on the Obispo street that we had an interesting
conversation with the Cuban waiter I mentioned above, the one who said everyone
was waiting for Raul Castro to die. We
asked him how he and his fellow Cubans could bear the regime with its shortages
and he told us how most people pirate a connection to tv from abroad adding
that in Cuba there were only 3 channels, Fidel 1, Fidel 2 and Fidel 3 which had
us in stitches. He asked us whether we
knew the drink “Cuba Libre” which means in English “Free Cuba” which he said
was a lie as there is no freedom whatsoever. Funnily enough our next
destination was the Hotel Cuba Libre which houses the Real Madrid Football Fan
club here and where we would be picked up by Miguel. In the reception I was able to use my
internet card for a minute or two to send photos and messages to the girls.
From the Cuba Libre hotel we walked to the restaurant
where we were all to have lunch. It is called Lola K and is opposite Miguel and
Claudia’s house in the Vedado district.
It is run by a Catalán woman called Lola and I have to say we had the
best service and food since our arrival.
We just loved the place. Lola would be providing the catering for the
wedding so we were guaranteed good quality and service.
Lola's lovely restaurant "Lola K" in Vedado |
After lunch we migrated to our Cuban friend’s flat for
a bit more internet connection, pirated too by the way hahah. We then walked home on the cracked pavements
where you have to look at the ground the whole time if you don’t want to fall.
Poor José Antonio had fallen earlier flat on his face after hitting an unseen
obstacle on the pavement.
We spent the afternoon chilling out in the garden
whilst Marta and Ministro slept to get over their jet lag. We were waiting for a nail beautician to
arrive to do our nails for 1 cuc each but she came so late I did my own. However she did do Laura’s and Marta’s as you
can see in the photo below. What a luxury, if only she had been punctual. But punctuality is something unheard of here.
My niece Marta having her nails done for 1 cuc (1 euro) at our residence |
Miguel had booked a table for the 4 of us that night
at a recommended Italian restaurant in the rich area called Miramar. The waiter we spoke to in the Obispo street
said that is where the people live who have access to things normal Cubans do
not. So you see communism is as it is everywhere. Those running the system have
everything whilst the normal population has nothing. It reminds me of the famous phrase in George
Orwell’s Animal Farm when describing the pigs: “All are equal but some are more
equal than others”. That is a very apt description of how things are here.
It was impossible to call a taxi so Miguel got his
father-in-law, Juan to take us to the restaurant. He has a classic car too.
There are no luxury cars here, no BMWs, Mercedes, etc but I did spy one Audi in
the Miramar district. A table was booked
for us at the highly recommendable La Carboncita and although we weren’t hungry
we enjoyed half a pizza each. Pizzas in Cuba are very tasty we would find.
La Carboncita restaurant in the dark at night |
Hailing an “almendrón” taxi going back was something
of an adventure as they were few and far between and people were jumping the
queue. In the end we found a normal taxi
and haggled the tariff down from 15 to 5 cucs.
It was difficult to tell the driver where to take us as the streets here
are run on an alphabetic and numeric system a bit like the American one. Ours
was on street “E” in between numbers 13 and 15.
There are no name signs on the streets as there are in most parts of the
world and to see them you have to look for an engraved stone on the ground
which is very confusing. The big avenues do have names though, such as Avda de
los Presidentes. The most impressive one
is Havana’s 5th Avenue full of security posts and traffic
lights. There are very few traffic
lights or zebra crossings and you often have to risk your life crossing the big
avenues. I should add that the old cars do not have seat belts either, another
potential risk.
The unusual street signs which are to be found on the pavements |
Once “home” we all had a cup of tea made of some herbs
which were supposed to help you sleep. Well they didn’t as I was awake at 2, 4
and 5 in the morning and finally got up at 6.
On Friday I was up early again. This time I did get my
early morning cup of coffee . After writing my blog I had breakfast with the
others. Our plan was to go straight
afterwards to exchange more euros for cucs.
However we had to wait to leave as there was a sudden and short
torrential shower. We couldn’t believe our eyes as we saw the streets being
slowly flooded.
Ministro and Marta waiting for the rain to stop |
The rain brought cooler temperatures
which was a pity as the day on the beach ahead of us would be affected. Going
in search of an exchange kiosk was something of an adventure too. There are lots of queues but we were lucky to
be there early and didn’t have to wait too long.
Queuing to exchange money |
We had to exchange quite a lot of our euros as that day
we had to pay the hotel owner for our stay.
He later told us it was the norm here to pay upon arrival, not when you
leave which is how it works in the rest of the world. Cuba is different even in
this aspect.
That day Miguel had planned activities for the whole
group. By then we were 16 as the night before a group of his school friends had
arrived with their wives. To my joy our
transport was to be in 3 classic cars. When they arrived, Marta and I took the
opportunity to take a photo with the drivers which was a lot of fun as you can
see in the photo below. If you want a
laugh please look closely at the t-shirt, one of them was wearing, the driver
Miguel calls “Javier el loco” hahaha.
