Cuba’s Heartland
24th of May:
Early morning, tiny breakfast, and out about to see Camaguey. It is a great place, especially the lack of city planning appeals to me, after months of every single city and village being laid out in a grid, these random streets seem to cheer me up. Camaguey is not an extravagant place, square etc. are simple and mostly empty, restaurants (even really nice ones) are cheap, entrance fees to museums and churches are neither non-existent or a mere 1 CUC.
Unfortunately there isn’t much to see in the city, so my first action was to go to the bus terminal, and buy a ticket to Trinidad for that very night, at 2:10 in the morning. I then pranced about the city, taking in the sights and eating ice creams (it is a great pastime in Cuba), where I dared enter Coppelia, the greatest ice cream place in Cuba, with one in the biggest cities (Camaguey is the fourth biggest city in Cuba), and here they supposedly serve the best ice cream. What you do is turn up, say “el ultimo” which means “the last”, stand behind that person, and wait. Eventually a new group of people will be taken in, and there is a great chaos, and you have to try and retain your place, or be thrown back to the start again. Then you enter, order your ice cream, sit down, wait for a waiter, reorder the ice cream and wait. When the ice cream comes, you dig in and realise… That this is not the best ice cream you have ever had, far from. In fact that very day I had bought an ice cream from a street salesman, that would by far beat the famous Coppelia ice creameria any day.
At the square San Juan de Dios, there is an old hospital (museum now) with a viewpoint over the city from its tower, Camaguey is a lot more beautiful from above, I wonder what Habana would look like from a high viewpoint, they do exist, but only in forms of expensive restaurants.
Back at the casa one of sons (named Jose) of the hostess, put on a movie in English (he is studying English at the local university) and I joined in, it was a zombie movie with Josh Hartnett, I liked it, first zombie movie I have ever liked. It had a very clever twist to it that I have never seen before, nor heard of it. For fairly obvious reasons I won’t reveal them, in case anyone here wants to see it, but the ending was really good as well.
After the movie sitting at a table, Jose was joined by his girlfriend Susy (yep, Cuban) and his brother Liuber. The conversation flowed freely for about 2 hours, with only an occasional hiccup where I dug into the Spanish-English/English-Spanish dictionary I had bought back in January in Uruguay, and hadn’t used till now. I also now discovered that Jose who is studying English (he had just recently begun) doesn’t have a Spanish-English/English-Spanish dictionary, as not only are they very pricy, they are also near impossible to get, they can only be bought in Habana. So I offered mine to him for free (I have never used it, and I am almost out of the Spanish speaking world), however he refused to accept it, and I had to insist for about 5-10 minutes before he reluctantly (but in a state of near ecstasy) accepted it. I felt it would do a lot more good for him, and that I hadn’t wasted money on the book, it will serve a better purpose now.
The conversation broke as left for dinner. I went to the same place as I had gone earlier today; my breakfast had been tiny, and there is an amazing Spanish restaurant in town. So instead of eating breakfast or lunch out, I had two small tapas during the day, first a wonderful tuna sandwich (it was on the tapas menu), and later in the day, a cut up and fried chorizo sausage with french fries. However for my dinner (quite cheap actually), I had a wonderful piece of meat, cooked in redwine and served with a mushroom sauce, in best South American/Cuban tradition, served with french fries on the side. I was however very hungry, and followed it up with a 2 CUC pizza, which did in the end fill up my stomach.
Around midnight I took a bicitaxi (a giant tricycle with two passenger seats) to the terminal 4 km away, and the poor man only asked for two convertibles, an amount so low, I paid him 3. Without about 2 hours to wait, I bought a big bottle of water, two chorizo hotdogs and watched The Darjeeling Limited, a very funny movie, although I was surprised by the content, but then all I knew about the movie, was the name. at the second the movie ended, I looked up and saw my bus roll in, what timing.
25th of May:
I woke up as the bus rolled into the Trinidad bus terminal (alarm in my watch), found a casa particular owner who offered a place with a good location at a very good price (15 CUC). Walking through Trinidad in the wee hours, I saw what a beautiful place Trinidad is, and instead of going straight to bed as I had first planned, I grabbed my camera and walked around for little more then an hour, taking pictures, with the city covered in morning light, but still empty (people). But I had hardly slept that night, so I surrendered at 8 o’clock, and went to sleep.
I woke at 12, got dressed, grabbed my trusty shoulderbag and headed out. Trinidad is the most beautiful city I have seen so far on my trip, taking the crown from Colonia del Sacramento which I visited in Uruguay all that time ago in late January. The city is nothing but old beautiful colonial buildings and towers, no new buildings to spoil the look, just perfection. I was starving right about now; I found a place where I would get a giant piece of delicious chicken along with the traditional rice with black beans, and while eating (delicious chicken) Israel Moreno appeared and started playing, a famous trovador mentioned several times in the Lonely Planet, and his music truly is bliss, what guitar work and what a voice.
