23 November, 2011

Ottawa, Part 2

23 November, 2011
Blog for Ottawa:
This was to be an interlude. Five days away from home, at a hotel, and visiting a city which we enjoy, but had not explored a lot. And so it was.

On the Friday, November 18, we were driven to the Aldershot station by Richard, and got the GO to Union, waited briefly before boarding the train for Ottawa. The train itself was on time leaving, and we pulled out into a bright sunny day, for our trip through the Southern Ontario countryside, through Kingston, up to Smith Falls, and on to Ottawa. It was wonderful being in business class: we ate well, and had wine with our meal; lots of room for our legs; and large windows to look out from.

When we arrived in Ottawa, we decided to check with the ticket folks about our return ticket, and had wanted to upgrade to Business Class for that trip as well. The agent said he had some bad news: I had mistakenly booked the return ticket for the sae day and same time as the ticket to Ottawa! Oops. We had to call Customer Relations and hope they would correct this. And of course it was now the weekend. Nothing to do but get to our hotel. But from here, our luck changed.

On the way to the bus area, a woman helped us by telling us which bus to take, and directing us appropriately. The bus was quick to arrive, driven by a crusty middle-aged woman, who nonetheless ingratiated herself to us by announcing that seniors travelled free on Friday afternoons and evenings. And it got us to within a block of our hotel.

That night we walked over to Elgin Street and found a place called the Fresco Bistro Italiano, where wer had a delightful, although noisy, meal. Home to bed.

The next day, we were not in a rush to get out early. Darlene was of course up earlier than I, and out for an exploratory walk. We decided to head off to the Museum of Civilization, but first went to the Byward Market area (it being Saturday). Lovely to see some farmers still there, bravely displaying their wares, along with several other venders. We had a brief and not very good breakfast, looked around, and then walked slowly through the now-upscale area, to the Alexandra bridge, walked across it to the Museum.

And what a wonderful way to spend our tax dollars. the Museum was intoxicatingly interesting. We went through the First Peoples Gallery, then through the Canada Gallery, and then to the IMAX theatre to watch a film on the raising of orphaned elephants and orang-utans. And by then we were tired, and it was dark, and we went back to the Market to have an early supper at the Vittoria Trattoria, again Italian and again good. Another early bedtime, after more than 12,000 steps.

Sunday was also bright and sunny, but colder. We had decided to go that day to the National Art Gallery, after a leisurely morning spent mostly in our room at the hotel. Darlene had been nice enough to go out for coffees and some food, so we ate in the room before leaving on our trip to the Art Gallery. We toured the older European art, some of the Asian (mostly Indian), and finally the Canadian art. After three hours, we were tired again, and went back to our hotel via the National Art Centre. We had thought that we would get rush tickets to a play there, but the cheapest ones were still almost $40 each, so went back to the room to read and watch TV. Out for supper at the Johnny Farina restaurant, a serious mistake, but at least it was quiet.

Now Monday was a day to remember. Darlene had a surprise up her sleeve. After we walked down towards and along Sparks Street, partly to explore and partly to find out where the CBC offices were, she reneged and told me she had set up for us to visit the studio of the CBC show “Tempo”, which I love, and which is broadcast out of Ottawa with the host Julie Nesrallah. Good thing she had set it up, since I was too shy to just go in and ask. But the producer came out and led us into the studio, and we were able to spend about thirty minutes with Julie and her two co-workers, watching the show going live, and talking about the challenges and rewards of doing the show. It was wonderful meeting them: they are genuinely nice people, working to produce a quality show.


After that, one would have thought the rest of the day would be anti-climactic. But no, it was also very good. This being Monday, many places were closed. But the War Museum was open, so we decided to go there (some comments about war never sleeping...?). It was with some trepidation, since we are both confirmed pacifists. But the show was terrific. It talked about how war has always been a part of the landscape in our country, throughout its history, and contributing to its history. And the effects of war on the peoples of the countries affected by it. With the exception of the WW2 timespan, I found it remarkably balanced in its outlook, and surprising in its representation of the Peace Movements. Moving experience all around. And again, as with the other museums, a much easier time with many fewer “tourists”.

The day had been full, and it was dark,but clear. We wlked back to the hotel, and Darlene kindly went out and got some food for supper to eat in our room, while I slept briefly.

Tuesday was our final day here in Ottawa, and we had a few things we thought we might do. We were “museumed” out, so decided to walk back to the Market, via the Houses of Parliament. We went for a tour of the Parliament Building (too short, but still exciting, especially the Library and the Peace Towers. And we sat in the Public Gallery for about a half hour. (Somewhat to my surprise, there was also a family there from Dundas, who were related to a former patient of mine.) With the weather being cold, but clear again (we were really lucky), we could see a long way from the Tower, getting a good oversight of Ottawa.

When we left the Building, we went to the statue of the five “Women are Persons”, just next to the Parliament, and then went over to a restaurant I had remembered from twenty years previously, called “Santé”. there we had a wonderful and decadent meal, overlooking Rideau Street and the bustling crown, again with relatively few people around us. It was fantastic, and we vowed to come back.

And what can you do after that? well, we went over to the Chateau Laurier, looked around for a while before going into Zoe’s for a drink in High Company. And again, back to our room.

Today, Wednesday, again things have gone well. There was some snow in Ottawa overnight, which made some things a bit more complicated. But we got out to Dunn’s for breakfast, the packed and left the hotel. We went to buy tickets for our bus ride back to the Train station, only to discover that the other day for Seniors to have free transport is Wednesday. So we got the free ride to Via, all of nine minutes worth. And our ticket mess was already cleaned up by Customer Service by the time we got to the station.

So we’re on our way back home, after a serendipitous, restful, and refreshing trip to Ottawa. We’ll do it again.

22 November, 2011

Trip to Ottawa

We decided to have a mini-vacation in November. Mexico would have been warm and probably sunny, but it was expensive, and the hurricanes were still a possibility. So we looked elsewhere, and Ottawa was a place I had wanted to go back to. So here we are.

...And we could take the train from Burlington!

So we booked, and splurged and got business class on the way up. What a pleasure after flying: large seat with lots of leg room, meals that taste good with real silverware. And wine if we wanted (we did). How civilized.

And our package included entrances to several museums. Museum of Civilization, the National Art Gallery, the Museum of Nature, and the War Museum. How could we go wrong?

After arriving, went over to the bus area. A kindly strange asked if we needed help and told us which bus would get us downtown. When we got on it, we found out that Friday evenings are free for Seniors. We like Ottawa. Got to the hotel, checked in, and went out for supper, at a fairly local restaurant called the Fresco Bistro Italiano. Dinner was good, and the place was noisy, so it was nice to leave and get back to the hotel afterwards. Lots of sleep for the next day's adventures.

The next morning, Darlene was up earlier than I, as usual. I finally roused, and we got going, in the mid-morning. We walked down to the Byward Market, looked around, and then went into a little coffee shop for some breakfast. Good coffee, bad breakfast. But in the market building, I got some bagels, and then we took off to the Museum of Civilization in Gatineau. This turned out to be a wonderful surprise. After looking through the First Peoples exhibit, we went to the Canada Pavilion, and it was wonderful, full of good planning and amazing details. And after that, we watched a 3D film on saving orphaned baby elephants and orangutans. Also amazing.

