Fifty Degrees

Today was the travel day home. We didn't need to leave the hotel until about noon, so we had some time to have a pretty leisurely breakfast, and I had wanted to go for a swim one last time.

Actually, in spite of the bad reviews the Brisas del Caribe got from other travellers, we slept pretty well, but we were both up about five, and decided to wander down to the beach to see if we could catch the sunrise. The waves were luminescent, the area was quiet, and some stars were visible between the clouds. We had our hopes up for a good sunrise.

Unfortunately, the calm was broken by a large tractor pulling a beach rake to smooth the sand, coughing up its black smoke and preceded by bright lights on its way along the water's edge. And there were the artificial lights of the resorts in the area as well.

In the end, the sunrise was not very good, so we went back, had our breakfast, and I was ready for a swim. Got a text from Darlene that it was very cold in Dundas, so we were not looking forward to re-entry to Canada. And we asked her to try and book us seats with Westjet, which she kindly did.

I went back to the beach after breakfast for my swim, but found that there was a red flag up, so swimming was not possible. Took some pictures instead, had a nice shower, and checked the packing.

Richard had arrange for a taxi, which turned out to be a 1950-ish Chevrolet coupe, pretty well fitted out. He took us at high speed to the airport, so we were in fact there in plenty of time.

Check-in was uneventful, aside from forgetting that we needed to pay the government money to be able to leave the country! And a glitch in their computer which said our flight was delayed by six hours (in error).

It was about 30 degrees when we left Cuba, and below minus 14 when we arrived in Toronto. We put on most of what we had that was warm, waited for the shuttle, and got back to the smart car. Fortunately, there was not a lot of snow to clean off, and the car started easily. So we made it home to our respective warm houses in pretty good time, and to waiting wives.

A pleasant end to a very pleasant vacation.

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Location:Varadero

In the Varadaro Circus

Today was to be a travel day, and that is exactly how it turned out. We had our usual breakfast (it's going to be hard to get used to not having fresh-squeezed orange juice, pineapple, and guava in the morning). Then we had to pack.

Our routine was pleasantly interrupted by a visit from Amed. He brought us each a gift, had a number of things to tell us, and requested we send some literature from Canada to a friend of his in Florida. No problem. He is such a nice man, it should be not concern. His house is now a recovery unit, with Inez' sister there, and some other family to look after her. So the visit was short, but sweet.

We had asked Fabio to arrange for a taxi for us for the bus station. We had assumed we would get the same orange Lada as the other day. But we got something even better: this was an old Dodge coupe, probably early 40's. Not a lot left on the inside of the doors. The passenger door sort of closed, the driver door did close. The trunk was okay. But the most interesting thing was that he did not have an ignition as such. There were three wires hanging down from the steering column. He connected two of them, which got the power on. Then touched the third to these two, and that gave the starter motor a boost. Got a block, then he stopped for no apparent reason. But this is Cuba, so we just waited. Turned out the cops were stopping cars along the Prado, so he got stopped; got back in after a few moments with a grin on his face, explaining in words I did not understand. But a least we were off, after the wire trick again. Bumpy and tense ride to the station, all of seven blocks. But we got there.

The Viazul bus up here lived up to its reputation. It was on time and comfortable. And when we got the the station in Varadero, there was another Viazul bus to take us to the hotel (for a fee). So we are on our way home. Text from Darlene suggests this is an awful place, but it's only one night. The beach is great, ocean very good, and room not bad.

Supper was an experience. Lots of overweight, rich North Americans (and probably a good sprinkling of Europeans) lining up and elbowing to get more food, then leaving enough on their plates to feed some people for two days. And with the worry about food poisoning, we ate only cooked stuff. And the room was overly noisy, and basically just not pleasant. And for this we are paying about twice what it would have cost in a casa!

Tomorrow should be somewhat better. What can they do with breakfast? I guess we'll see.

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Location:Brisas del Caribe, Varadero

Last day in Cienfuegos

This will be our final day in this town. I am ready to leave, although I really enjoyed being here. It is an entirely different experience being here this long: you start to get an idea of the rhythm of the city, and begin to recognize and be recognized on the street. Little things that would not catch your attention normally become visible. For instance, there was a crowd inside the fish store today, not other days. And Sundays are quiet days. The Bulevar, which is usually quite packed for its entire length, is today almost deserted. Even the Prado is quite quiet. And we feel like we know at least this part of the town pretty well now, and can rightly sneer at "those tourists".

