Crossing the Cuban border was a breeze. Our bags were first to come off the conveyor belt, the money exchange desk was right outside the airport, and we found a taxi driver that was kind enough to take us to the doorstep of the casa we reserved. Entering back into the US may be a different story; I flirted with the border patrol to avoid getting my passport stamped. Micah, however, didn't bat his eyelashes or unbutton his shirt enough and has a noticeable pink stamp in his now. If you could all be so kind to start a change jar labeled "Micah's fee/bail money", we'd appreciate it.
Since all the hotels in Cuba are government owned, we decided to do what most financially responsible tourists that want a real taste of Cuba do- rent a room in a locals home. The casa particulars are everywhere and therefore reasonably priced. Most are located in the home (versus a detached apartment), above the living room or the first door at the end of the stairway and include a private bathroom, AC, and a mini fridge. Sunday around 7:30am we checked in to the casa that we booked for 3 nights and started our Cuba adventures with a 3 hour nap. Feeling slightly more energized, we made our way across downtown Havana in to Vedado, the western neighborhood and former mob run casino district, for live rumba music which occurs every Sunday at noon. We found the small archways that appeared to lead in to an alley but with a crowd congregating and the sound of African drums coming from within. Mostly locals were gathered around a central outdoor area where there were singers standing against a muraled wall with microphones, men banging on Congos to the left, and the lead singer in front of the crowd dancing around the man and woman rumba-ing in the center. We only stayed 15 minutes before we felt like we were drowning in our own sweat but it was a sweet way to be welcomed in to Cuba.
Capitol building in Habana Vieja
Strolling along the malecón with Habana Centro in the distance
Rumba!!
We ended up clocking on 5 miles on Sunday, simply walking all over Habana Vieja (Old Havana) where we were staying. Havana is exactly like it's described with a few surprises. There are more baby blue Chevys and Plymouths from the 1950s than modern day vehicles and most are in great condition. The buildings in Havana are at a minimum of 3 stories tall which means most homes have two doors to enter; one leads you in to a living area or down a hallway to an outdoor yard and the other takes you straight up a flight of stairs to the rest of the living quarters. The inside and outside of the home is decorated with exquisite detail, with 15' ceilings that fancy chandeliers hang from and large French doors that open up to a balcony with wet clothes hanging from a line. If the outside of the home doesn't have the original crown molding and artistic designs, it's painted a bright yellow, green, pink or blue.
Detailed facade
The Cubans are more aggressive and pushy than we've encountered yet, but it's a friendly and well-intentioned pushy. We've been a bit dissapointed with the lack of cheap food options so have our eyes peeled for food stands and homes that serve meals for a small charge. The first night in Havana we looked at a reader board outside one home, but spaghetti appeared to be the only choice so we walked away. A block later, we could hear a man yelling "hola amigos" which continued for 2 more blocks and made us a bit nervous. We should also mention that Havana Vieja is a happening place in the evening, with people littering the streets, doors to homes ajar, and alleys about as dark as they get. A bicycle taxi rode by us, pointing back to the yelling man indicating we were the amigos he was referring to, so we stopped and waited for him. Turns out he was from the house where we scanned the menu outside and he just wanted to inform us about the food and prices. In a very dark alley. Micah has also had a few kids beg for money and even tap his pants pocket to feel for change as we walk by (which he didn't know until I read this to him).
Monday morning we expected to change rooms in our casa since we were told they had other guests already booked in our room for that night. We assumed we'd just be moving down the hall, but the owner of our casa threw on one of our packs and walked us down the block and onto the next street to her friend's home. Rumor is that if you book a casa in advance, once you arrive it will most often be already occupied. Either way, Monday was another day of walking, mostly along the same malecón that we strolled on Sunday to get to Vedado. This day we had our eyes set across the water on Fortaleza de San Carlos de la Cabaña, the largest Spanish Fortress in the Americas (700m from one end to the other). After failing to find a taxi to take us through the underground tunnel for a price we were willing to pay, we refueled our negotiating powers with our first Cuban beverages: a mojito and a Cuban Libre, sitting on the waterfront none-the-less. Taxis practically begged us to ride in them after and we spent a couple hours wandering the fort, impressed with all the cannons and a decent panoramic of the city. We split the cab fare back across with 2 Canadians and continued to wander the city into the evening, somehow accumulating 5 more miles despite how sluggish we felt from Saturday's over nighter.
