A Side of Sweet

Adventures in Cuba, Viñales

A four hour bus ride took us east of Havaanna to Viñales, a tiny city in the countryside surrounded by mogotes, mountains made of leftover limestone after the rest has been worn away, leaving flat topped mountains rising up over the valleys. From the start, it felt like Pat and I were stirring up trouble in this sleepy little town. Due to a schedule mix up, our bus arrived two hours early, meaning our casa particular owner wasn’t waiting for us at the bus station. In an attempt to find her place on our own, we mixed up the address and ended up checking in at her unsuspecting neighbor’s place. It wasn’t until we were exploring the city a few hours later that we were chased down by a woman with a sign with our names on it! We explained the mistake and she marched us back to her neighbor’s place. After some heated words that turned into laughs, we collected our suitcases, signed on the government ledger and moved into Teresa’s Holiday Inn. When I saw the shiny pink bedspread, fake flowers and pink pictures of kittens, I knew our experience at this Casa wasn’t going to be quite as lovely as it was with Miriam in Havaanna.

From the start of our visit to Viñales, it felt like we were expected to conform to a preset “tourist program”. Each house in the town was perfectly restored and looked identical to its neighbor. Having seen two different casas, we also got the same sales pitch at each: “here is the menu for dinner, it is a ton of food and much better than you can find in the restaurants, I have a guide you can book who can take you on a horseback ride to see the countryside and a secret cave, here is the price of drinks I can make you” and so on. It all came off as a bit mechanical and…rehearsed. Pat and I had the uneasy feeling that the whole setup might be a bit too orchestrated. At least in Havana you knew a lot of things were under government control/strict regulations but it wasn’t SO blaring.

Aside from this, our visit to Viñales was absolutely lovely and the area is a must-see if you visit Cuba.

Our host was wonderful and our meals were just as bountiful and tasty as she had promised.

The guide she arranged for us was very friendly and our ride through the hills was nothing short of spectacular. The cave was a bit underwhelming, especially for Pat, who has claustrophobia. There was a pool at the end of it but the idea of swimming in murky, dark cave water and then getting back on our horses soaking wet didn’t sit well with either of us.

On the way home, we stopped at a tobacco farm to see the drying tobacco leaves, watch a farmer hand roll and cigar and of course, receive a sales pitch about how we should buy some of the cigars made from the 10% of his crop that his family gets to keep. I ended up being translator or our group of tourists, earning myself some free fresh-squeezed coconut-grapefruit cocktail and a cigar. Pat bought a couple of packages of cigars as gifts and I entrusted him with my cigar as well, since I’m not terribly fond of tobacco myself.

Back at the casa, we spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing and then went for a run. There were tons of small black flies along the horse path we ran on, leaving our sweat-soaked bodies covered with them. In addition, my horribly sunburn was starting to blister and peel. Nothing says vacation like picking small black bugs and flaps of skin off of your travel partner. You’re the best Pat!

We caught the early morning Viazul bus to Trinidad. One full day and two nights was definitely enough time in Viñales.

Adventures in Cuba, Havana Part VII

With our last half day of exploring before venturing to other parts of Cuba, Pat and I checked out Callejon de Hamel. The “Street of Hamel” is completely painted by a Cuban artist Salvador Gonzalez Escalona. It is a tribute to the Afro-Cuban culture and the Santería religion.

Goodbye Havana, for now!

Impressions of Cuba

This is my first time traveling where people don’t first assume I’m American. I’ve gotten a lot of guesses that I’m Spanish (!?) or French. For the first few days that I was alone it was also hard to meet fellow travelers. Hostels, which are usually the center of backpacker life, don’t exist in Cuba so everyone is fairly scattered across the city in Casa Particulares.

Obviously, there are less disparities here than in a capitalist country. You don’t come across secluded neighborhoods with huge modern mansions or see many people begging for money on the streets. As tourism income surges, there is an “emerging middle class” from the big money foreigners bring into the country.

It also amazes me that the average life expectancy here is 78.7 years, longer than the 78.4 years I’m expected to live as an American. Cuba has universal health care and an amazing program where they offer free medical education and housing in exchange for a service commitment to an under served population. The program brings in people from as far as Africa and even the United States, all with promises to go back to their respective countries and serve their people. It’s an unbelievably progressive approach to filling the health care void in areas desperately in need of doctors.

People watching seems to be the nation’s pastime. People are always out on their balconies or standing in their doorways taking in the hubbub on the streets.

Cars are always jam-packed, a big difference from the stereotypical American driver who’s all alone in his big SUV jabbing away on his cell phone. I’ve seen eight people pile out of a five seater car – talk about a jumble of arms and legs!

There are always reminders of the large government presence in the peoples’ daily lives. My first landlord told me that the government automatically takes $18 of the room fee every time he has a guest. Every time we check into a new place we have to give our passport numbers and visas and sign a ledger. One lady told us the government comes often to check to make sure they have all of their guests registered. On a pedicab ride home one night, the police stopped my driver. Apparently, he didn’t have the correct license to drive foreigners. The guidebook says the fine that he was probably issued was around $300 – more than the average Cuban yearly salary!