Supper, always important, was at the Vittoria Trattoria, also quite pleasant. An early supper and an early back to room experience.

Sunday was the Art Gallery, and after a lazy morning we wound our way down there for a second museum day. Looking at art can be particularly tiring, and we found that the hours was about enough for us. I had to have a little nap before supper, and we went for our third Italian-themed dinner, at Johnny Farina's. A generally bad meal, and then to bed.

Today was Monday, and the only museum open was the War Museum, so that was where we went. We went with some trepidation, since we are both pretty confirmed pacifists.

But let me back up. Before that happened, I was the surprised recipient of a plan concocted by Darlene to meet one of my wishes. I have for a long time been a fan of "Tempo" on CBC Radio. And she had arranged that we meet up with Julie Nesrallah, the host, and watch a part of her daily show. It was terrific, and she was terrific. Not just a good voice and a pretty face, but a nice person as well. We were both impressed and enthralled, and spent more time than we had planned. What a great surprise!

Then on to the Museum.


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Location:Ottawa Road 36,Ottawa,Canada

07 August, 2011

Travel Home

The trip home was not its own reward. While getting to the airport was easy, and checking in was pretty easy, the trip was long and a bit uncomfortable.

And, to top it off, it turned out that St. John's (where we were supposed to land for a five-hour hiatus) was severely fogged in (and the temperature was only 12 degrees as well), and we counldn't land there. So we were re-routed to Halifax, amid a lot of confusion at the airport as well. They staff there were run off their feet, since all flights to and from were cancelled, so there was a lot of rebooking.

We managed to get a series of flights through Ottawa and on to Toronto, and actually arrived an hour earlier than we had thought. So got home about midnight, after almost 24 hours of being up.

Sigh. But a good vacation nonetheless. And many happy memories.


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Location:Dundas

Back in Britain, August 1-4

Our time back with Dan has been good, with a lot of rambling.

Our first full day, we went back to Covent Garden for a re-look (and some breakfast), then walked over to St. Martin in the Fields, to see what was going on there, and to listen to a free lunch-time concert. The church was magnificent (the picture does not do it justice), and the concert was good.


The important thing was that we learned as well about a concert that evening, also at the church. A pianist playing, among other things, the Moonlight Sonata, and Clair de Lune. So that made our evening also very good. We spent the afternoon (what was left of it) walking towards the British Museum, and of course stopping for a beer along the way. Once again, the weather was in our favour. Dan did not join us, so we didn't see him until we got home at the end of the day.

Then, Wednesday, we again spent a bit of time getting organized before going out, then went up to Streatham Hill Road for breakfast, stopping at a local patisserie for a few delicasies, then crossing the road for a sit-down coffee, and sweets. Then off on the bus/railway to visit Hampton Court Palace, known for its connection to Henry VIII, and his wives. But also known for the renovations done under William and Mary. The day was sunny and warm, and the grounds were spectacular, the castle magnificent in all its opulence and extravagance.



We enjoyed the tour of the kitchens, the Royal Suite from Henry's days, and the Chapel Royal. Then went to the Cafe for a bite, and then finally to the Maze to get lost briefly before they closed the place. And we even ran into King Henry along with Katherine!



That evening, Darlene took the opportunity to go to a local Quaker meeting down near the St Martin in the Fields Church. I decided to go and meet Dan in Guildford, and he and I went out in that nice smaller town to a Thai restaurant at the top of a local building, where we watched the sun go down and enjoyed a very pleasant meal. We got home about the same time as Darlene, who had wandered about Trafalgar Square a bit before catching the bus home (a trip which she enjoyed a lot).

Our final full day was rainy. We ended up going back to bed and sleeping the morning away, then headed back downtown, this time by bus. A coffee (obligatory), and a tour through Trafalgar Square to see Nelson's Column and its lions, along with a boat-in-a-bottle of Nelson's ship.



Decided to go to the National Gallery (remember, all admission to museums like this are free), and looked at some wonderful artwork. Then met Dan after his work, walked around a bit through Soho and the West End Theatre District, found a little restaurant with a solemn waiter, and ate before returning home.

In spite of being tired, we stayued up on our last night to pack and talk with Dan, then tumbled into bed.

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Location:Lambeth, London

04 August, 2011

August 1, Travel Day

This day was a full travel day, all by train. And it began early.

We got up at 4:30, catching the S-Bahn at 5:15 to the Munich Hautbanhaus, where we arrived in pretty good time, and bought some food before getting on the train which would take us to Paris. This was a TGV train, and seats were assigned. And we were lucky that for about half of it, we had two seats each.

As we travelled West, we crossed flat farmland, then into the hilly areas of Germany, before crossing the Rhine into France at Strasbourg. We had already gone through Ausburg and Stuttgart, and had now left Germany. A pretty country indeed, with towns and cities having their own beauty.

But France seemed immediately different. I am not sure I can describe the difference, but it felt different. Perhaps that's my old prejudice speaking, but there it is. We travelled quite fast through France to arrive in Paris a few minutes late. However, I was reassured to learn that the distance between the Gare de l'Est and the Gare du Nord was not great, and very walkable. So when we arrived, we got outside and walked to a local cafe for a lunch. Absolutely enjoyable, and much appreciated.



Walking to the Gare du Nord took only about fifteen minutes, but we had more difficulty than expected finding our train, and how to get on it. After some looking, we discovered the train, and were sitting there for a while before we realized that we had to go through a customs thing before getting on, and heard the announcement that this area was closing in a few minutes. Fortunately, one of the guards rushed us through, and we got on the train with about two minutes to spare, after great rushing.

This was also a TGV, travelling through the French countryside, and then through the tunnel to England. It was all fairly anticlimactic after all, but I'm still glad we did it. Arrived at St. Pancras Station, and then got to Dan's house about the time he arived.

We went out for supper that night, to a little restaurant in Balham. The walk was long, and the meal was good.


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Location:various

Dachau

The second day we had decided to go to Dachau, which is just outside of Munich, and pretty easy to get to by public transit. And while we were not sure how we would react to the actual place, it called us and we went. The getting there was easy with the S-bahn. This dropped us in the centre of the town of Dachau. We had lunch there at a local hotel (and lunch in this part of the world is the main meal of the day. So we were full, when we caught the bus to the Concentration Camp Memorial. And the weather was dark, appropriately.




The Memorial is free admission, and they have used the actual admission buildings for the museum, and have also re-constructed a barracks in the fashion that it existed in WW2. The crematorium also still exists. And there are several monuments set up by various churches and synagogues to the victims of the camp. The rest of the area has pretty well been levelled. Interestingly, they have left areas of the barbed wire around the perimeter.

The exhibits were exceptionally good. The story is horrible, and the results obviously beyond comprehension, much less acceptance. The history leading up to the establishment of the camp, the social and political events preceding the rise of fascism, were all explained fairly and openly. The explanations of the groups singled out (and why they were singled out) were well-presented and accompanied by recording from survivors.

The actual facts of what went on in the camp was by its nature horrible. The degrees of torture, the work, the underground organising, the deaths, and finally the liberation of the camp all were there in full detail. And we began with a film about the camp, which set the mood for the rest.