But today was also a day of music. Fabio's dad plays clarinet in a community orchestra of about 45-50 musicians, and they have a weekly, Sunday morning, concert on the Prado just outside our house. So we went and watched these folks play, really play quite well, for an hour. With the traffic and pedestrians moving around them, as well as many people standing to listen. Many pictures were taken.


Then, as walked down the Prado, one of the bars had a woman at the door, motioning us inside. At first, I thought it was for gambling or illicit activity, but when I did poke my head in, there were grooups of children in folkloric costumes singing and dancing. It was wonderful, more so because we did not expect it.

My foot is still giving me trouble, so I was not up to a big walk. We went back down towards the Hotel, and thought we might check and see if there was any chance of there being internet access. To our surprise, not only did they have cards, but they had terminals available. Both Richard and I spent a half hour doing email, then went to a cafe for Bob's café expres, then back to the Hotel for a bit of food, before returning to the room for a rest after all this activity.

Tonight we pack.


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Location:Cienfuegos

Vignettes

Women here, if they are young and wear skirts, wear amazing stockings. Patterns vary a lot, colour is always black (that we've seen), and they are usually mesh. Sun glasses are de rigueur, usually worn in the hair.

Cuban men seldom wear hats. Younger men might wear a baseball cap; older men, if they wear a hat, will wear a straw one. Men also seldom wear shorts, long pants being the way to go, apparently. Men also have the fancy sunglasses as part of their attire.

There appear to be many gay men, quite flamboyant in their sunglasses and hairdoes, with various facial piercings. No particular notice is taken of them by the other men or women.

Girls have amazing nails. Many are clearly artificial, and are so long they can't be at all functional. Patterns on the nails are creative and varied.

Ball games must be places of crime. At our game, there were maybe fifty or sixty armed men, along with a few dogs. ?Why?

Richard and I wondered how long it would take us being here before we were not "touted". Probably quite long: Amed told us of someone he knew of who had gone to Florida from Cuba, but returned after many years. He was approached to often he got a t-shirt made saying "no soy yanqui". And he was Cuban!

Lots of affection and contact between people: man-man (hands touching, cheeks touching, embraces); man-woman (hugs, cheeks touching, kisses); man/woman-child (kisses and embraces, depending on the child's age); old-young (hugs, hand-slapping, kisses). And always yelling between friends across the street, in the stadium, etc.

Lots of line-ups, for bread, for the bank, for foods, for the ferry, for a public telephone, for the internet. All taken in stride. There always seems to be time.

Street vendors of veggies. Men standing with eight-foot-long garlands of garlic and five feet of onions. As well as pineapples, tomatoes, cukes, carrots, beets, peppers (hot and sweet), bananas, cabbage, guava, mango, papaya, squash.

A man with a bicycle parked at the side of the Avenida, carefully rearranging his two pig's heads in the carrier.

Young men make a style statement with their haircuts. Most are shaved up the sides, some so there is only a disc of hair around the top, some co there is a cap coming down to an inch or so above the ears. Some of the hair is permed so that it stick straight up about three inches, others the hair is combed flat and oiled down. Some of the hair on top can be styles into curves or top-knots. Their hair is almost more stylish than the girls'.

Lots of tattoos on both young men and young women. I have seen them on the face, on the upper and lower legs (front or back), on the arms.

Many small black birds in cages, sold in markets. On some days, we see many of them outside to give the bird some fresh air.

Bicycles have added seats on the front of the frame for children. Often have another person, and sometimes two, on them.

Electric scooters are big here.

Streets are washed on the Bulevar in the morning and again at night. Many people seem to wash their floors once or twice a week. And people wash their sidewalk at least weekly, and keep the street clean outside their houses.

CD's are sold in many places. Sometimes you see racks of several hundred of them, cheaply produced. Don't know the price.

At the hotel pool, there are three carefully laid out and labelled large containers for aluminum, plastic, and cardboard/paper recycling. The other tourists used these. The server in the area dumped everything in the garbage.


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Location:Cienfuegos

Castillo de Jagua adventure

Today was an adventure. We had wanted to go to the Castillo, and the book had said there was a regular ferry from the centre of town to the Castillo, which operated four times a day "when there is fuel". We ere told there would be one at 1 PM today, and that fit us well.