Marta and I with 2 of our drivers |
We drove in procession to the old town near the port
past the Malecón. Here we disembarked
and walked towards the Plaza Vieja. In
this square our husbands, Eladio and Ministro, were assaulted by a group of
omnipresent colourful mulata women who you could pose for a photo at 5 cucs
each. That’s 5 euros and a robbery but I thought the picture below was worth
paying that money for. Don’t you?
Eladio and Ministro being kissed by some of the colourful mulata women in the Plaza Vieja |
The women left a red lip kiss mark on their cheeks
which Eladio instantly removed and I would have kept as a souvenir for the day.
There was a salsa dance class arranged for the group
at Casa Gaia. Below are some of our
group dancing.
The lesson in salsa for Miguel's friends and family |
As Eladio and I are terrible dancers with no rhythm
whatsoever, we passed on the class and decided to spend the hour we had free,
walking around the Plaza Vieja. Here we sat at a table at the famous El
Escorial café and took the opportunity to take photos of the lovely statue of a
woman sitting on a hen with a fork in her hands, who is supposed to be
defending her family.
By the woman on the hen statue in the Plaza Vieja |
We then decided to take a short tour of the city on
one of the numerous bicycle taxis at 15 cucs an hour, but we only used it for
30 minutes as we didn’t have much time.
Eladio with our bike taxi driver |
Our driver called Hirley (funny name right?) took us
to see some of the main monuments, including the Capitol building we had not
seen properly. He told us it was soon to
be the Congress.
The Havana Capitolio, a replica of the Capitol in Washington |
I didn’t know it but the real government headquarters
is in the rich Miramar district or so our bike taxi driver told us. Hirley showed us many other buildings such as
the Museum of the Revolution , the beautiful Seville hotel, Hemingway’s bar, La
Bodeguita del Medio where they serve the typical mojito cocktail, the main
theatre and other well-known palaces and buildings including the imposing
Spanish Embassy at the foot of the Malecón promenade.
Soon our half hour was up and it was time to join the
group for the main activity of the day.
We were going to the beach, one called Santa María, some 20km from
Havana in the direction of Varadero. It
was not a day for the beach but thankfully the sun would make its appearance
later. We installed ourselves under palm
sun shades on the white sandy beach but on terribly rickety and dirty sun beds
which we had to pay 2 cucs for each.
Our group on the beach at Santa Marta |
The cousins on the beach, Miguel and Marta |
The beach was lovely but not particularly clean as I
suppose is typical here. The water was
blue and I heard later that from these beaches which are some 90km (not sure
this figure is right) to Florida, many Cubans have escaped to the US on rafts
and makeshift boats.
The beach at Santa Marta with its makeshift red flag |
The sea was rough and the red flag was flying. It was also a bit cold so hardly anyone went
in the water. However when the sun came
out, the first person to go in was Ministro, Marta’s sporty husband. I followed suit. But first I had to find
somewhere to change into my Marks and Spencer bathing costume. I did so under a group of coconut palm trees
and in a hurry too, lest one of them fell on my head whilst changing.
Thankfully none of them did although there were plenty on the ground. The water
was warm but the sea so choppy and the waves so big it was impossible to
swim. Once dried with one of the hotel
towels I had sneaked out, we went for a long walk on the beach where we had to
be careful to navigate around the jelly fish. At around 5 our vintage cars came to drive us
home. We drove past the Malecón
promenade and were amazed to see the huge waves crashing over the stone wall
and wetting us. I was the one who bore
the brunt of it as the window on my side wouldn’t wind down hahah.
We came back to take a luxurious shower and soon were
ready to go out. Dinner that night was a
formal affair for the whole group, hosted by Miguel and Claudia at guess where?
Yep, Lola K, across the road from their flat.
Lola had everything prepared in her huge kitchen but I
what I was most interested in was not the food but her tiny 3 month old
miniature Fox Terrier, Lian, which was snuggled in a box in a corner of the
kitchen. I just adored the puppy and
spent a lot of the night getting up from the table to go and see it. Here I am
holding the delightful creature. I
wonder what Pippa would have thought hahaha.
Me with Lola's toy fox terrier puppy |
We sat down to a beautifully laid table which would
soon be full of mostly Spanish delicacies such as tortilla, patatas bravas, etc
as well as Cuban food with the proverbial fried bananas I do not like.
Claudia and Miguel at the table of Lola's lovely restaurant where we all had dinner one night |
Dinner at Lola K's |
We couldn’t believe it when after all the tapa like
dishes we were served a huge plate of roast pork and yucca which is like
potato. We were far too full and there
was lots left over.
Thank goodness we were able to work some of it off on
our 20 minute walk back to the hotel.