There was more than we could absorb, and to say it was sombre would be to understate the obvious. The additional pathetic fallacy of a dark, forboding thunderstorm only added to the drama. We of course left too little time.

After that, we went back into the main old part of the town, and explored the Rathaus (Town Hall), the old square, and some of the older streets, before heading back home, again for a later eating time and talk with Ben and Jutta.

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Location:Dachau, Germany

Munich, July 27-31

Getting here was not half the fun. EasyJet is a budget airline, and even though it was not exactly "budget", it crammed and pushed us, and gave us very little. But it did get us to Germany almost on time. And the flight was fine.

Ben was there waiting for us, as promised, and we rode in his VW van back to their place in Eichenau. We got there late, so did not spend a lot of time catching up, just enough to get a grounding for the next few days. Their place is at the end of a road, a road named for their house, and to get to the train, you walk through a patch of forest and onto the town streets.

A bit of time talking before going off to bed. We were promised an early wake from the two boys in the morning.

And we got it. Although Darlene was up and out of the house for a stroll by six, I of course slept in until later, so didn't get to meet the boys until night time. We had arranged to meet Ben at his Google office for lunch, so that gave us a scheduling starting point at least, and it looked like we would get into Munich and spend the day sort of wandering. But ofcourse it was a slower start for us than we had anticipated, and it was almost eleven by the time we left the house. Off to the train station, tried to figure out how to buy a ticket through their machines, and waited for the S4 train to the centre of town. I was astonished by the number of bicycles there were at the station, and the infrastructure set up to handle them.


The train takes only about fifteen minutes to get to town, and so we arrived at Marienplatz station, eventually found the exit we were looking for, and started our search. Between Darlene's partial memory of what we had discussed with Ben, and mine, we were able to actually find the Google offices at first attempt. Signed ourselves into their computer, and were met by Ben. And what an office it is. Lots of activity, most of it quiet (they are programming, and this does not require a lot of noise), places for work which are airy and bright. And of course the perks: snacks all around; rooms for games; cafeteria with real food; room for massage therapy: all included in their work environment. It is a place in which it would be a joy to work.


Then off exploring the area. We tried to get some information at the Tourist Centre, but it was too crowded with tourists, so we went elsewhere. We walked down the street towards Karlsplatz, from the Neues Rathaus (the new City hall, which was built in 1867), to the large fountain at Karlsplatz, stopping at the Frauenkirche as well. In the middle of this, the skies opened, so we ducked into a wine bar for a short interlude. Back to the Hauptbahnhof (central train station) to check on our leaving location for Monday, then we caught a random tram (really the kind of LRT that Hamilton is balking at) and followed it to the end, then back again. Just to see the city from a different level. And to use our daily pass better. (a word here: they charge about 12 Euros for a pass for five adults for twenty-four hours, rarely check to see that you have it, and it allows use of any train, tram, subway, or bus in the Munich area: a great idea)

Home for a late snack and some talk with Ben and Jutta, then to bed. The morning, as usual, begins with Dylan about 7 AM. He is 2-1/2, bright, joyful, bilingual, and comes down the stairs saying in a loud voice "Darlene...where's Darlene?". So sleeping in is difficult. Darlene is up, but I try to sleep, Dylan and Ben come in to check that I am still there, so I get up.

The next day we went to Dachau, and this was eventful enough I have done a separate entry.

The following day, Saturday, we decided to go together to the Zoo. The kids had been there before, but liked it a lot, and we were all interested as adults as well.

The trip and the zoo was great. We all bundled up (it was cool outside, and cloudy), got on the S4, transferred to the S3, and got off at the Zoo, ready for adventure. The kids were excited (Jason is 4+, Dylan is 2-1/2).


First stop had to be a bathroom, and after that a petting zoo with goats in it. Then off to see the elk, the rhino (a grey-brown one without a horn[it had to be severed due to infection]), the tigers. Then to the bat house, interesting because the bats were allowed to fly anywhere they wished, so they were fluttering about our heads. Also a bird house, where we watched weavers building their nests.

We saw the elephants, complete with a three-month baby, and the giraffes, where there was a one-year infant.

And finally to the primate area, where there were chimps, bonobos, gorillas, oragutangs, all in appropriate areas. And the chimps would get mad at times, and throw themselves agsinst the protective glass, with a loud bang.
Probably the most exciting for us, watching their interactions, and their tempers.


After a tiring time walking around the area, we headed back home. The adults were ready for an afternoon nap, but the kids were wired, so our plan didn't happen. But we did engineer a children's supper, followed by an adult supper.

Our last day in Munich—Sunday— required us to visit a beer hall, which we had not yet done. In Munich, beer halls are open to adults and children. People can, by law, bring their own food if they wish, but have to buy their drinks at the hall. And since this day was a sunny day, there were a lot of people there, outdoors at tables, eating away and drinking their beer in the beer garden. We had fish-on-a-stick (a mackerel rosted over a fire), some chicken, and of course a pretzel, as well as the beer. It was great.

But it was early to bed, since we had to get up at 4:30 to catch our train to Munich for the TGV to Paris.

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Location:Munich

Llandudno, July 25, 26

Right after breakfast (another English breakfast: how do those Brits live past 40 years with all that fat and so forth?), we got a cab to the train station (for three pounds), and waited for the train to Llandudno. While the car trip is only about thirty minutes, the train stops in several places, and takes twice as long. But it was worth it: views of the sea, long beaches, beautiful countrysides. And then we were there. The directions to the B&B were easy, and we got there in good time.

The B&B - Walstall House - was not our finest choice. They put us in an ordinary room on the third floor, were quite curt, not too helpful. We had gotten used to the fact that there are no facecloths provided in the UK or Europe, but this place also did not provide soap or shampoo. Hopefully, we wouldn't spend a lot of time in the room anyways, so it wasn't a big concern, but still an annoyance.

We went walking, partly to find the restaurant we had had recommended by our hosts in Chester's Blue Moon cafe, and partly just to get the lay of the land. We knew we wanted to take the tramway to the top of the Great Orme, and we wanted to walk the Pier. So we did both these things, under a fairly bright sky with a bit of wind. Of course, up on the Orme, although it is only about 600 metres, it was very windy, and even cold. As nice as it was, there was a pleasure in getting back into the valley and the coastline.


And the walk along the coastline, bay area, was wonderful. There is a long Promenade there, going about a kilometre, with terrace buildings along it. The main part of the town was purpose-built by a wealthy landowner (who benefitted greatly from the Enclosures Act) in the early 1800's, as a tourist/vacation area. But at least it was well-designed, and the architecture is very pleasant, albeit pretty uniform. So we enjoyed the walk, and were ready for our meal when the time for dinner came.

Dinner at the Seahorse was exquisite, tasty, not-too-expensive, and over too soon. Then back via the seashore again, to our B&B for an attempt at watching the news, before turning in again.

The next day we had a Welsh Breakfast (seems about the same as a British one), and headed off walking again. Our train to London didn't leave until 2 PM, so we had the morning to read, walk, get a coffee, and try for Darlene to get a check on her phone messages. For this latter, we had to join the Llandudno Library, so I now am a card-carrying member of that august establishment (it is really quite a nice place).