Inside the Fortaleza de San Carlos de la Cabaña
We had 2 options to get to Cienfugos, our next stop, on Tuesday; take a bus for $20 each with a $10 taxi ride to the terminal and chances are tickets will be sold out if you don't buy in advance, or share a taxi with others for $30 each. We opted for the shared taxi for the 3.5 hour ride and arrived just after noon on Tuesday. We walked <5 minutes before we took our bags off in our new casa. I wanted to visit Cienfugos since it was first pioneered by the French rather than the Spanish and has preserved its French roots in the architecture. Which pretty much means we walked all day Tuesday. Found an extremely cheap lunch ($2 for 2 sandwiches and 2 drinks) and laughed when the waitress came to take our order but then told us they only had one item available on their menu- wasn't the first time this happened to us and we hear this is common in Cuba. We walked to the bus station on the other side of town before making our way again on a malecón towards a ritzier part of town, Punta Gorda. The malecón ended at a clean but small beach that was overcrowded with paddle boats and swimmers, and on shore were groups drinking straight from bottles of rum and one topless sunbather. We watched (the water, not her) and then headed back home, stopping at a restaurant for fried chicken, pizza, and Chinese wontons, the latter two from a freezer box.
Palacio de Valle, Moroccan architecture
Finally caught up on sleep by Wednesday morning and started our day with a plentiful breakfast at the casa. Some offer to cook breakfast or dinner for an extra charge ($3-$7 per person) and with the lack of authentic, traditional food we've found for cheap, this seems to be a great option. Our very sweet but aggressive casa mom liked speaking Spanish very fast to us. She tried to organize a friend to shuttle us to the terminal for our pre-paid bus to Trinidad at 12:45 but we declined, worried that we'd be expected to pay. We believe she then offered to phone a friend in Trinidad so we could stay at their casa, but we wanted to look around so said "no gracias" mostly, and a few "si?"s may have slipped in when we couldn't understand her.
The bus ride to Trinidad was interesting at first. We sat in a lobby with 75 other people when a man came out and told the nationals to board the 12:45 to Trinidad. They did, leaving 8 gringos. We waited and at 12:47 another lady yelled "Trinidad" so we rushed to the bus, paid $1 to put both bags underneath and got on a bus full of tourists. Apparently they have separate buses for nationals and tourists. It made more sense when we pulled in to Trinidad 90 minutes later and nearly 100 locals were holding signs with names or pictures of a casa, anxiously awaiting to mob the tourists as they got off the tourists only bus. Apparently our aggressive casa mom did phone a friend on our behalf; there was a man holding a well crafted sign with JULIA and MICAH on it. It freaked me out so I ran by him and avoided eye contact. A few people followed us trying to convince us to stay with them but eventually lost interest since we ignored them. Then one guy said the magic words: ten dollars. We checked out his casa where he, his wife and son live and opted to spend the next 3 nights in the small room with a private bathroom and a poorly working AC. My favorite part about our room is that we nearly walk through their living room when we enter, which means we say a quick buenos to the shirtless dad with his son in his lap as they're playing video games on the tv.