It’s impossible to follow my Pronokal diet here and I dread the scales
when I get back.
Walking back along cracked and broken pavements in
complete darkness was quite hazardous and again a bit of an adventure. We were shattered by the end of the day and
hit the pillow as soon as we were back.
Saturday came and it was New Year’s Eve which we would
be celebrating at Lorenzo’s house, our hotel with all of Miguel’s group and
friends.
We had a free morning and decided to ride on one of
the newly operated open top tourist buses, a sight I was not glad to see in
Havana. Normally I wouldn’t be seen dead on one, but it was the only way we
could see the whole of the city. For 10
euros a head we went on the one hour and 40 minute ride. The views were good but we couldn’t hear a
word the guide said as the sound system was appalling. Perhaps the most
interesting sight we saw was the famous Plaza de la Revolución which we had
only seen at night.
The famous Plaza de la Revolución |
We got off at a place we now know very well, Parque
Central. Here we went to have a coffee
and a quick dose of slow internet at the imposing Hotel de Inglaterra. By then it was lunch time and we had no plans
or reservations. Instead of staying in
the centre we headed back on the slow bus to the area we are staying in, El
Vedado. We had a half hour wait on the
bus itself due to the total lack of efficiency.
Watching the driver Orlando and the nice woman guide getting ready to go
was a show in itself. They were a
picture of the lack of efficiency here and we all got rather frustrated. In the end we could only laugh at the
situation. You see, as I said before, everything is really slow here and either
you take it or you leave it hahaha.
Once in Vedado we tried to find somewhere to have
lunch. We made the totally wrong choice by going to a restaurant called Porto Habana housed on the 11th floor of one of the very few high rise
buildings. The only thing good about it
were the views of the Malecón promenade and city.
The view from the Porto Habana restaurant, the only good thing about it |
The expensive lobster was tough, tasteless and
inedible and I declined to eat it. In
lieu of the ghastly lump of thick, white and rubbery seafood, I ordered what
was called on the menu “filet mignon”.
It turned out to be another lump of inedible meat. I had asked for it to be underdone and
grilled and with a small salad. It took
the inefficient restaurant more than an hour to prepare it and when it came I
took one look and sent it back to the kitchen.
It was tough, sitting on a bed of cheese (I hate cheese) and swimming in
oil. In Cuba I heard, beef is virtually unknown and usually very tough so maybe
I shouldn’t have asked for it. The bill came to over 100 euros which is
incredibly expensive for here so I left the worst restaurant I had ever been
in, on an empty stomach and 100 euros poorer.
Our next appointment of the day was one we were all
looking forward to. We were going to
have coffee at Toño and Eladio’s cousin Roche’s house where we to meet his
daughter Lecinia, a dentist, and his wife who is unfortunately immobile and in
a vegetative state and unable to communicate.
However, her daughter and husband swear she can hear and knows what’s
going on. Roche is the son of Constante, Eladio and Toño’s grandmother,
Lecinia’s brother who left Montrondo for Cuba in 1920 never to return. However,
as you may have read in my blog, this summer his dream came true and he flew to
Spain to see his Father’s beloved village and meet our family. The six of us,
Toño, Dolores, Marta, Ministro, Eladio and I left our residence in search of a
taxi for 6 to take us to the far away neighbourhood of El Cerro. So far, so good, we hailed a big classic car
in the nearby Avda de los Presidentes. The taxi driver had no idea how to get
there and frequently stopped to ask people the way. Finallly we found our family’s humble
house. Worried we would not find a taxi
to get back later, we agreed with the driver to pick us up from Roche’s house
at 6.30pm. We were to learn later, once
again, that Cubans don’t always stick to their word hahaha.
On our way we were to see sights tourists don’t
usually get to see, more crumbling and dilapidated houses which were once
beautiful and lived in by rich owners but now inhabited by numerous families
unable to restore them. Roche’s house
was small but obviously a luxury to live in and unaffordable to most Cubans.
However, as he had been one of Castro’s fighters and supporters of the
revolution he is well looked after by the regime and the house was a gift from
the state. It was very humble in my
eyes. In the lounge, overlooking
everything was a portrait of our family’s hero, Fidel Castro. The family are staunch supporters of the
regime and our conversation with them was extremely interesting.
Eladio with Roche and Toño |
Roche welcomed us with open arms and told Eladio that
he got to love us all during his visit to Spain. We had got to love him too. He is a gentle
and kind man. But it was his older daughter
Lecinia who captured our heart. She was
named after Eladio’s and Roche’s grandmother and according to my husband looked
just like her. She reminded me of my
sister-in-law, Pili. She dedicates her
whole life to her parents, working as a dentist in the morning and then taking
care of her mother all of the time. I felt so sorry for her. She is resigned to it and told me that she
had already lived her life and that it was her obligation now to care for her
parents. That sort of dedication you
don’t often find in the “first world”. We invited her to the New Year’s Eve
party at our residence but she couldn’t go as she couldn’t leave her mother
alone for more than 10 or 15 minutes.