Then the train, tube, and bus to get to Dan's place, by which time we were all too tired to go out for his birthday. We ordered in curry-style dishes (here they will deliver wine or beer with your meal as well as the food), ate too much, and tumbled into bed.


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Location:North Wales

30 July, 2011

Chester, July 23-24

After another breakfast without the kids, this time at the Caffe Nero, again with Anastasia, we were ready to head off on our next leg of the journey, to Chester. Fond farewells to Electra and Anastasia, with the hope we might get up to Birmingham later in our time here. Then off to the train station.

This time we got a seat, even together. So it was a more pleasant ride, and only just over an hour to get to the town of Chester. I believe we had been to the train station before, and switched trains at that point. But this time, we exited the station, got the local bus into town, and then walked to the B & B, where we met Jean (the mother of Jane, who was in Spain), and were shown our room. A lovely older house, built in 1836, and modernized for now. Our room overlooks the Dee River, with the sculls going back and forth, as well as the tour boats. A walk through the old town, magnificent even as it is touristy, on cobbled streets closed to cars, with architecture going back to Tudor times still extant in places (and the interspersed shopping malls). We decided to go to Evensong at the Cathedral, and it was very exciting. This cathedral goes back about 900 years in parts, but has amazing gardens and a pleasant close.



On the recommendation of our hosts we got supper at the Bistro Bleu (or Blue Moon, as it is known until suppertime). This restaurant is owned by a gay couple around sixty years old. We met Philip at lunch, asked for an evening reservation, and ended up talking about him and his health problems, and where to eat in Llandudnow, and so on. He promised, and delivered, a window seat at supper, and his partner David served us a delicious meal, and so we became "friends", or at least friendly. And we have a recommendation for a restaurant in our next place, which we will use to good effect. We were both tired after supper, and retired to our room shortly after dinner, Darlene falling asleep almost immediately, and I staying up to write this blog and read a bit.

Sunday in Chester, Darlene was up early and walked to the east, finding a field with cows grazing in it (and thus amplifying our image of the archetypical British town). After an English breakfast, we had to walk to get the fats digested. So we went into town, and Darlene found the Quaker Meeting House for her service, while I looked for a WiFi zone for my form of religion. Hers was more easily served than was mine, but we both got by. And met about noon, then spent the afternoon also walking around town, and around the walls of the city, before going to an Inn for a traditional Sunday dinner of beef, Yorkshire pudding, potatoes, and some veggies.



We're now back in our room again, and contemplating whether to go out again, or retire as we did yesterday. Tomorrow we are off to Llandudno on the morning train. If the weather stays sunny and clear, as it was today, we will be blessed.


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Location:Chester

England Number One, July 20-23

We are now about four days into our trip here, and I am just now getting down to actually writing anything about it. So let me go back to the start....

Our first night (at the Best Western) was what you would expect: a hotel, and pretty predictable and standard. Lots of people busy with their travel plans, and nothing too personal. But we were on our way, and England was not that far, at least temporally.

Wednesday morning, we were taken to the airport, joined the line of about two hundred fellow travellers, and waited. The wonderful lady from Air Canada came along and asked if there was anyone for London Heathrow, so we got to "jump" the queue, and got through that part of it pretty well. Off through security, and I was stopped because the metal ring on my Tilley shorts set off the alarm. As a consequence, there is a picture of me, in total body scan, somewhere in the RCMP archives. As Dan says, that should convince them not to do that kind of scanning.

Plane was half-full at most, and quite comfortable (surprise!). The trip across was actually not too bad at all, certainly a better way to go than the overnight flight. And arriving in London at 9 PM was just about right.

Unfortunately, our pre-arranged taxi was not there as he was supposed to be. And of course, I was dressed for the 34-degree Toronto weather rather than the 16-degree London weather, so was a bit chilly by the time the taxi finally showed up twenty minutes later. And then the driver decided to try and make up for those twenty minutes by driving like a madman to Dan's house, with me in the front passenger seat clutching the seat cushion, and working to control my anxiety ("He must know what he's doing, he's a taxi driver..."). We got to Dan's about 11, and I went to bed shortly after that.

Next day, after breakfast we walked to the High Street (the commercial street), to get a coffee, and get a Sim card for my phone. Successful on both counts. The street was not as nice as the one near where Dan lived in Putney, but it was fine overall, and we walked back to the apartment satisfied. We were to leave for Manchester that evening, since Dan had to work that day.

You forget (or we forgot) how big London actually is. We ended up taking a cab to the station, and it still took almost an hour to get there, even though both Dan's place and the station are in what could be considered the main part of London. But we got there, got onto the train, and squeezed ourelves into a seat.

(The trains in England have a strange pricing system to me. They charge about three times as much for a "prime-time" ticket, as opposed to one out of this time. And the return ticket is only a pound more than the one-way ticket. So if anyone wants to go one-way from Manchester to London, let me know: I have an extra ticket available for a very good price.)

Our time in Manchester was of course the main reason for being here: Daniel was getting his PhD on Friday, the 22nd of July. We have been so proud of all he has done, and needed to see this wonderful event, capping off his academic career.

It didn't hurt that we also like Manchester a lot as a city. And that it would give us time again to be with Electra, and her mother, Anastasia. We met them at the Palace Hotel, where we were staying as well, and shared a small conversation before settling into our room and bed the night before Dan's Convocation. And we set up a breakfast together with Anastasia (since we get up at least two hours earlier than Dan and Electra do). Dan says it kind of "weirds him out" to think that we might get to know Electra's mother better, but we like her and haven't had a chance to talk with her since Electra's diagnosis of leukemia.

Friday was the big day. After Darlene, Anastasia and I had our long and pretty horrible breakfast at a fast-English-food place, we got back to the hotel, met with Dan and Electra, and went up to the University. Lots of hurry-up-and-wait, Dan lining up to get his gown, then lining up for a picture, then waiting until the time to go into the hall, then waiting for the ceremony to begin. The hall itself - Whitworth Hall - is about 120 years old, quite ornate, and a splendid venue for this ceremony. People of all cultural backgrounds were graduating, and their families were there with miultiple cameras, so lots of activity.



The ceremony itself was as expected, and quite nice. Of course, Dan's part was the best part, and mercifully there were not too many people graduating. And it was over in 90 minutes, then outside for socializing and photos. The sun even came out for the occasion. But it was cool; strange to see people with fall coats on at the end of July.

After some to-and-fro'ing, we decided on a local red meat place for a celebratory supper, and all went off for a good meal before bed.
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31 January, 2011

Our Day in and out of Havana

We were to go to the east of Havana to a place called the "Escalaros de Jaruco". Danny had billed this as one of his favorite rides, and we could see why. It was also neat, since we picked up Danny at his home, and his wife and three daughters and one neice came along with us.

The ride itself was, as usual, partly uphill and partly downhill. There was one killer hill, but the rest was easily manageable. Over the 43 Km, we went through some forest, some fields, some towns. Quite varied scenery.


We also stopped for juice and coffee at El Arabe, and mountain-top area Castro built in 1974 with the help of Libyan financiers, for the Cubans (and likely himself). Gorgeous views of the surrounding country and out to the Atlantic.