So the morning was spent going to the bank to get more money, going to the internet place ("no tickets" seems to be the common phrase today; only Castro knows why), fighting off the people asking for money. We did find a place for a t-shirt for each of us.

And we returned to the house, before going back down to the dock area for the 1:00 ferry. We got there about 12:15, and they had just opened the gate to let people in. The boat, which was the size and shape of a covered fishing boat and designed to fit perhaps one hundred people, already had over 150 on board. And they kept on coming, so that by the time we left, there must have been over two hundred! Not a life jacket or lifeboat to be seen, much less paddles or other safety equipment. And where we were, at the back of the boat, there was not a complete side rail either. Someone had two hens they were taking over. Someone else had brought a cartoned washing machine. Another had plants to sell or plant. At least, with that many people, you could not fall down.

Everyone was congenial, and conversations began among many of them. A young woman next to me (age, about 35) spoke to a seventeen-year-old boy with bleached and spiky hair next to her, and borrowed a well-used small-format comic book. I looked over her shoulder as she was reading. It was a pornographic romance story, in comic book form. She finished that one and asked for, and read, another before we got to the stop. I thought, that's something you won't see in Canada.

The trip across was interrupted by a stop about thirty feet out from the dock. The engine turned off, there was apparently some trouble. We began to think about swimming for it, but everyone took it in stride, so we just waited, and eventually the boat started again. Took a couple of scheduled stops on the way, then arrived at the destination.

The castillo itself is from the mid-eighteenth century, and is under restoration (what isn't in Cuba?),

but the part they have completed is quite nice, and gives a wonderful view of the bay. One of the things one can do if one wishes is to pull up the drawbridge. I was able to do this; it was quite heavy.

We met a couple from Quebec City at the Castillo. Nice to speak French and not feel like an idiot as I do in Spanish. And a threesome of young women from Montana, who had gotten here via Winnipeg to avoid their government's embargo. The Quebec folks told us there was a three o'clock ferry back to the city, and we got on it. (I told them I had seen a taxi by the Hotel this morning with a Quebec flag outside its window.) Much less crowded, and a better feel to it.

On the way back, the boat was not nearly as crowded. One guy polishing his bicycle the whole way across, while his girlfriend watched patiently and sometimes held his hand. And, for emphasis, we saw a small group of dolphins off the starboard side of the boat. The trip back was less interesting, but that was not a bad thing.

We had to celebrate with a Bucanero (a local, quite good, beer) and some ice cream at the Hotel La Union, then home. Past a line-up at the government rations store.


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Location:Cienfuegos

Town Day

We had a lazy day. The Hotel La Union will let you use their pool and facilities for a fee of CUC10/day. And we had decided that this was what we hoped to do. Turns out this includes CUC7 for food/drink, and three for the pool. So we were set.

But this morning, we set out on our now-routine rounds of the internet places for our now-common expressions of regret that they have no cards, so we can't use the computer terminals. At times, this feels like the internet is biggest thing I have given up to come here.

We had heard that there was a farmers' market in town, so we set out to find it. And we did, about two blocks from the centre of town, inside an old warehouse. It was great, including meat and beans and flour, alongside the usual fruits and veggies. We ran into Fabio and Fabiagles at the market, probably buying some of what we will have tonight. Then, walking further down the street, we saw a Mercedes dealer! That, I had to take a picture of.

 Then back to the Hotel by the long route, and we settled into a day of sitting by the pool, with Bob admiring the young women coming and going. Bob even went for a swim a few times.

A lazy, but nice day. The weather was cool this morning, but hot by noon. When we arrived back at the casa at four, the power was off, so it was actually quiet. (relatively).


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Location:Cienfuegos

A Day at the Beach

After breakfast, I had wanted to get some internet time. It opens down there at 8:30, so I headed off, got there about fifteen minutes after it opened, and there was no line-up! Got on, did my stuff, and even had some time left over. It was great. I felt so empowered that I determined to take on the Cubanacan lady if she were there, about the bay cruise.

She was there, and to my surprise, was not a stupid bureaucrat mouthing platitudes, but said she would see if she could get me a partial refund. Two successes in one morning! Wow!

Afterward we went back to visit the other casa, since Amed was back and had suggested we might do something together. He was there, but busy today. Perhaps tomorrow. But he had some ideas regarding Rancho Luna which we were happy to have.