All I could do was admire and feel sorry for her.
Me with Roche and his daughter Lecinia |
At 6.30 we stepped out into the street hoping our taxi
would arrive but it never made an appearance. That’s when our odyssey
began. We were far away from any taxi
route, it was dark and New Year’s Eve and we didn’t know how to find one.
Thankfully Roche guided us to a main road some 2km away, walking slowly with
his stick and we arrived at a big crossroad called Mónaco. Here many people were waiting for taxis and
few appeared. We needed a taxi for 6 and
it seemed to be mission impossible. A young
Cuban man tried to help us and help us he did.
He finally hailed down a shared taxi which was a very old army jeep and
supposedly illegal. It was nearly full
but agreed to come back for us when it had dropped off the riders further
on. In order to make sure it came back,
Ministro and I jumped in and joined the passengers in the dark and dingy old
vehicle. It was one of those hilarious
moments when all we could do was laugh.
On the ride we saw people in the street roasting a whole pig! Thankfully the driver was true to his word
and once he had dropped off the rest of the passengers he did indeed drive back
to the Mónaco square to pick up the rest of our party. All we could do on our drive back in the
priceless vehicle was laugh.
In the hilarious ride in the illegal old jeep taxi back from El Cerro on New Year's Eve |
Once back in Vedado, the party at our residence had
started with lots of mojitos and loud live Cuban music. I quickly showered and dressed and put make
up on for the first time. It was a long
wait until midnight and I was tired but determined to stay awake until the New
Year. The food was provided by the
residence cook and it was to be a barbecue.
I was so hungry after the dreadful lunch I found the pork chops and rice
with beans delicious. It was funny to be spending New Year’s Eve in Cuba. When we were starting to celebrate it was
already New Year’s Day in Europe and we had no means of connecting with our
daughters to wish them a Happy New Year.
But we were not alone as we had part of our family there, Toño, Miguel,
Dolores, Mara and Ministro. And here we are enjoying the dinner at the party.
Dinner on New Year's Eve |
When midnight came it was announced by the band and we
all drank cider to toast in the New Year. Shortly afterwards Eladio and I made
a discreet escape to our bedroom to go to sleep which was not easy with the
noise of the music in the background.
New Year’s Day was a holiday in Cuba but because of
the revolution we were told, although everyone here celebrates the New Year. We
went to our Cuban friends to connect to internet. On this subject, let me tell you how internet
works or doesn’t work here. There are
wifi zones, mostly at the big hotels, and this is where you have to have an internet
card which costs between 2 and 4 cucs each and lasts an hour. It has a user name and code to connect. You generally know where the wifi zones are because of the gathering of people glued to their phones like the one in the photo below.
An obvious wifi zone |
People have mobile phones here but without
data. That must mean that there is cellular infrastructure but without
data. It’s all because the government
controls telephony and internet. Cuba really is behind the rest of the world
when it comes to mobile telephony. I was
told that each phone call costs 1 dollar!! This must be the most expensive
mobile phone system in the world. I hope
that one day the wifi card system will be replaced by cheaper mobile data.
After reading our New Year’s Eve messages we set off
for a walk again. On our way into town
we decided to visit the imposing Hotel Nacional built in 1930 and which seems
to be a national reference. It is in fact one of the main national monuments in Havana.
The Hotel Nacional - a national monument |
It commands amazing views of the Malecón and there is
an exhibition of the 1962 missile crisis.
It’s an amazing place.
From there we were to walk into town along the
promenade but it was so hot we decided to take a taxi. It was not a good day to find one because it
was a holiday. Finally we did and jumped into it with a young Ethiopian called
Faisal who had come all the way from Germany to visit the newly open Muslim
centre. Each to their own, I thought
hahaah.
Once again we arrived at the Parque Central square and
started walking along the old streets looking for a restaurant for lunch. This time we were in luck and had a decent
meal at a restaurant called La Imprenta.
La Imprenta restaurant in the old town where we had lunch one day |
We had to be back at our hotel shortly afterwards to
be ready again to go out at 3.30 for the main activity of Miguel’s wedding
group – a guided tour of the old city by Pepo, his right hand man who, as you
will have read is a teacher of history and in my mind a walking encyclopedia.
Getting a taxi was once again a struggle but we made
it to the Plaza de la Catedral just on time.
We couldn’t have found a better guide in Pepo who not
only showed us the main monuments but gave us a wonderful lesson in the history
of Cuba. I had no idea for example that the British had governed Cuba for one
year at the end of the 19th century and that after the year the
Spanish exchanged Florida for Cuba and returned to power. Not for long though.