Then downhill, as I said, through some of the towns and out to our stop in Guanabo for a pizza lunch which was hard to beat. After that, back to Havana, to the Revolution Square,


and then Central Havana before getting back to the hotel.

Supper tonight was out at the best state-owned restaurant in Havana: La Guarida. And it vertainly lived up to its reputation. the restaurant itself is on the third floor of a derelict building, so you go up two flights which are rather nondescript and a bit worrying, then get to the place itself, which is awesome. Hard to believe that this si the same type of ownership as the pplace the night before, where the service was mediocre at best. This was exceptional: the food was terrific, the service was terrific, the venue was great. Some of the folks staying on are going back for more tomorrow night.

Now I'm back at the hotel, having given our good-bye's and ready for bed. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.

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Location:Havana

January 28, Back to Havana

Our second-last day. It seems hard to believe.We were promised, and got, a flat road from just outside Cienfuegos all the way to Playa de Girón in the Bay of Pigs.. Today is the 28th, also a holiday in Cienfuegos because it has to do with josé Marti. So we had to manoeuver the bus around a bit to get past the planned parade. But the we got to the place where wer were to start biking. Road was bad, but clouds few, temperature mid-20s, and wind negligible.so we were happy.

The towns we biked through seemed to be relatively new and well-maintained; we learned later that this had to do with the hurricane whch had destroyed many homes, so the government had to come in and rebuild.

We stopped for lunch and some free time at "Corteda Buena" (beautiful cove). And we soon learned why. The sea was wonderful, and I went swimming with a mask to watch the fish as I swam around. the water was warm and salty: so much so that I couldn't dive at all. It was great.



We had then a two plus hour drive to Havana, along their National Road, which is four lanes, smetimes six, and not at all busy. I read and slept.

Staying at the Armadores de Santadander, a hotel in Old Havana, right on the Alameda de Paula, near the Plaza Vieja. A wonderful old place: our room has 20-foot ceilings, an anteroom as well as a bathroom (with bidet)


and pretty modern fixtures. Of course, this being Cuba, there was a small problem: the toilet did not flush. But Gary and I figured a fix for that, so we're golden for now.

Tonight was supper at a state restaurant in Havana, with lots of meat, and some veggies as well. I'm bushed, so going to bed now.


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Location:Havana

A Day at the Lake

After a later breakfast, we went on the bus a ways out of Cienfuegos to the Botanical Gardens, where we were given a tour by one of the workers there (a man with a degree in botany), of some of the plants among the thousands of different ones there. They have many kinds of bamboo (not native, but growing in Cuba), and banyan tree (again, not native),


a relative of the boabab tree, which is native, and some others as well. While I loved it, and found it interesting, I won't remember much beyond a few days from now.

We then got into the bus and travelled uphill to Habanavilla, a hotel built by Castro for the 20th anniversary of Moncado, and still used mostly by Cubans. This is on a large lake formed by damming the rio Negro (the dam is also a hydro project, one of the few in Cuba). We took a boat down the lake to a place where they have a Cuban-style lunch, which I enjoyed: pork, beans and rice, squash, and of course a cabbage-and-tomato salad. there was also lots of avocado—delicious! I spent a lot of time talking with John, who works in addictions in the US.



Then it was the ride back, on bike. Much was downhill, but a lot of the 58 km seemed to be uphill as well. And I got a piece of wire caught in my derailler, which slowed me for a while.

Supper soon, we hope at the Castle.We actually got to eat at the castle, having lobster served by the most bored waiters I have ever seen, and serenaded by a lady who sang off-key and played a piano which had not ben tuned for many years. She was awful, and then had the gall to come around and try to sell a CD of her songs.

After a tour of the building (and after dinner, of course), we went back to the hotel, and there was a a capella choir singing in the lobby. Thye were terrific. A thrill for me was when they sang one of the songs I sing with the Dofasco group. I bought their CD.

Then to bed.


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Location:Cienfuegos

January 26, out of Trinidad

Today was meant to be a gentle ride along the south coast from our hotel to Cienfuegos. After a quick breakfast, we left the hotel at 8:15, and proceeded along an old road along the coast. Many vistas of the ocean, some sandy amd some rocky beaches, past a few small towns, and over several rivers, to an area just to the east of Cienfuegos. The road ws paved and smooth, and fairly flat. The day was sunny, hot but not dreadful. And the wind was light and behind us. It was glorious, and we did overall 72 km.

When we got into Cienfuegos, our first stop was at an old Yacht club for a lunch. This was delightful as well, and the Club was in a grandiose pre-Revolutionary building.


We then went into the town itself, and toured on foot the wonderful architecture of the town. Including the magnificent old Teatro.



Then back to where lunch had been, to check into the hotel next door. this was also built pre-Revolution, by Batista's brother, and is quite grand. A decided improvement over the previous one.

We just got back from a cruise of the large, calm Cienfuegos Harbour, at sunset. This was pretty special as well.But after supper tonight, we are promised as well to go to a lopcal baseball game between the two best teams in Cuba. Even I can get excited about that.

(after the game) Supper had been planned to be at an old castle in the area, but they (the authroities) put off our reservation by an hour without telling us, so we ate at the hotel. And, as we said, we went to a ball game. What a treat, and I'm not a baseball fan. After we paid our $1 (!) fee to get in, we went to our seats right behind home plate, and settled in.


The energy and the noise reminded me of what I imagine the World Cup games were like. There was always noise going on, and when the home team got a run, the place went wild. Teams seemed to be uneven at first, with at 2-0 score after two innings, but the other team caught up by the end of the fifth.

Around the time of the 8th inning, fog rolled in from the sea nearby, and the game was called. Just as well for José, our guide, since he had bet a bottle of rum with the bus-drivers over the outcome, and it looked like he might lose.

It was a late night, but we were happy.
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A Day in Trinidad

We had plans for today, but like all plans in Cuba, there are complications. we thought, after brekfast, we might take the old tourist train (a steam engine saved from the 1950's) up the "Sugar Valley" to the old sugar mill. But it was not running, so we did a tour of Trinidad instead. This is a very well-preserved classical city, and one which is clearly used to having tourists.


There are many museums and gift shops, as well as flea markets set up for visitors. And there is much to sell: this area makes fine embroidered cotton, as well as having a thriving art community, with both painters and carvers.

The tour took us a few hours, and the we all got back into the bus to drive to the old sugar mill we had not been able to train to. Here was more tourist material, which we looked at, before getting on the bikes to pedal back the 24 km to our hotel. the weather turned hot and windy, and the wind was in our face, unfortunately. so we were glad to get back to the hotel.

Lunch at the feeding trough/buffet, a coffee on the terraza, and then a snooze before supper. We have set up to eat at a "paladar" this evening, in Trinidad. the four of us, plus Jeremy and Ron. It should be better than the restaurants here.

We will then meet the group who are coming in for some outdoor music tonight. It will be good, albeit a bit later than I have gotten used to.

So we had agreed to meet for supper at about 7. All day long there had been taxis at the front walkway awaiting passengers, but of course when we wanted one, it was not to be found. We talked with one of the hotel employees, and they said that they would get a taxi for us. And after about fifteen minutes, a man came up to us and asked us if we were the ones looking for a ride to Trinidad. We said yes, he quoted us a price, and we agreed. He then told us that he had only one car, and we would have to fit into that.