Our host Fabio had arranged with his friend to drive us out to the beach and pick us up later, for a total of $15 only. And again, we drove in the orange Lada, this time for a country ride of about eighteen km. Past mango plantations, a swampy area, and a river before coming over a hill and seeing the ocean before us.

The place was a wonderful beach, with mostly fine sand or an off-white colour, aquamarine blue water. I went swimming almost immediately, Richard stayed on shore. The water was about 25 degrees, bottom was mostly sandy, and the total was just fine with me.

After swim, a walk along the beach, lunch, another swim, and it was time to come home to the city. But a very nice day out there. We may do it again.


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Location:Rancho Luna

Play Ball!

The morning had been frustrating, so it was a pleasure to have a good afternoon. We had wanted to go for internet time this morning, only to find that the place was closed for inventory. And I had wanted to go back to the Cubanacan lady to complain, but her office was closed wothout explanation. We ended up spending a pleasant time sitting on a park bench, trying to avoid being approached too often by jinateros. But the game was goign to be a relief.

Fabio has asked us if we would be interested in going to a ball game with him. We of course said yes. He has a friend who used to play with the Cienfuegos team, but now is working, and that friend had hoped to go as well. Unfortunately, he had to work, so it was just the three of us.

And we had to take a taxi, because of me. My arthritis was acting up, and I could barely walk, even with the ibuprofen that our hosts had very nicely provided me with. Fabio had a friend who had a taxi. It is a 1960's-era Lada, missing a lot of the interior (including seat belts), and smelling of gas. But it works, and the distance is not great, and the cost was fine (2 CUC's). The game started at 1:00, with everybody standing for the national anthem. Of course, as in Canada, people talked and looked around during it, but they stood, and applauded when it was done. The excitement was palpable, and so different from what I have (distantly) experienced in Canada. People yelling at each other, lots of social interaction. And the stands were almost full—for a daytime game in mid-week.

Richard tells me it was a good game, and I certainly enjoyed it. Perhaps I will become a fan in my old age. The atmosphere of this game, in this stadium, makes me think I must have time-travelled somehow back to the 1940's: no crowds of reporters and no TV cameras. Nothing was done by machine: even the time clock which was mechanised had many of its little lights burned out. It seemed more than quaint. We snacked on peanuts and empañada, and it was just fine.

Another taxi home, in a similar car. Some time with Fabiagles getting a Spanish lesson while she flirted. Then a shower and supper (again here, and again very good).


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Location:Cienfuegos

A Day at El Nicho

Today was a great trip to the Sierra del Escambray and the Parque Nacional El Nicho, a natural reserve in the mountains. It began early, and the transport was by "camion particuliera" (in this case a refurbished flatbed truck supposedly built in 1935, now with at top structure and seats, but otherwise

open).

This is the type of transport common for many people in getting between closer cities. The drive was windy, somewhat comfortable sitting, bouncy and noisy and smelly with diesel fumes. But it got us there, along bad roads at moderate speed up and down the hills as we got to the mountains. Mango groves down here, changing to sugar cane and banana a bit higher. Some market gardens along the way—lettuce, tomato, beans, and probably other things. Then coffee plantations higher up again. This is apparently coffee country, and the harvest starts soon, lots of work. Also began to see pines for the first time, as we got into the mountains. Interestingly, and unfortunately, there was more garbage along the roads than I would have hoped. Saw men and women riding horses and mules, one ox pulling a plow, a few tractors belching black smoke.

One of the short stops was right beside a school, and the children were grouped outside as they would be in schools everywhere, with the one or two older, braver schoolboys pointing and laughing at us, or doing rude hand signals. (And, of course, the ubiquitous bust of José Martí.)

We stopped at the small town of Cumanayagua,

after which the road got even more twisty for the last eight kilometers. We arrived at the gate of the Parque and ground to a halt, lowered the metal staircase and climbed out. We had a local guide show us through to park, which involves a kilometer-and-a-half walk along the river stopping by several lovely azure pools and falls, and ending with seeing the cave where the river sources. Some great vistas as well as some wonderful plants (luffa plant, African tulip, ginger flower, coffee plant, avocado tree). In the end, I elected not to go swimming, but will wait till the warm beach of Rancho Luna.

We had a pretty awful lunch there (accompanied by pretty awful musicians), then headed home. Aside from the lunch, the day was quite nice. Unfortunately, the lunch had further consequences on my gut, but that will heal.