A guided tour with Pepo for Miguel's group of friends and family |
After it was dark we parted from the younger members
of the group who were off to La Fábrica a sort of discotheque, and went in
search of dinner. Finding somewhere decent to eat is difficult here as is
finding a taxi. In the end we had a
lousy meal at the Hotel Sevilla where I found my internet card had run out and
there was nowhere to buy another.
The taxi we found to take us back was the dirtiest and
oldest I had ever seen. It took some finding as all public transport had been
suspended due to the preparations for the military parade the next day. I was
told it was to celebrate the arrival of Fidel Castro in Habana 59 years ago. The
worst thing about the car if you can call it that were the petrol fumes
invading its interior. We could hardly breathe. I wondered at the state of the
lungs of its driver, poor man.
Once back at our residence, Rafa, the night warden,
had arrived. He always sits outside in
the garden throughout the night as does Pablo the man he takes turns with. Their shifts are from 7 in the evening until
7 in the morning. Rafa is a young teacher of computer studies. He told me that as a teacher he earned 16
cucs a month! However as a hotel guard or
warden he is paid 120, considered an excellent wage here. The owner of Rent In Vedado pays all his
staff the same wage and even gives them a paid holiday, something unheard of
in Cuba. No wonder they are a happy bunch
of people. Rafa has no car and has to use public transport, the guagua
buses. However the next day, 2nd
January, the day of the armed forces, they would not be circulating and he told
me he would have to walk home, some 15km!
I felt so sorry for him. I asked
him why people didn’t use bicycles here as a cheaper way of transport but they
apparently cost some 900 euros each, so again are unaffordable. Oh this way of life so frustrates me.
Exhausted again after another long day, we went to be bed at 9. We
had to be up early the next day as Miguel had organised an excursion to Viñales
for the whole group which is a 3.5 hour drive from Havana.
We were all up early and the cars, 5 almendrones, were
here to transport our group on our trip to Viñales, a tobacco area in the
countryside. Viñales near Pinar del Rio
and on the “tobacco route” is only some 140km away. I asked why we couldn’t take a train which I
thought would be faster. I learned there
were none. It seems there are trains,
especially to Santiago de Cuba but it takes 8 or more hours to get there. The railway line in existence was built by
the Spaniards to transport the sugar cane but seems not to have been developed
since. On the subject of sugar cane, it
is one of Cuba’s main sources of income together with rum, from the cane,
cigars and tourism.
There were to be 27 of us including Claudia’s family
and nearly all of Miguel’s friends and wives who had come for the wedding like
us. It was the perfect moment for a
group photo and here we all are standing next to one of the cars, owned, by the
way, by a Spanish taxi driver, Alfonso, who had come to Spain for love but also
because of the crisis. From Avila near
Madrid, he was to be our driver. He told us the old 1949 chevrolet car he has
cost him 20.000 cucs (the same in euros).
A group photo just before we all left for Viñales in a cavalcade of classic American cars |
We set off in great spirits. It was a lovely warm
day. We drove out of Havana passing the
affluent Miramar district where many of the Embassies are. From Miramar we passed the richest area of
all Cuba which I think is called Sibone.
Alfonso pointed out the Spanish ambassador’s residence which was
imposing. The houses here were huge, well-kept and looked like palaces. It is
in this area you find what is known as zero Zone, the huge area where Raúl
Castro lives. It was heavily guarded and
fenced and we were told the Castros hardly ever left it. Rumour has it there is even an airport
there. So much for equality from
Castro’s communism I thought. I was once
again reminded of George Orwell’s Animal Farm.
We drove along one of only 2 motorways in Cuba and it
was in dire need of repair. Alongside us
rode horse and carriages and “collective” lorries. People lined the hard shoulder hailing them
down. We felt so privileged in our
cavalcade of old Chevrolets. Eladio sat in the front wearing his panama hat enjoying
the ride.
Eladio in our Chevrolet in Viñales |
We stopped on the way at a tourist stopping point
called Las Barrigonas. It was very
picturesque and there were donkeys and horses for posing for photos as well as
a couple of well looked after oxen. I
had to have a photo with the oxen.
Me with the oxen at the Barrigonas tourist stop on our way to Viñales |
From Las Barrigonas we continued on our journey into
the countryside. We left the motorway
and went on a very old and potholed road not far from Viñales but which took
ages or so it seemed. Our next stop was
at a mirador overlooking the tobacco fields and banana plantations and the many
royal palm trees, one of the symbols of Cuba.
The view from the Mirador near Viñales |
The place was lively and as is typical here there was
a group playing music and dancing.
Nearly everywhere we went we heard music and saw dancing. It is often spontaneous and when you are
having a quiet dinner, suddenly a band appears from nowhere and starts playing
like the one in the picture below.
Typical Cuban singing and dancing at the Mirador near Viñales |
Being me, I was the only one from the group to dare to take a ride on the ox which was there for the tourists hahaha.