And so began our evening adventure. The car turned out to be, likely, one of the tourist rental cars, and the guy was probably the rental agency rep. It was the size of a Toyota Corolla. And there were six of us, plus the driver. So Jeremy, the tallest of us, got the front seat, pulled up as far as it would go. Ron, Gary, and myself sat in the back seat. Barry sat on GFary's lap, inbetween the two front seats. And Brendan sat on top of Ron, with his head and upper body out thye back window. God know how many laws we were breaking, but I do know that it was cramped, none of us had belts on, and the driver took the long and dark way into town, to avoid the police.

We finally got into the centre of town, where we had been during the day. Barry knew the way to the paladar, and we were greeted there as friends (we had made a reservation before, on the recommndation of a shopkeeper Barry had talked to). this place was in a private home (the bedroom was off one part of the dining area). There was seating for about twenty, most ly in the courtyard of the house. It turned out the chef was in fact an ENT surgeon, who had trained as a Family Doctor initially, then went back to school to become an intensivist, and after being sent to Venezuela for a few years, came back and went into ENT. But he preferred to cook. And his wife was a nurse, when she wasn't serving tables.

Food was excellent: local snapper, rice, veggies, a salad, a cocktail (I had one made from a sugar cane lquor sweetened with honey, and served on ice: it was very good). We had a bottle of wine as well, and the overall price was 15 CUC's altogether (18 with tip). this is per person, but was I think a good deal.

By 9:30, we were ready to leave and go and meet the others from our group who had come into town for some music.


The town has nightly music on the large steps beside the main cathedral, this night a Cuban band playing salsa and cha-cha, mostly modern music. the place was hopping, literally in that many people were dancing. It was very good. But I was ready to go by 11, and we got home and to bed in fair time, given that we needed to get up the next morning early to begin riding.

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Location:Trinidad

the South Coast

Today, perhaps like most days, had both quite good and quite bad aspects. We woke up in this gorgeous hotel in Sancti Spiritus, walked out into the square in front of the place, through the coaurtyard of the hotel in its grandeur, and watched the day unfold. In Cuba, the children go to school erlier, so at 7 the streets were full of kids in their uniforms, heading to the school near us. The streets were full of noisy motorbikes, bicycles, some cars and some trucks. And of course, the engines of the motor vehicles were not well tuned, so there was the constant smell of diesel and unburned oil. But the sky was varied and looked interesting, the square was alive, and the day was fresh. People were setting up for a market near us as well.

We had our breakfast on the verandah of the hotel, and it was adequate if not fancy. I think the hotel had some trouble coping with having most of its guests eating at the same time. But we managed, and even got onto our bikes not long after 8.

We had planned to ride most of the way to Trinidad, about 60 km. The weather at one point looked quite threatening, and we knew that if it rained, we had to stop, since the roads get quite slippery. So we pushed on, and did very well. By about 11, we had done the fifty kilometres we thought we might do, and decided to push on to Trinidad itself, another 12 or so. This we did, and met the buses. But some of us wanted to go further, and I was one of them. After about 70 km, we were told to get on the bus for the final push to the hotel for the night.

That was the good part: good temperature for riding, good roads, good company. this is still cowboy country. The roads were full of horses and horse-drawn carriages, as well as oxen-dran carts. Also lots of bikes, even on the main intercity roads.

This hotel was built during the Soviet times, and it is obvious.


It is a concrete block with poorly-functioning water and electricity. Our room has only one light (there is another, but it works only about one quarter of the time). There were no towels when we arrived. The toilet sticks, so it suns on. The beds are bad. And we are near the open stage, so we get to hear the stage show at high volume, whether we wish or not. Sigh.

But the beach is good, and there is a lot of it. The water is warm and salty. And we watched the sun go down tonight over the Caribbean. Some of us have booked a reservation at the specialty seafood restaurant here, and may go into town tonight as well.

And we're at this place another day as well. So get used to it: the Cuban Gulag, or Chernobl by the Sea.


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Location:Trinidad

Camagüey to Sancti Spiritus, January 23

Today was a riding day. We were worried, because the weather forecast had suggested a cold front bringing rain, and Danny (our guide) said it was unsafe to ride in the rain. But it was only cloudy, and cool. Great biking weather. There was even some blue sky before we left Camagüey.

Our beginning was on the bus, with about two hours on it to get to Moron. We stopped at a place where we thought we might get a coffee and some access to a toilet. However, although it was called a "Rapido" stop, there was one person doing the work, four watching, and twenty in a line. As well, the person with the key to the washroom had not yet shown up, so we couldn't use that. So we left, and found another place further along. Such is Cuba: it's complicated.

Once in Moron, we got on the bikes and began our trip along the road to Adelaida y Falla, and to Chambas. This country was mostly flat, with crops of sugar cane, potatoes (the soil looks like PEI), cattle. And lots of small holdings with many small plots of veggies (cabbage, beans, broccoli, tomatoes, onions, cukes, sweet potato, oranges, papaya). Lots of horses, used for transport (this is cowboy country as well), and used to pull wagons. Some oxen used for this as well. A lot of dogs and some cats. Many houses which looked the same, three or four rooms, one-story, metal roof. The towns were small, with some colonial buildings, and a lot of others. Some in poor repair, some in excellent repair and painted as well.

We stopped for a lunch in San Juan del Rado, at a park with a pool as well as a lake, complete with pink flamingoes.


The meal was Cuban and good, and the pool was warm (although the air was cool, and we didn't swim). Then by bike to our stop at Yaguajay, where we got on the bus for the trip to Sanctus Spiritus.

We are staying at the Hostal del Rijo, an 1818 mansion converted (well) into a hotel with only 16 rooms. We basically have the whole hotel.


We had our supper across the Plaza, and I bought a picture of me with Fidel (well, actually, it is Ernest hemingway, but it looks like me). After a walk about the town, we have returned to the room, and I am writing a few more words before going to bed.

We pedalled 75 km today. About the same tomorrow.


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Location:Sancti Spiritus

On to El Salton

Today was a day of interesting contrasts. It started out slowly, since we were not going to leave the hotel until after 10. A lazy breakfast, some time after that in the room, then pack and get going. It had been nice to be there for a few nights, but I was glad to be moving on.

Because of the road system, we had to drive back into Santiago, then go on a different road, going northwest from there. One of the stops was at the Basilica de Nuestra Senora du Cobre, in El Cobre (copper). This town has the longest-running copper mine in the Western World, having begun operation in the 16th century. The "Virgen" in the Basilica is supposed to have saved three men from drowning sometime in the 17th century, and is now the most revered religious icon in Cuba. She is especially important to the Santeria religion, but most Cubans see her as special and a pilgrimmage there is expected for most people. Even Fidel's mother went there and left an offering to help ensure his well-being during the Revolutionary War.

Of course, with this amount of importance. there goes a lot of hucksters. I was offered many statues for my tee-shirt. I must learn how to say "f--- off and leave me alone" in Spanish. But nonetheless, it was a good visit there, and then we were off towards our riding area.