Once we were established in our new casa, we set out to explore. We headed towards the peaceful Parque Central, found a free art gallery and the open air market. It's always interesting that there's new niches in each town, but that each vendor in the town sells practically the same thing (in Trinidad, it's embroidery, wooden spoons, and art). We ate a late lunch at a cheap but tasty cafeteria before making our way home to freshen up and test our AC. Around 7pm we headed back out to the plaza, where we encountered a stand in the street selling mojitos for $1.50; we promised to return and set our arbitrary mojito price in our head. After a sit down dinner with a couple of adult beverages, we headed to a bar that was on our must-see list. Palenque de Los Congos Realas had live music when we arrived and then at 10pm, the music changed from Salsa to Rumba. The well-known Rumba lasted 45 minutes, consisted of 3 men playing Congo drums, 3 standing behind with a variety of wooden shakers and 3 singing. A few minutes in to the show, a few younger males came on stage and danced traditional African style. Call me naive (wouldn't be the first time), but I didn't realize how strong African culture is rooted in Cuba. I assumed it would feel like a mixture of Latino, European and Carribean/Jamaican. It makes sense, once you begin to delve in to Cuba's complex history, and realize that the Spaniards and their African slaves settled in Cuba centuries ago. The smooth blending of so many cultures in Cuba is what has been the surprise for me, and the raw openness of the people to share it has been amazing. I'm so glad we're experiencing it before good ol' America puts a Starbucks on every corner.
Thursday was our touristy day in Trinidad city. We started with a 30 minute uphill hike to a radio transmitter that overlooks the city, with medium sized mountains to the NW and the Carribean Sea visible to the SW. Most interesting part of the hike was the discoteca bar in a cave that we passed 10 minutes in to the hike. For lunch we found a man selling pizzas from a tiny oven on his doorstep before we made it back to the casa to wash some clothes in the sink. For the afternoon we visited two museums that had bell towers to climb for more great views and went back to the market in search of small trinkets. We also did our first casa dinner on Thursday night. Our casa dad asked what we wanted and we told him local, typical food. He nodded and said "ok, rice and beans." Although we had rice and beans 2 meals per day in Nicaragua, we haven't much since and it actually sounds good! We did get rice, but with a juicy pork chop, fried plantains, soup and fresh veggies. We headed back out after, as rumor has it that Trinidad makes some mean ice cream (it was pretty darn good, but has nothing on Salt and Straw). As promised, we returned to the mojito stand but were told it was $2 this night. Annoyed with how often prices change one day to the next, we walked away. A worker half-ran after us to tell us we could have them for $1.50, but the people in line before us were paying $2 so they didn't want them to hear. It was awkward.
Today, Friday, we had to get out of the heat. We rented two bikes after having breakfast at our casa and headed towards the water. The ride was fairly easy, although cobblestone streets are as hard to ride on as they are to walk. Up and down a few minor hills, through the quaint town of La Boca and 8 km more along the coastline and we were on Playa Ancón, the best beach on the south coast of Cuba. We dove right in to cool off and then donned our snorkel gear. The snorkeling was great because it was different than previous. There were small yet colorful fish that were shy, hiding amongst the coral that covered the entire floor. The water was also extremely shallow, which was nerve wracking to have just an inch between our bellies and the sea urchins living in the coral. We had a piña colada from a man on the beach and then snorkeled one more time. Micah went out further than me and when he returned, he claimed he saw a jellyfish. I'm not convinced I believe him, but between that and the sting rays, I may not swim near him ever again. We hit a small, natural pool on the 18 km ride back, passed a few horse drawn carriages, huffed and puffed back up the hills and made it home. Opted to do another casa dinner tonight, which turned out to be a good choice; chicken, black rice, potatoes and veggies. We went back out after dinner to people watch during the sunset and stock up on water for a 2.5 hour bus ride tomorrow. We're now heading for the northern beaches of Playa Pilar, which we've heard may be the best beach in the Carribean. We are officially half done with our time in Cuba and actually, are over half done with our first big road trip away from Nicaragua, since we plan to return to our base camp in mid June. Time sure flies when you're having fun!
Until next time...
Julia
Fun! There needs to be a "like" button!
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you're enjoying Cuba and didn't have any trouble getting in. It sounds like casa are the way to go. I'm surprised they allow them.
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