Me riding on the ox at the Mirador near Viñales |
From the Mirador we drove through the picturesque
Viñales to a tobacco plantation. I had never seen tobacco growing and was
delighted with my new experience.
At the tobacco plantation, in the fields. Just behind me is the drying hut |
We went inside one of the thatched roof drying huts to
be given an explanation by an old tobacco worker.
Inside the tobacco drying hut. The tobacco farmer is making a cigar in front of us |
He was an obvious expert and after explaining the
process he started making a cigar. He told us that 90% of what tobacco growers earn goes to the state and 10% is for themselves. The method is completely natural and was
fascinating to watch. Here I learned
that the nicotine comes from the main nerve of the leaf. Of course we all had to try his cigar. I did too, taking care not to inhale it.
Me with the tobacco farmer |
Eladio and I just as we were leaving the tobacco plantation in our procession of old cars like the one in the photo |
Our next stop after leaving the tobacco plant was to
see the “prehistoric mural”. It is
actually a huge painting in the rocks to show the evolution of the people in
Cuba, from the aborigines onwards. It
was a sight to see.
The colourful mural in the rock near Viñales (muro de la prehistoria de Cuba) |
From there we drove to a farm called “Sendero del Paraiso del silencio” (paradise of silence) where all sorts of fruit and
vegetables are grown including the delicious banana apples. Here we were to have lunch in one of the
thatched roof huts overlooking the plantation.
The meal in Viñales |
The meal itself was all Cuban food. We were told that the meal we had was from
“tierra, mar y aire” (land, sea and air) meaning we had food from the soil, sea
and air and which also means a grand meal.
It was indeed. The best part was
the alcohol free piña colada which I loved.
One of the dining huts |
At 4 we had to leave in order to drive on the bumpy
road to Pinar del Río and the “motorway” to Havana in daylight. It was a nightmare of a journey which seemed
never ending. Thankfully we stopped off
some 60km from the capital. I was amazed
to see all the cars park on the hard shoulder and that we had to cross the
motorway to get to the café and loos.
The loo is worth mentioning and was perhaps the worst I had seen. With no running water, the toilet attendant
had to pour a bucket of water into the loo after each person had gone. The place, as you can imagine, was filthy.
Crossing the motorway on our way back to Havana for a pit stop. Couldn't believer my eyes |
We didn’t get “home” until 7.30. We were exhausted and
felt dirty and in great need of a shower.
However, we had to rush as Miguel had booked a table for the 4 of us at
8pm at a restaurant called El Mediterráneo, thankfully around the corner from
where we were staying. As is usual with restaurants here, there were only
tourists having dinner. After all, if a Cuban earns 16 euros a month, no way
can he or she afford a meal for 10 euros which is what it cost that night per
head.
Exhausted once again, we went to bed early, just before
10pm, after an interesting conversation about Communist Cuba in the garden with
Pablo the night warden.
Tuesday 3rd January was to be our last full
day in Havana and the day of Miguel and Claudia’s wedding, the reason we had
come here. The first part of the morning was spent searching for internet or
rather searching for an internet card.
They seem to be scarce. It was hot and soon we were sweating walking the
streets of El Vedado in search of one.
Finally we found an official internet post with quite a queue.
Dolores in the internet card queue |
Here they sell them at 2 cucs each but in the street
resellers sell them for 3. It’s a
lucrative business for some Cubans who queue up every day to buy them and then
resell them. Each person is allowed to
buy 3 at a time. The queue was orderly but endless and then suddenly out of
nowhere a security van arrived with armed police who came to collect the money
from the internet card firm Etecsa.
Dolores and I preferred not to wait any more and finally bought 2 cards
from a delightful young Cuban woman who was 8 months pregnant. We then went in search of a wifi spot which
we soon found in a nearby park. Here we were able to touch base with friends
and family, not to mention work, in Spain.
Our real destination that morning was the tourist
market, La Feria de San José at the end of the port of Havana. Olivia my daughter had told me there was nothing
to buy in Cuba. She was wrong though as this market has wonderful souvenirs for
sale and at a much lower price than the tourist shops in the Obispo street for
example.
At the arts and crafts market, la Feria de San José |
I wanted to buy
a painting of the streets of Havana.
They are very colourful and finally got one which was a collage of a
vintage car with the Cuban flag painted on the local and very famous newspaper,
Granma. I also bought the percussion
instruments we had been introduced to, the clave, the wiro and maracas as well as some beautiful necklaces and bracelets made out of seed at one peso each! I
left without finding the t-shirt I wanted or the replica vintage car but I
would be going back on our last day with Ministro and Marta and would look for
them.
From the market which was enormous by the way, we
walked to the San Francisco Square, the one where slaves used to be auctioned,
in search of a place to eat lunch. Here
we parted with Toño and Dolores as my sister-in-law had an appointment with a
hairdresser for the wedding which was starting at 6pm that afternoon.
