Steven’s Cuba Blog

Cuba Chronicles, Chapter Twelve

October 4, 2006 at 7:23 pm | In Trip Report, La Habana, Ciudad de La Habana |

PROCEEDS FROM PANDEMONIUM

Havana, Wednesday October 5th, 2005, 11pm

This is the last post in this series. Also, there are no photos in this post at the moment because I’m posting this directly from Cuba and I forgot my USB cable from my camera. I’ll update it with pics when I get back.

If you’re paying attention, you’ll have noticed that a lot of time has passed between the time stamps on this chronicle and the last; two weeks, to be precise. In those two weeks, I left Santiago de Cuba, retraced my steps to Trinidad, Cienfuegos, Santa Clara and Havana, and picked up some company along the way - all of which I’ll explain in this post.

On the frigid overnight bus from Santiago to Trinidad, I met two English tourists from London, Jasmin and Sarah. While we (and most everyone else) tried to sleep most of the way, we got to talking a little about our trips (they were only here for a week or two) and experiences around Cuba, which proved to be quite different from mine (as they would be for two attractive obviously foreign females). They apparently witnessed a bit more of the tougher side of Santiago than I had; they met someone who had their purse stolen. Other than that, they enjoyed the city and found it to be as lively as I did.

Off the bus early the following morning in Trinidad de Cuba, we parted ways after exchanging contact information. I headed back to Mercedes’ casa and promptly went to bed - I had gotten little to no real sleep on the crazily air-conditioned bus. Waking up around 2pm (hey, what? I’m on vacation, right?), I walked over to the ETECSA office across the street from the Parque, and posted some of the pics and a blog entry I had written in Santiago. Later that evening, I went to the Casa de la Musica and ran into Sarah and Jasmin again. We had some nice conversation and lots of fun sitting outdoors on the steps of the casa, watching the fantastic cuban dancers move their feet around like clockwork (and the somewhat not-so-fantastic foreigners move their feet around like ducks).

We walked the streets for a while until we quite literally lost ourselves, and at night the streets of Trinidad are not as well lit as in most other towns [read: not at all]. Without too much fuss we were able to find our way back to their place (and after I asked bemused strangers “Donde esta la Calle…” 3 times, Sarah finally had enough and decided to take it upon herself to properly teach me the difference between “ser” and “estar”).

I don’t make that mistake anymore.

Their casa was interesting in that they had a whole floor to themselves and could come and go in complete privacy as they pleased, although they had no access to their host’s actual home. That could be a good thing or a bad thing depending on who you ask, but they seemed to prefer my setup, where I shared Mercedes’ home with her family.

They were leaving the next day, so we arranged to go to the beach together and get some sun before they did. It was very hot, and I had biked like a bat out of hell all the way there behind their cocotaxi to prove to myself (them) that I could keep up with it (I couldn’t), so the moment my sweaty body hit the water everything else just disappeared. I do vaguely remember discussing the theological implications of different forms of time travel (unidirectional, bidirectional, multithreaded, etc) while looking like a moron running after a beach ball that kept slipping out of my hands. Good times. I did enjoy hanging out with them and they were gracious enough to spend some time with me and walk me around part of London a month later in November as I was passing through England.

The day after they left I also left Trinidad, and Mercedes’ Casa - a surprisingly sad moment for me. Surprisingly because, after all, they are running a business, and for all I know they treat all of their “clients” as well as they treated me. Sad because I did genuinely feel that they let me into their home as part of the family, and I got the chance to get to know each and every one of them. I spent more time there than anywhere else in Cuba, and that’s a testament to how much of a great time I had.

Next, a one-day stop in Cienfuegos led me to Bertha’s Casa, where the hosts Bertha and her husband were the perfect example of professional courtesy. Because I was only staying a night I didn’t get the chance to get to know them at all, but they were friendly to a fault, very interesting, professional and Bertha is a fantastic cook. I will definitely go back. The only (admittedly very minor) drawback is that it’s a bit further out from the city center than the previous casa I stayed at, but there are still lots of great sights nearby and I had no problems walking the 15 minutes from her house to downtown. The other great thing about their place was that it was in a very quiet and peaceful suburban neighborhood. All in all, highly recommended. I did actually head to the city center that night, but for reasons unknown there was barely anyone out. The clubs were empty and I returned home pretty quick.

On the bus from Cienfuegos to Santa Clara I met a lovely young woman from Holland, with whom I’d end up spending most of my remaining days in Cuba with. We split up for a while after the bus, and met up again at night in the Plaza. After a nice time in a nice club on the boulevard, we walked back to the casa… and she felt sick, then immediately fell asleep - courtesy of Havana Club and overly loud music.

We were both due for some beach time, so we agreed to spend a couple of nights in Varadero. We had some luck finding a decent, clean, inexpensive hotel (sans hot water) and spent a couple days lounging on the beach. I’m not really much into that, but after nearly two months of biking and exploring I have to admit that it did feel nice to just do nothing, lay on the sand and swim in what are some of the world’s best beach waters.

From Varadero, we arrived in Havana Vieja after a brief [rainy] stop in Matanzas, where I met the owner of the Casa my Dutch friend had stayed at previously, Ibis. Ibis’ home is very comfortable and clean, and I got along with her whole family extremely well. Every time I’ve been back in Havana since meeting her, I’ve never stayed at another Casa. It’s 2 blocks from Prado (”the main”) as well as a block away from the Malecon. Amazingly, it’s also the least expensive official Casa in Habana Vieja I’ve found. If you have any plans at all to stay in Havana, I strongly recommend staying at Ibis’ house:

/** (Plug)
Casa de Ibis
address: Genios #214 apt 2 e/ Industria y Consulado, Habana Vieja
phone: (07) 8662949
email: robertola@infomed.sld.cu
*/

Vinales was our next stop; though I unfortunately didn’t get to enjoy much of it. The day we arrived there I fell ill due to some food I ate from a street vendor (the only time this happened to me in Cuba - you can eat pretty much anything without danger, but stay away from egg, cheese and dairy when buying from a food stall that sells in Cuban pesos). I went for a brief walk with the Dutch girl, then promptly went to bed after eating very little. The next day, I felt like I had to leave. We were supposed to stay together here in Vinales a while longer, but a certain animosity came between us and we decided to part ways. I’ll spare you the details of why and how.

Back on the bus to Havana, I bought 3 latas of Tomato juice - the ultimate cure for whatever ails my stomach. Copious amounts of tomato juice, lemon juice, and a single Imodium later, I was feeling perfectly healthy again. After a couple more days in Havana, it was time to go.

I hadn’t used my bike in a couple days (for me, that’s an eternity), so I took advantage of the beautiful weather on my last day here and biked from Havana Vieja to the airport - about an hour’s worth. Even after all the time I had just spent in Cuba, I was still amazed at how safe it was to bike on the highways. The road to the airport - Rancho Boyeros - was packed with morning rush-hour traffic, but I never had to worry about them all the way to the airport. I got there fairly early, so I had plenty of time to carefully disassemble my bike and take a nap; my last in Cuba until nearly a year later.