After walking around and taking several pictures, it was museum time, I started with the Museo Historico Municipal, by now the old artifacts etc. doesn’t hold much interest for me, I have seen them all, but the museum has the highest accesible viewpoint in the city, and the birds eye view of Trinidad just adds to the beauty. It was followed by a visit to the Museo Nacional de la Lucha Contra Bandidos, which does have a higher but inaccesible tower. The main attraction here is the fuselage from the U2 plane shot down in the Cuban crisis, as well as a fairly high point, with a different view.
Earlier in the day I had also purchased a Fidel Castro hat and a Cohiba cigar. The hat is merely a souvenir, whereas smoking a cigar in Cuba is vital to the visit. Yes I know smoking is wrong, and it is not a habit I intend to pick up, I just have to try it while I’m here. After eating a sandwich I went back to my casa particular for a short nap; on the way back I came past some trovadors on the street, and while I stopped to take some pictures (and a make a donation), a horse pulling a cart with two boys in it, came thundering past. They weren’t in trouble, as they were simply boys and were trying to go as fast as possible. As soon as I had made it inside into the casa, a thunder cracked and it started pouring down big time. When I awoke from my nap, the floor was covered in water, and although most of stuff was placed a bit higher, my trousers were soaked. So I put on a different pair, my rainjacket and went out walking in the rain, both because I love doing it, and because I wanted pictures of Trinidad covered in water, as this was really a flush.
When I sat down for a tuna sandwich, Israel Moreno reappeared, and started playing while I was eating, and caught up on my dictionary, which for the third time now had gotten water damaged. It is very annoying and I am always afraid that the damage will be more permanent, maybe even mould my book. However this time, I am only 3 days from the states, and by extension a hairdryer. My shoulderbag is as waterproof as a camel, the problem is that I would open the bag now and again to get out my camera, and when it pours this much, water always gets in. The same can’t be said for my rainjacket which by now (not due to the trip, but how much I have used it previous to the trip), is far from leakproof.
Back at the casa particular, I hung my clothes and shoes out to dry (not raining anymore), and sat down to eat dinner, a giant portion of the wonderful Cuban rice/black beans combination followed by a lengthy conversation with my hostess and her sister, later joined by her husband, all while I was smoking my Cohiba siglo II. And when I say that a Cohiba is a strong cigar, you better believe it. I haven’t exactly got experience (my first time smoking… anything), that thing could almost make my eyes water and I did get rather dizzy; on my tour to the cigar factory, it did get explained how to smoke a cigar, so I wasn’t inhaling the smoke (my hostess, her sister and her husband helped me as well), but only keeping it in my mouth before blowing it out. Another problem is keeping the cigar alive, those things easily go out.
By the time I was done, it was quite late, and clearly bedtime, after a long day walking, and I do believe a cigar can tire a person easily.
26th of May:
I woke to the sound of salsa being played downstairs, and took a cold shower (no hot water), and as I sat down in the morning to write some postcards, the neighbour who works in the local cigar factory, showed me his giant collection of Cohibas, trying to sell me some at a favourable price. On the way back to Spain and Denmark, I am crossing through the United States, and I really don’t want to chance it, so I politely turned down his offers.
I had already seen most of Trinidad, but I had saved a few places of the historic town, as well as outside the historic town to stroll through today, but I didn’t find much picture material, except for a man sitting in the street with his rooster and his cane. So I bought a bucket of chocolate ice cream and watched some episodes of Futurama on my iPod. I also discovered that I needed some money, being almost out, and at the first bank I found, I was told that there is no ATM in Trinidad, it is impossible to get money with a VISA… However I had already bought my bus ticket and had just enough money for lunch, and the next destination is Santa Clara, a fairly big city (4 times the size of Trinidad), which should have an ATM.
So with my remaining money I found a very secretive pallador (very good, meaning it isn’t the regular tourist catching place), however my fish turned out to be quite tasteless, but the fried bananas were the best I have had on Cuba so far, and they be themselves justified the price for the entire meal. By now it started pouring down, just as heavily as the previous day, although a couple of hours earlier on this day; by my bus was leaving fairly soon, so I went back to my casa particular, packed my rucksack in its raincover, put on my rainjacket, and walked in the pouring rain to the busstation.
The busride isn’t that long in km, but the road is either unpaved or very bad on this particular stretch, so it takes quite some hours. As a preemptive move, I bought two sandwiches, and here the whole moneda naconal versus peso convertible come into play. Due to my money shortage, I only had moneda nacional left, and I was allowed to pay with those. The sandwiches cost 10 moneda nacional each (I had 2), but 2 peso convertible. For the 4 peso convertible two sandwiches cost (normally), I would have been able to buy 9 (and a half) sandwiches, some catch.
The bus was on time and left in the pouring rain, but after about 10 minutes or driving or so, the sun broke out and shone.