Eladio and I stayed in town and decided to splash out
and have lunch at the elegant Café del Oriente where we told the King of Spain and
many other famous people had eaten on more than one occasion. It was a beautiful restaurant in an elegant
colonial building and there was a jazz and piano group playing soft Frank
Sinatra type music. We were in bliss.
Lunch at Café del Oriente |
We took a taxi back after haggling the price down from
10 to 6 pesos and were soon back in our quiet and spacious room. For Eladio it was siesta time and for me it
was shower time. It was a hot and humid
day and I ended up having 3 showers that day!
Those of us belonging to Miguel’s group staying at
Rent In Vedado, set off for the wedding just before 6pm which was to take place at a
restaurant 100 metres away. We all
looked very dashing in the clothes we had brought. Here I am with Marta my niece by the door of
our residence just before leaving.
Marta my niece and I ready to go to the wedding |
The wedding was in full swing when we arrived. There
were some 80 guests and after a week in Havana we knew more than half of
them. We were delighted to see Toño and
Eladio’s second cousins, Rosa María, her husband Papo and her sister Lecinia
who had left her father Roche in charge of looking after their Mother. We were
also to meet Rosa’s son “Fidel”.
Our Cuban "cousins", sisters Lecinia (left), Rosa Marí and her husband "Papo" |
There was lots of attention to detail at the
beautifully planned wedding and first there was to be a ceremony. Here are the bride and groom at the altar
just after it started.
The bride and groom at the altar with Claudia's friends and sweet cousin Indira (in white) |
It was a lovely ceremony conducted by Lola, the
restaurant owner and the couple’s friend.
Miguel’s best friend “Cabra” spoke as did Claudia’s friends. There was also to be an ancient wedding
ritual where the couple had to mix Spanish soil with Cuban soil into a jar they
were supposed to keep forever and if there were problems ever in their marriage
the idea was to shake the jar and start again.
I found it delightful.
The piece de resistance of the wedding was music and
dancing. The band was pretty famous or
rather the singer, Rae, was and the atmosphere created such good vibes that even I
danced and quite a lot too. Oh how the
Cubans know how to dance.
Dancing and more dancing at the Cuban wedding |
Missing from the bride and groom’s previous 2 wedding
celebrations in Spain was the wedding cake.
But here there was a beautiful one although I never got to taste it.
The bride and groom cutting the cake |
We all took it in turns to have photos taken with the
bride and groom in groups of friends or families. I have chosen the photo with Miguel’s family
to illustrate this week’s blog.
It was very warm and the music a little too loud for
us “oldies”, thus we made a discreet exit at about 9pm. I don’t know how long the wedding would go
onto but I guessed into the small hours of the morning, at least for the young
people.
We walked back to our residence, a haven of peace and
quiet, showered and got changed and sat outside in the garden for what would be
the last night for Eladio and I. Toño
and Dolores would be going to the Keys (Santa Maria) the next morning for a few
days with the bride and groom and some of their friends while we would be
returning to Spain. I didn’t want to leave and would have loved to stay for
another week.
So we went to be bed at 10pm!! I was up on our last day, 4th Jan,
at 6.30. As I did every morning I had a cup of coffee and went into the garden
to chronicle my blog.
As our flight wasn’t until 10.15pm, we had plenty of
time to enjoy more of Havana on our last day.
Returning to Spain with us were my niece Marta and husband Ministro. After
saying our goodbyes, we got into a pink 1954 Chevrolet convertible car we had
hired to take us on a tour of the city.
Our driver arrived on time and we were delighted with our upcoming
activity. We immediately began taking
photos like the one below.
Eladio, me, Marta and Ministro next to our pink 1954 Chevrolet convertible car that would take us on a ride on our last day |
Setting off in our pink vintage car |
Dionis, our driver, with his cowboy hat, took
us on a tour of the new part of the city, the new Vedado and Mirasierra where
the affluent people live. He also took us to what is known as "the lung of Havana", a green area with a huge wood by the River Almendares.
A stop at the River Almendares on out pink car tour on the last day |
From there our driver took us once again to visit Miramar where he showed us big ugly hotels and the 5th Avenue. This is the most important avenue in the city and I wasn't surprised to see that the Russian Embassy was located there. It was a horrible Soviet style building. Russia was once so important for Cuba but no longer is it today.
The ugly Russian Embassy on 5th Avenue in Havana |
From the 5th Avenue we drove onto the Malecón sea front for the last time. We were dropped off at the Feria de San José where I bought more colourful necklaces, a t-shirt I'm not sure I'll ever wear and a replica miniature classic American car.
From the San José market, with plenty of time on our hands as our flight wasn't leaving until 10.15 that night, we walked towards the Plaza San Francisco stopping at the Russian Orthodox Cathedral on the way.