Again, a wonderful supper, and early to bed. Tomorrow we go to a baseball game with our host. Cienfuegos is in the national championships, and they are playing in town. Should be good.


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Location:Cienfuegos

A New Day

Today was a good and productive day. After a fine breakfast, prepared by Fabio, his wife Aglaes accompanied us to the bus station to buy our tickets to go to Varadero. She was able to it in about one-tenth the time it would have taken the two of us. Just knowing where to go and how to talk with the proper officials makes such a difference. And it is a relief to know that is done.

Then to the Bank to exchange some money: a different experience than in Havana, and much quicker here. We are lucky being where we are, quite central in the city. It is a treat watching the city life unfold in the day, and see the patterns of the day and week. Much more street life here than at home. And much more interpersonal interaction. Our business accomplished, we went off to see the Parque again. Stopped at the Catedral de la Purisima Concepción at the Parque, for a quick view of the inside and the reconstruction going on there,

 then to see our not-so-helpful Cubanacan lady to buy some tickets for tours, one for a tour if the bay today, and one for a tour to El Nicho which will be tomorrow. That settled, we came back to the house to rest up a bit from the heavy morning, then walked out to the same paladar we had eaten in a couple of days ago (Aché), which is on the way to the place where the bay tour was to start. Lunch again was quite good, and we made it to the tour just in time.

Unfortunately, the tour was a serious disappointment. There was no commentary, it was promised to be two jours, and was only one, and didn't cover the whole bay at all. I think we will go and complain to the lovely Cubanacan lady as soon as we can. It did, though, allow us time to explore the Punta Gorda more fully, and that is also a pretty part of the area. A long walk back home, a shower to wash off some of the day's sweat, and supper yet to come. Sounds good to me!

Fabio outdid himself tonight: shrimp done up nicely and presented with a flair, along with "aroz, Mors y Christianos". This followed a fish soup which had a bit of curry in it to enhance the flavour. And the usual salad, plus fried bananas. Very good. And he invited us to go with him on Wednesday to the baseball game here in Cienfuegos, which I think will be great fun. The team from here are first or second in the country, and the will be playing at home.

Tomorrow we are of to El Nicho for the day.


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Location:Cienfuegos

Moving Day

Today is Domingo, 13 enero. Amed and Inez are preparing to accompany Inez's sister to Santa Clara. So we have move to this very pleasant casa: clean, spacious, on the Prado, and near the downtown. They are going to provide shelter and some food to us for the next seven days or so. The casa is on the ground floor of a house, so does not have roof access. But much easier street access.

They have a young girl, I think about five. She is Aglaes and he is Fabio. She is a teacher of younger grades, but knows enough English to manage with us. Their father, whose name I don't know, lives with them and plays music.
We are both sad to be leaving the other place. Amed was very good to us, and his English was good enough to have a reasonable conversation. Plus he taught me some Spanish. But we'll see how this house works out—certainly a pleasant beginning here, and very comfortable.
After a settling in period and a short nap, we were off back downtown, both feeling pretty good. So we stopped at the Hotel La Union for a light lunch, before walking slowly back to the casa. We need to go out and find out where the bus station is, which appears to be only about six blocks away. But it's very hot right now, so we may stay inside for a bit.
(later)Went to the bus station, about seven blocks from our casa. It was a chaotic place. Fortunately, Aglaes said she would come with us to help us buy a Viazul ticket to get to Varadero. So hopefully she can negotiate better than I can, in Spanish (couldn't be much worse).
On our return, Fabio asked us to sit in the courtyard, and we had a very fractured talk with his poor English and my poor Spanish. His wife has a better idea of English, and says she take it three times a week for about two hours each time. She is looking to get her English and change from being a teacher to being something else. We agreed that she would practice her English with me, and I would practice my Spanish with her. We had a short lesson tonight (lección). I got some more words down in my book.
Soon, supper, which ins a fish soup (curried, delicious) and fish fillets (breaded, also very good but too much), with banana chips, salad, rice, and coffee. Good meal. But we are tired, even though it is only eight in the evening. May go to bed early again.
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Location:Casa 1935, Cienfuegos