Arriving in Santa Clara, the city of “Che” (his monument and mausoleum is here, as this is the location where he won his most important battle), I was almost assaulted by casa owners, but found one I deemed good, and went there in a horse pulled carriage for hardly any money (a bicitaxi would be more expensive, which makes no sense). The owner (technically her sons own the casa) is a sweet red haired woman in her 60′s who talks very lively. Once settled in, I decided to walk to the busterminal to figure out a ticket to Habana, and on the way back eat dinner.
The last bus of the date I wanted is actually the day after, at 3.20 in the morning, that way I can take a taxi straight to the airport when I arrive at 7 in the morning, however it isn’t possible to buy a ticket, I have to go there at 2.20 in the night, to wait and hope for the best; the taxi from the busterminal works out at 25 CUC, quite a lot, but the airport is far outside the city, and with the busticket at 18 CUC, it is quite a high cost. When I left the terminal, a taxi driver offered his service, pickup at my casa at midnight, and a direct drive straight to the airport for 50 CUC, too much, so now with the ability to haggle a bit (I am REALLY ad at hagling), I ended up with a price of 40 CUC for the following midnight (between the 27th and 28th of May).
On the way back I stopped by La Concha restaurant, and had a wonderful meal and dessert for hardly any money. I caught a bicitaxi back to my casa and enjoyed sweet sweet sleep.
27th of May:
I woke up at 7 in the morning, hardly believing what had just happened, but after 2 hours of lingering I was fine with getting up, grabbed my stuff and after a quick shower went out to see Santa Clara. The supposedly best cigar factory in Cuba is in Santa Clara, so I went to take a tour, but I was sent to a faraway tour agency to buy the ticket, and then return. But due to one of the mainstreets being under construction, the one the tour agency is on, it took a very long time to find it. I eventually found it, bought a ticket and went back to the factory, where I waited for roughly 30-40 minutes before I was given a tour.
The factory is very different from the one in Habana. It was a lot more personal (I was the only person on the tour), and it seemed much more authentic.
Afterwards, I went to the spot that has made Santa Clara famous, the place where the last battle as fought, where Che Guevera derailed a train filled with 300 heavily armed Batista soldiers, and defeated them. There is a half hearted attempt at a museum made out of train wagons, but it isn’t all that much worth seeing, so I headed towards the “Che” mausoleum and museum, at the far end of Santa Clara. On top there is a giant Che statue which can be seen from far away, and not only is the museum fantastic, really world class, the mausoleum (with his remains together with those of 16 of his fellow soldiers that fell with him in Bolivia) is incredibly eerie. Camera’s aren’t allowed in the museum or mausoleum, just like it wasn’t allowed inside the cigar factory in Habana. In Habana we were told that it was because of the workers being annoyed, but in Santa Clara the explanation was that it was due to political reasons.
I then walked around to the other points of interest in the Lonely Planet book, although none of them were interesting in even the least, so I walked back to my casa particular and rested. I went downstairs (two floors) and talked with my kind hostess, who showed a particular interest in Denmark (her niece is studying in Denmark somehow), and our political system, as well as the economy, and anything I could possibly say about the country, I also asked her about the “periodo especial” (1990-1995), a time of severe food shortage in Cuba, as the USSR fell and the US passed the Torricelli act.
Just like in Trinidad, it just suddenly started pouring down, although this time the thunder was very close and VERY loud. It didn’t alarm me, but one year old Jonathan wasn’t happy, so Robin Hood was put on in Spanish, and we watched it together. My dinner wasn’t till 20, so I got rather hungry, but it was raining too much, I had gotten my shoes soaked just a few days before, and it is hell to get them dry again. So I soldiered it out, and when the dinner came on the table… My oh my. I suddenly realised why my kind hostess had such wanted to cook dinner for me the previous night. She simply just loves cooking, for tourists as me, she can cook food that she wouldn’t be able to cook for her family, maybe except for special occasions, and she is something of a cook. Tastiest rice, tastiest pork and tastiest potato soup I have ever had.
After dinner I finished watching Robin Hood with Jonathan, I packed my rucksack. The taxi wasn’t supposed to come before midnight, but around 22 o’clock, it rolled up, and the driver insisted that we leave. So I said goodbye, and walked out that door, towards my last moments in Cuba. After picking up another person, we started driving towards Aeropuerto Internacional Jose Marti, and what I remember is the lightning, it was still going off in the distance ahead of us, and while we were driving it slowly shifted to being on our right, before in the end being behind us, it was stunningly beautiful. I also remember the driver trying to smoke, but his two front windows couldn’t close, so he had to duck his head down below the dashboard and light a match (requires two hands), and try to turn on his cigarette; but the wind would still most often blow the match out, so it took several harrowing attempts, although luckily the highway was deserted, so nothing happened.
I didn’t sleep in the taxi, but that day, the 27th of May, was my last whole day in Cuba.
This entry was posted on Thursday, May 29th, 2008 at 06:41. It is filed under Cuba.
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