Here we were let in reluctantly by a Russian parishioner who told us it was closed for lunch. I persuaded her to let us in telling her my Mother was Russian and my Father had been a Russian Orthodox priest. That's when she warmed up and even let me take a photo of the church inside. Whenever I see a Russian church abroad I always want to go in, like I always did in Helsinki.
We got to the San Francisco Square and Marta and I immediately headed to a wifi spot for a short internet session. We decided to have lunch at the Café de Oriente again and were lucky to reserve the last table available. We had 30 minutes on our hands and decided to walk the streets again. Here I am talking to a group of musicians. This time they did not ask for a coin but I gave them one.
Me and the Cuban musicians on our last day |
Once more we ended up in the Plaza de las Armas where they sell second hand books, posters and magazines, mostly about the revolution and the history of Cuba.
A stall in the Plaza de las Armas |
We had a leisurely lunch at the lovely restaurant and enjoyed the piano playing. To get back "home" we walked to the Parque Central square where we would catch our last "almendrón" or collective taxi.
An "almendrón" or "colectivo" (shared taxi) |
It dropped us off at the Linea street where we walked back to our residence. On our way we passed a street where a proper little recycling industry was going on. A group of men were flattening old cans to sell them as metal. This is how they do it. We couldn't believe our eyes.
Flattening drink cans for reselling on a street in Vedado |
We had a 3 hour wait in the garden of our residence until our taxi driver came. Marta, Ministro and I took the time to walk to the nearest wifi hotspot at the Hotel President for them to check in online. It was no easy task but we managed it. On our way back to our residence, we had one of our last lessons in how Cuba works. This time is was about their buses. We saw one which had obviously been bought from Barcelona. It was very old and dirty and we laughed at the writing on it about respecting the environment. They hadn't even bothered to remove the Barcelona bus company logo hahaha.
At 6.30 pm. our polite Cuban taxi driver came to take us to the airport. He came in his 1940 car. We learned from him that he had studied to be a telecoms engineer but only earned 20 cucs (the same in euros) per month. So when he inherited his grandfather's car, he became a taxi driver. People are educated here, yes, but they cannot earn a living with the jobs available. It's so sad. Our driver told us he was praying for change once Raul Castro stands down in 2018. So am I.
Our wait at the airport was long and frustrating. The controls were ok, what was not were the loos (ghastly) and the cafeteria which seemed to have run out of everything even bread.
Thus it was bliss to get on our Iberia flight and fly towards civilization again hahaha. It was to be 9 hours long and this time I slept thank goodness. Oli was there to meet us when we arrived on Thursday 5th January at midday.
It was great to be home and eat a nice Spanish lunch prepared for us by Salud. We decided not to go to sleep until the evening to avoid the jet lag and that's what we did. I even went shopping with Oli for food for Kings' Day today.
So here I am writing again from home on Kings' Day in the morning, still with much of my mind on Cuba. It was a fascinating trip and I'm glad we went. I do hope you enjoy reading about it. Hopefully things will improve there for the people. I am praying they will.
So goodbye for now my friends and readers until my next post.
Cheers Happy Kings' Day and Happy New Year to you all
2 comments:
It was lovely to read your blog. It took me back to the days I lived there, 1983-1986. Not much has changed. I went back 12 years ago and stayed at the Hotel National, as I had always wanted to stay there after visiting it many times for my tennis lessons on their courts!
The Cubans used to call the old delapitated houses along the Malecón "barbacoas" as they were split up into many levels with temporary floors inserted like racks on a barbecue and different families lived on each rack!
The British embassy was in Vedado, with views of the fort and malecón.
My old house was 2 doors down from the pizza restaurant you visited in Miramar.
When I was there you could only get fruit and veg sporadically although there was plenty growing at that time, there were no refrigerated lorries to transport the produce from field to city. Many communist supporters from abroad used to come to pick the fruit but, sadly it, usually ended up in rotting piles on the side of the road.
You should never eat beef in Cuba as it's awful!
I had a driver who I paid to upkeep my car, a Vauxhall. I had imported crates of spare parts for it, but they got stolen at the dockside when the car was unloaded. It arrived without tyres or wing mirrors which miraculously disappeared between the ship docking and the car being released to me from customs. He could make it go using the most amazing collection of bits and pieces he scavenged!
I visited vinales with Glenn and had my best meal at the parador there.
The best things about Cuba and Havana are the people, the music and the general sense of fun that exists despite the conditions that prevail there.
Thanks for bringing back so many good memories Masha. X
Of course it would bring back memories of your time there. It's just an amazing place, unique in the world as if time has stood still since Castro took over. Like the name "barbacoas" of the delapitated houses. You must have enjoyed your time there immensely. Thanks for taking the time to read it as it was soooo long but there was so much to tell. Lots of love
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