We stopped in Contremaestre and were sent off with bananas, oranges and peanut butter cookies. While it was lunchtime, there was no place for us to picnic. So we decided to bike for about ten km, and then find a place out of town in the country. This was mountain country, with the hills and valleys to go with it. I had to walk up some of the hills, but made it up on my pedals for most. And the downhills were great. Also the views. We stopped by a river, next to a farm with chickens and turkeys, for a larger lunch (salmon, avocado, bananas, pineapple, oranges, as well as crackers and peanut butter cookies).


It was great, and tough to get going again. But we had a ways to go before it got dark, and a few more hills to climb.

This country has market gardening, with potatoes, tomatoes, oranges, lettuce, cabbage, carrots, etc all growing. On a larger scale, there is a lot of sugar cane, with the distillery near it as well to make it into rum. And some corn and bananas.

We wound our way slowly, having left the good pavement behind, into Cruchos de los Baños, and then on to Filé. We lucked out there, in that there was a street dance being held with some local young people, whoc were quite wonderful. We stopped and watched for ten minutes or so before going off to the El Salton. This, it turns out, is about three km down a dirt road.


At one point, I was alone on the road, and began to wonder what I was doing. But I made it, and the place looks just fine (the fact that they met us at the entrance with a tray of drinks helped a lot).

Tonight I will sleep well: I am very tired. We had done only 35 km, but they were very hard kilometres.


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Another Hotel Day

Today was another boring day: sunny, blue sky, warm, little wind. Actually, it would have been nicer to have one of those things different. It was hot, almost 30 degrees before ten in the morning. And we were going to ride on black pavement, so it was probably hotter where we were.

We got an early start, getting in the bus about 8 to drive a ways past the really rough road to Chivirico, where we were let off to began our ride. Chivirico is a pretty little town with a cinema, several stores, a school and clinic, a central square, and many houses.


They even had curbs on the main street! And the by-now-usual menage of people waiting for buses, or other rides; horse-drawn carriages, trucks full of workers going to their jobs, pedestrians, and so on. In short, city life in the small town.

We set off on mostly paved road with some areas of rough pavement to go over. this was an area hit by two hurricanes in late 2008, and the repair work has started but is far from complete, on the roads at least. After about fifteeen kilometres, we got to a bridge which had been damaged by the storms, with its central support washed out, and a major collapse of the bridge surface. we were able to bike over it, but the bus could not. We thought that was the end of our ride, but in fact the Cubans had worked out a side road down into the river bed and back up the other side, so the bus got through, And, actually, while we were waiting for the bus to get around this obstacle, another truck with a load of dried palm leaves came twoards us over the bridge, as if it were entirely safe.

Some up and down things, as the road wrapped itself around the hills and stayed near the ocean. Some areas were seriously washed out and undermined by the storm, and we had to go up onto the shoulders to ride through them, some areas had only a small amount of damage, and we pedalled through them. And some were intact, pretty well, with the usual potholes. the scenery was anywhere from wonderful to spectacjular, and I got some pictures of it.

The main problem was the heat. By now it was approaching 11:00 and 30 degrees, and the sun was unrelenting. Water was needed, and the buses would stop periodically and re-supply our water bottles, as well as giving us bananas for sustinence. Lots of animals as well (we learned that all cows and horses in Cuba belong to the state, although they are raised by the locals. Sheep, goats, chickens can be privately owned.).

I pedalled overall about 32 km today, and by that time, I was too hot to go on. I went into the bus, and stayed there until we got back to the hotel. Some of the others cycled back towards the hotel, and probably did about 45 km overall. But it was not for me.

The afternoon was quiet. I slept for a while, then went down to the beach, after going through the laborious double signing process to borrow a towel, and swam in the ocean, read and talked to Ron (an ex-teacher from Toronto). We stayed down there until about six, then had the horrible work of arriving for supper.



Tonight I might even stay awake enough to go to the show they put on at this resort. We'll see.


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Location:near Chivirico

January 19, West of Santiago

Today was a great day. Some cloud in the morning when we got up (at 6:30), but we had wanted to be cool, which is why we planned to be on the road by 8. The plan had been to do a circuit tour of Sanitago, then take the ocean road west to Chirivico. We knew that the road had been badly damaged by the hurricanes of 2008, and that many parts of it would be in rough shape, so the plan was to tour the city on good roads, then do as much as we could of the ocean road.



After leaving the hotel, by bike, we went around the traffic circle, the headed east and then north, along a four-lane divided highway, complete with overpasses. But also complete with horse-drawn carriages, converted buses, pedestrians, bicycles, private cars, broken trucks, and even dogs and chickens. What was interesting was watching the people showing up for their day jobs, many in the fields. We saw lettuce and tomatoes, what was likely broccoli, and perhaps carrots as well. And squash of some kind. We also saw people taking this produce, often in sacs held onto their bikes, but sometimes in trucks or cars, off to where they would sell or distribute it. We ended up at Plaza de la Revolucion again, before heading north through the city, to the area where there are oil refineries and factories. For me, this was the unlaundered tour of the city, and it was great. Gritty, but still in better apparent repair than in Havana. More garbage on the street and beside the street than I would like, and there was one river we crossed which looked rather like a cesspool. But interesting nonetheless.

After the oil refineries, we turned west, and then south along paved country roads, past farms (many collective farms) where there began to be a plethora of animals, from goats to sheep to pigs to cows to horses and donkeys. Many cars passed (one stopped and said to me [I think] that they expect to see me in the coliseum because of my pedalling), but gradually the cars gave way to bikes, horses and trucks. Some wonderful views of the ocean and of the mountains. Several small towns with schools full of lovely children. And lots of people out on the road, walking, riding, sometimes sitting, sometimes working. Most waved hello.

The road broke up at points, and the going got difficult, but we persisted. There was several bridges where parts had been washed out, probably during the hurricanes. There was a truck accident: a truck in the ditch, and another truck trying to winch it out again. There was a vineyard and a coffee roasting place. And there were beaches, both rocky and sandy ones. We were many time tempted to stop, but we knew we had a fancy hotel waiting for us.



The bus passed us several times, then waited for us to catch up. There was water with the bus, which was very welcome. And once there were bananas, ripened on the tree, which were different from any I have had before. Lee and I pedalled together, and agreed to pedal until the end of the good pavement, and then catch our bus to the hotel. By now it was past noon, and we figured we had done about 60 km. Eventually the bus came, we fell into it, and were driven the last 9 km to the hotel. We had done almost 70 km today (140 since we started). With the heat, and the bad roads, this was enough. We felt we deserved that extra Cervesa.

The hotel is grand, with the rooms going down the cliff at the side of the mountains, and a large pool, lots of extras, and all-you-can-eat included (as well as all-you-can-drink).



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Location:near Chivirico

30 January, 2011

Day two in Santiago

Today was to be our first real day of biking here. We went out to a park area to the east of Santiago, past Savilla. Breakfast at 7:30, on the road by 8:30. And you soon learn why you want an early start. The temperature in the early morning is in the mid-20's, and by 10 it is close to 30, if not above. We had about 40-50 km of route to bicycle, and headed off into it with a certain blind vigour. This was soon quenched by the hills and the heat, and most of us settled into a slow, somewhat leisurely trek through the hills and alongside the ocean.