January 12, Cienfuegos

The shrimp last night was great. And a good thing, since I paid for it through the night—several times to the bathroom. Montezuma would have been pleased at the extent of his revenge!
In spite of this, I got some sleep and woke feeling like I wanted to be home. Nothing like an illness to make you want to be in your own surroundings. However, we are here, and can't complain about many things. First, our laundry was done, ironed and folded (we resisted, she insisted— honest). So that was a treat. A light breakfast was followed by a trip with Amed down the street to another casa, since we have to move tomorrow. It was also grand, including a spiral staircase (a bit rickety, but apparently okay) from the bedroom to the roof for a grand view of the city. Great, but she didn't speak English, and my Spanish is not as good as I had hoped it would be. So on that basis, we turned it down. Unfortunate, I have to keep working on the language.
We three then went down and he took us on a tour of the old harbour, with its Customs House, dock and park. And a walk around the old part of the town. Amed had some shopping to do then, and left us. We went and I waited for a time before getting onto the internet for a while to check my email. I hate to admit it, but I really miss good internet access. It is expensive and very slow here. So after this frustrating experience, we had to treat ourselves, and had a water and lemonade at the cafe by the Plaza. Then back home, via the Public Health Department to see when they were open so we could report our illness (there was no sign, so it is only a guess).
Inez and Amed had found a casa with someone who speaks pretty good English, so he took us down to see it. It is right beside the Main Library, has a lovely courtyard, and a good room and (necessary) a good bathroom. No access to the roof, but we'll cope. And she speaks English well enough to manage. So we will move tomorrow, and be there likely to the end of our stay. We were happy to have it settled.
Flushed with this success, we, and Amed, walked down El Bulevar, and turned, leaving Amed, towards the harbour. Passed a gigantic fig tree,

 then walked along the water, and the Malecón, to Punta Garda. Beautiful to walk beside the large bay, although I had to hurry a bit to get to a "baños". This I expected to find at the Hotel Jagua, a large state-run hotel with lots of tour groups staying at it. But of course, this is Cuba, so it was complicated. I asked at the front desk, and he told me to go out a door and turn left. Sure enough, there was a washroom there, but it was locked. But there was a bar-restaurant, so I figured it must have a washroom. They didn't, but directed me to another place from the first. There was a washroom, with the door open, but no toilet paper. Back to the bar to ask about this. I would have to phone the front desk and someone would come and put in paper. Hmmm. But a waiter took pity on me and gave me a paper napkin, so I was okay for that. Back to the bathroom, to discover that there was no seat on the toilet, no lock on the door, and no soap at the sink. You can't have everything in Cuba, so I did my best!
We stopped long enough to have an orange juice—not quite as good as Amed's which is the best I can remember tasting—and then started off back to the city. We were lucky to see the sunset over the bay,

 and we got home in time for Richard to get a picture from the roof. Supper was fish (serra—I think I misspelled it before), and was wonderful, as was our talk with Amed.
Tonight was to be our concert. Amed was coming with us, down to the Teatro Tomàs Terry. It was a good program: Bizet, Debussy, Vivaldi, Beethoven. And I wanted to see what being in this theatre was like. In short, and amazing and different experience. The ventilation is by opening windows, for instance. This means that it was quite warm. Many people were smart and brought fans to fan themselves. But it also meant that there was a bird in the theatre which swooped from time to time through the stage and into the audience. As well, we could hear the other bands playing Cuban music in the square (or at least their bass parts), as well as some yelling and talking outside. The audience was considerably younger than one I would expect in Canada, some parents having brought children as young as four or five. And they clapped after each movement, which caught the orchestra a bit off-guard. The conductor spoke to the audience in English (even though he was French), and there was a translator who put it into Spanish as he went.
The music was great, the setting was exciting, and the outside noise was a reminder that this music was meant for everyone. A wonderful evening.
Tomorrow we move house, so that should be interesting. But we will now be even closer to the main Plaza.
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Location:Casa Inez Maria

Inez Maria, Day 3

Woke this morning after only being up once through the night. Felt good, ate breakfast and had a shower. A new man!
So we set off for the downtown area, for a few reasons. We wanted to see what was possible as tours to the Caleta Bueña, or to Sancti Spiritus. Bottom line is that you can't get here from here. Unless you rent a car. And we are going to be moving house in a few days, so there is that uncertainty as well.
But today was a good time. Went back to the Parque José Martí, bought tickets for the concert tomorrow night, walked around, went out to the paladar Aché for lunch (Richard was good and ate lightly; me, not so much). Then home to meet with Amed, but that turned instead into another discussion about, this time, power usage.
Cienfuegos is a beautiful city, although it is still in great disrepair. But, as opposed to Havana, it cools down at night, and is actually very pleasant. I am sitting now in the living room of the house, listening to Benny Moré on the computer, enjoying the breeze, and watching the daylight fade. Amed is cooking shrimp for tonight, and I can hardly wait.