It’s a lot to take in and I’m learning more and more every day.

Adventures in Cuba, Havana Part VI

After a lazy morning and a big breakfast in Casa, we headed out to the streets of Havana. It was raining lightly, so we stopped under an awning and sat on a curb to people watch and take photos:

A quick stop for lunch for $.20 pizzas at a little window that opened into a kitchen hit the spot:

We also came across a bakery with some lovely cakes on display. We learned that every child in Cuba gets a birthday cake every year until their 5th birthday and they cost less than a $.50! I thought this was an interesting and unexpected benefit to socialism!

Although I couldn’t convince anyone it was my 5th birthday, we did get some delicious baked goods for pennies:

We wandered through Habana Viejo and came across an area of town that has been renovated by the government to encourage tourism. It was a little jarring to come from the beautiful but rundown streets surrounding the neighborhood to this shiny, “Epcot” version of Havaanna with European cafes, nice shops and expensive restaurants all built to attract tourists. Definitely not my favorite part of Havana.

We also stopped at the Havana Club Rum museum to learn more about the process of making rum. The museum was a steep $7 and definitely not worth the money, especially compared to the tobbacco factory tour. It was all displays and models and very commercialized.

A little ice cream from a street vendor made everything ok:

Even though the sign says three dollars, this is actually in the local Cuban Peso so it worked out to about $.10.

The night ended with rooftop mojitos at Hotel Ambos Mundos, a schnazzy place that was one of Ernest Hemmingway’s frequent haunts. The rain cleared just in time for a gorgeous right out of a painting sunset over the city skyline.

The cab ride home was also an adventure. We hopped into on of the most run down taxis in the city, a far cry from the classic cars we’ve seen all over. This one though, had a driver with a hilarous personality and happy-to-go lucky attitude about his decrepit auto. It was definitely a memorable ride!

Adventures in Cuba, Havana Part V

Even though, it’s fun to immerse ourselves into the Cuban culture, there are still tourist attractions that need to be seen while we’re here. Tuesday, we visited the National Tobacco Factory where we got to see the step by step process of how the famous and unattainable (for Americans) Cuban cigars are made. It was interesting to hear all about the process and even better to see the workers actually doing it all by hand. We also learned that the tobacco worker makes three times the national average salary, something very rare in a socialist country. At the end of the day the number of salable cigars are counted and the number of mistakes are subtracted to determine how much money they have earned. There are also only 17 workers in the whole country who are trusted to roll the most famous Cuban brand, Cohiba. The brand uses high quality leaves with extra flavor to give them their unique taste.

We also learned that although variations in cigar color are normal, cigars are boxed according to color in order to make them more visually appealing to the consumer.

The Cuban national capitol was designed by the same person who designed Madison’s city capitol and they are remarkably similar:

It isn’t used anymore so it was open for exploration:

Outside of the capitol, I saw a pink convertible taxi and immediately fell in love. I wanted it to keep it forever but had to settle on just a few minutes in the driver’s seat.

We also checked out the Museo de Bellas Artes to see original works by Cuban artists:

Tired and hungry, we stopped at one of the fancy hotel restaurants to split a pizza. Even though it was $10, it was enough to feed two and a good supplement to the bread and peanut butter we’re making a big part of our diets.

The night ended with a bottle of wine and some people watching on our balcony.

Cuban Customs: Pat’s Story

The big jet plane took one last swoop down toward the long, bumpy tarmac as palm trees and lush vegetation came into view. Cuba. Am I really here? Does the U.S. government see me right now? Is there an agent on this plane? Whatever, nothing I can do about it anymore, I’m here; ready to take it all in as best I can for the next two weeks. I got off the plane, got my checked backpack with all my goodies packed away, made it all the way through security; almost. The Cuban equivalent of a TSA officer comes running at me from behind as I’m about to head through the doors to finally meet up with Kelly. “Necessito tu passaporte. Venga aqui,” says the officer as adrenaline starts wreaking havoc in my heart chambers.

I was interviewed by an officer alongside a fellow traveler from Brazil. Typical questions like, “Where will you be staying?” “How much money do you have with you?” and so on, were asked; all interspersed between long periods of waiting and watching the officers’ bro-nie-ism play out with multiple high fives and low-toned chuckles of, “we’re really going to screw over this newbie.” After about thirty adrenaline fueled minutes of pacing, I was given my passport and told to have a nice trip. At the gate, there was Kelly worried that I had truly been detained by the commies of socialist Cuba. All was well after a few tight hugs and a somewhat difficult currency exchange with the overworked woman behind the counter. Time for some cold mogeetoes.

Flying through hoards of classic 50’s Chevrolet’s, Plymouth’s, Dodge’s, etc., our cab driver made his way to our unexpectedly nice casa particular inhabited by our very warm-welcoming house mom Miriam. After a short while of unpacking, me and Kelly made our way into town. Somewhat overcast skies made for a rather serene first walk down the malecon, and cold mojitoes after a quick visit to the Hotel Nacional was a kickin’ fresh introduction to the time capsule that Havaanna is.

-Pat