(I should mention in here that Brendan had asked the tour guide—Dan—if he could have a little extra cycling. So Dan set him up with a Cuban who had competed and done well in the national time trials in biking here in Cuba. Brendan was sweating even before he got on his bike! But fortunately, the guy was amiable and they had a good ride out to where we were to start [we were bussed out to this point]. Brendan did well, and the two of these heavy cyclists appear to be friends now.)

The ride out was hot, with several stops for water and resting after hills. We went through a few small communities, each with a school and a health clinic. And rode, as I said, beside the sea for some time. There were mangrove areas by the sea, and the main part of the "beach" area was rocky, but there were some sandy areas as well. And on the other side of the road was a landscape with cacti, hills with jagged rocks unsmoothed by glaciers or even wind/water.


And in one area, there were caves cut into the side of the cliff, perhaps by the water, but also perhaps by pre-historic humans. This was an area of clear significance, since it was fenced off and there were paths around it.

Interestingly, there were a few resorts that we passed, which seemed to be mostly empty. They were flying the Canadian flag, among others, so I assume they were geared towards foreigners. This would be a nice area to vacation.

When we got to the end of the road, we were to turn around and bike back about 10 km or so to a picnic area, where there would be lunch and a swim. However, I was feeling a bit nauseated and not sure if the heat wasn't getting to me. So I took the bus back to join the others. When we got there, we unpacked the bus, got changed, and headed for the beach (beers in hand, of course).


Before I could even get ready for swimming, I was approached by three girls, very friendly and wanting to know about me. They were acting very much like the jinateras that you read about. It was sad, seeing young girls (maybe fifteen) acting like this. When I asked the guide Jose (who is with Cubanatur) about this, he said that I have to understand that they get travel privileges and a lot of money by doing this, and although it is not to be condoned, it can be understood. He talked about how there is now a plan afoot to improve the efficiency of the Cuban economy by letting some people go, and by introducing taxation for the first time. But along with this is a greater freedom for free enterprise among the people, and a desire on the part of the government to increase salaries
to where they are about equal in Cuban pesos and Convertible pesos (now the differential is about 20:1). So who knows what the future may bring. The Cubans are looking to China and to Viet Nam for ideas, and feel that these revolutions have made some progress which can be learned from.

We had some time this afternoon, so we read, swam in the pool, talked and walked around the property. So far, things were good (although watching older Italian men around the pool with teenage Cuban woman was rather disgusting). And we went for supper with the group at a restaurant in Santiago called ZumZum, a government-run restaurant in what was at one point the swanky part of the town—a boulevard with colonial-style houses on either side of the street. Food was good, and the atmosphere was also quite nice. I think we were pretty tired, though, because we were quite quiet coming home in the bus.

Our time in Santiago has been good. It is in better shape than Havana, and seems to be better cared for. And the country around it shows what Cuba is really about. The houses are solid and seem in good repair. the people are working, and look to be well-fed. Schools are present, and the children as always are clean and vibrant. This is what I remember, from before, of Cuba.

Tomorrow we start early and do a ride around Santiago (literally: along the Ring Road), then will try to ride along part of the highway. But it is mostly torn up for repairs, having been damaged in the hurricanes of a few years ago. So we are not sure what will meet us. And we are to stay in a resort in the mountains.

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January 17, Santiago

I have to tell you about the airplane ride. Well, let me begin before that, and get there evntually.

We were to leave the hotel at 4 AM, which meant for me getting up at 3:30. I had had a coffee the night before which interfered a bit with my sleep, and the bar downstairs from us was particularly noisy last night, at least until about 1. So I have no idea how much sleep I actually got, but it wasn't enough. And the night was hot, so I had decided to get a shower in the morning. I had already discovered that the hot water was really hot (about 50 degrees), and that there was not a lot of cold water pressure. What I found this morning was that the cold water was really hot water in disguise, at least today. There was no way I was showering in water that hot, so I didn't, and my poor seatmates were going to be in trouble.

But the walk to the hotel and then to the buses was magical: there was a nearly-full moon over the old Fort, and the streets were quiet and romantic. We walked from the Ambos Mundos through the Plaza de Armas, and then to the buses. And the buses got us all through the nearly-deserted streets to the airport in good time. Hurry up and wait, again. The flight was to leave at 7:20 and we were there by 5. Got our tickets, waited, went through security, waited, and then got onto a crowded bus which took us out to the plane: a Soviet-made plane—a "Yak"— run by Cubana Air.

After finding our sets, we began to notice the "foibles" of the plane. The guy sitting across the aisle from me couldn't keep his seat upright. The storage areas atop the plane were made of cheap tin metal. The lights were not in the right places for the seats. Etc.

But the real treat was when the plane began its engines. This was when the air conditioning came on, and we noticed what looked a lot like smoke coming up from the floor, including from between my legs. We checked with the steward, and she just smiled, shrugged her shoulders, and said it was okay. We realized that this was likely because the cold air was making the humidity in the air of the cabin condense into a fog. However, after a while, a siren came on which again, sounded a lot like a fire alarm. By now the steward was seated in her own chair at the back of the cabin; we looked at her, and she again smiled and shrugged, as if to say "this is an old aircraft, and these things happen, it's okay". We had to trust them, and in the end it was fine. But it was scary for a bit there. And ninety minutes later, we crossed the Sierra Maestres and the sky cleared as we entered into Oriente Province and Santiago.

The next part went pretty well. We were met by Jose and Danny, our tour guides, as well as the two bus drivers we would have. They packed us all into the two buses and we got to the Hotel Versalles without difficulty. They then spent the next hour or so getting the bikes assigned, fitted out, tires pumped, water bottles filled, and so on. We were able to get into our rooms (although it was only about 10), so we could change into our bike clothes. And we then did a bit of a bike ride (about 12 km) out to the fort at the entrance to the Sanitago harbour. Terrain was up and down, and roads were okay, if a bit rough at places. We passed a military base for special forces, many farms and dwellings. And then got to El Morro, the fort. We had plans to be fed at the restaurant there, and they fed us (too)well. Because we still had to pedal back to the hotel.

Then time for me to have a snooze and a real shower, before they took us on a tour of the City of Sanitago (population about 1.5 million). This town is know as being one of the oldest European settlements in the Americas. Also the spot where the Spanish-Cuban-American War was settled, with the (acknowledged) help of the Americans. We saw the monuments, which are very sympathetic to the US role in this part of their shared history. We then went to the Moncado Barracks, where the Revolution began in 1953, with a botched attack.


Most of the Barracks is now a school, but some has been maintained as a museum. I had seen it twenty years ago, and went through the museum then. They have fixed it up since then. Then to Plaza de la Revolucion, a huge gathering place with an enormous statue of one of the heroes from the Spanish-Cuban-American war, and the representation of 23 machetes (chosen because those were the only things which the farmers could use against the Spanish.

Then down to the Central square (Parque Céspedes), with its old-fashioned church, the City Hall from whose balcony Fidel announced the success of the Revolution,


and the Hotel Casa Grande which featured in Graham Greene's novel "Our Man in Havana". They had a rooftop bar, so of course we went up there, just prior to getting back on the bus for the ride back here to the Hotel for supper and an early bedtime. Tomorrow we ride again.


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