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Location:Cienfuegos

Cienfuegos, Day 2, January 10

Today was a very light day again. We are lucky to be down here for more than the usual week. The last three days have been very low energy and activity, and this would have been more than frustrating if our time had been short.

After a light breakfast, and some Imodium, Richard and I went down to the Parque José Martí, the real centre of the town itself. This is a neo-classical central square with a statue if José Martí in the

centre and several important public buildings around the periphery. This includes the wonderful Teatro Tomas Terry, that I had seen two years ago.

We went and I visited it again, and may go back for a concert night. We also visited the Hotel La Union, and walked around the other buildings, including the Provincial Government house, the Garden, and a few art galleries. One of these had pictures of Fidel superimposed on the image for American Idol, and another with Fidel's image on an iPod with the "song" playing being "por la Revolución". Interesting.

But after this light exercise, walking perhaps seven blocks, we were tired, and came back to the casa for a rest. I fell asleep, woke to a pleasant breeze from the east, and sat with Richard and talked with Amed about a number of things related to the country, like the availability of the internet, the costs of schooling, access to world press, and so on. It was very interesting.

Supper and reading, along with watching a baseball game on TV, rounded out our under-active day.


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Location:Avenida 56

First Day in Cienfuegos

January 9, 2013

It has been a few days since my last blog. Yesterday was a lost day. Unfortunately, something we ate at the El Cubano was not good for us, and we both spent the day close to bed and toilet. I can't believe I slept so much. But by the end of the day, I was feeling good enough to down some orange juice. Richard was not, and had a pretty bad night. Not to be recommended, that paladar. And today we were facing a four-hour bus ride, without toilet facilities. So there was some reason for concern. We only had to walk to the Plaza de Armes, though, for the bus.

We had been warned that the Viazul buses were cold, so we dressed in long pants, and took jackets. It was not that cool in the bus, although pleasantly not warm either. And we were told the Viazul buses were prompt; we would question this. Our bus this morning was over ninety mintues late. But once on, the ride was comfortable and fairly quick. Again, such is Cuba.

The land we traversed was across the island from north to south, from the Via Blanca down to Cienfuegos. We passed orange groves, sugar cane fields, pastureland, rice fields,

market gardens, as well as a few small to medium towns. Left the Hotel Santa Isabel in Habana and arrived at the Hotel La Union in Cienfuegos.

And of course, as we were standing around getting our baggage off the bus, there were people standing around wondering if we needed a place to stay. When I said to one person that I was going to the Casa Inez Maria, so couldn't go to their casa, an older man spoke up and said he was my amigo and would take me there. He had a bicycle, with no brakes, and he pushed it all the way. He dropped off another couple of folks along the way, then got us to our casa. We were met by Amed, the husband of the owner or the house. Turns out she is at her sister's, and the sister is about to go into hospital for an operation. So we may have to move again.

But Amed is very nice, speaks pretty good English, and we had a good talk about Cuban politics, sites around Cienfuegos, and so on. And he will make us a light supper. So we are (relatively) happy. The place is great, the roof-top sitting area is very nice and does look over to the harbour. It will be wonderful at sunset.

At our request, he made a very nice chicken soup for our supper, but also some rice and a cooked fish (cierra, don't know what it is is English). And some tomatoes, which he says are in season right now. I had eaten nothing and was quite hungry. So ate more than I should have, including a dessert and coffee. It tasted very good, but, ah...pride! I was up through the night with a re-enactment of my GI concern.


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Location:Casa Inez Maria

La Ciudad, Day 4

Today was a mixed day. After having a shower in the off-and-on warm water with its off-and-on flow, we had our breakfast and began by heading over to see the remainder of the Habana Vieja walk. This involved going down some pretty sketchy streets.

Although we never felt unsafe, this was clearly a poorer area than we had seen previously. But, in the centre of this was often a renovated building of great beauty. Also, unfortunately, a fair bit of garbage, and many apparently feral dogs and cats. We saw an old folks home in a former convent, tried to go into a church which had been also a bank (no contradiction there!) and was now a religious museum. Then walked by a section of the old city wall, went through the central train station, visited a farmer's market,

and then went on to the Capitolio and the Teatro Nacional in Parque Central.

On a whim, we decided to spend the money so we could get inside the Teatro and look around, and it was indeed worth it.

A gorgeous building, which you will see in the pictures. We couldn't get into the actual theatre, but the study rooms, practice rooms, and staircases were spectacular enough to satisfy. And on our way out, we met again the jinatero who sold us a picture with him, and a cigar, a few days before. We were not as gullible this time.

Walked down the Prado to look at the Sunday art show, and then stopped for a beer at the Sevilla Hotel. It felt good, and we will likely return for a supper before we leave.

After a stop at the hotel, we had some lunch at the Café Santa Domingo, then went back to the Plaza de Catedral to check out the scene there. We were so thirsty by this time, it being very hot and humid, that we had to stop at an outdoor café for water and a coffee (no, honestly!). Then back again to the hotel. On the way, we were side-tracked by a series of parades with lots of drumming and music, and people in costumes suggesting Santería or some religious activity. One local lady said it happens all the time, but it was pretty exciting for us. Lots of pictures.

My day took a decided turn for the worse at this point. My camera had given me some trouble when at the Teatro, but seemed to be okay after a while. But it quit completely back the the Florida. Recharging the battery didn't make a difference. So I will be relying on the iPhone for the rest of the trip.

Then, after a pretty god supper at La Imprenta on Calle de los Mercaderes, we walked home along a side street and I stepped in a good-sized doggie mess. Yech! Home to clean my sandal, and mourn the loss of the camera, plus write this blog.

Tomorrow we will get some internet again, as well as going to the Plaza de la Revolución, and visiting the Museo de Artes.

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Location:Habana, corner Cuba y Obispo

Day 5, Cuba

Our task today was to visit the Plaza de la Revolución. After breakfast, we headed off, towards the Capitolio, then along Simón Bolivar, which becomes Salvador-Allende, and leads to the Plaza. It's a long walk, through varying neighbourhoods. we went through what they call Chinatown, past the Real Fábrica de Tabacos Partagas, and the amazing building for the communications company. But also past a lot where there wer four or five train locomotives being repaired outdoors! And a park which doubles as a trading area for people with old cars. Walked past a park, which was closed. An older man on the street was sweeping and obviously got caught short, and leaned into the trash bag. We then saw a little puddle form under the cart— you do what you have to. We then went past the Central Bus Station for Havanans, a large stadium, and finally to the Plaza. It is really impressive in scope and size. Remarkable that there is no statue or likeness of Fidel there.

The walk back included a stop at the Iglesia del Sagrado Corazón de Jesús. This is a white marble church with amazing stained glass windows and, at this time of year, and elaborate Christmas crèche. It was terrific, and a pleasant respite from the noises and smells of the outdoors.

Then was a long walk back along Simón Bolivar back to the Parque Central and a waiting beer and water. This time they caught us and wouldn't let us go up to the roof, so we stayed in the lobby for refreshments, and then left to get some lunch elsewhere. Where we landed was not where we expected, there being a young man outside one restaurant who was actually working for another paladar. We had a good, very abundant, and relatively cheap lunch. Then went back to the farmer's market before heading home to the hotel.

We met a wonderful woman who works for one of the tour agencies, who was able to help us get our bus tickets to Cienfuegos, and also a room in Varadero for the last night. Easy once you know how.

Supper was at another paladar. This time, we had wanted to go to one recommended by the book, but it was closed, so we started for another one. One of the jineteras convinced us to try one that she knew. It was, as usual for paladars, on the third floor with a narrow walk-up. Called the El Cubano; food was mediocre at best, but the music was wonderful. A group of four people, drum, two guitars and a flute. The woman playing the flute also sang, and was wonderful.

The one guy had only three strings in his guitar, but made it sound like there were six. And the guy on drums was also amazing. And they all move so incredibly well, it brings to mind too many stereotypes.

On the way home, through the semi-darkened streets (many of the street lights don't work, although we chose a street with a bit more light so we could avoid the dog shit. Some of the streets you have to remind yourself there isn't danger, since they feel kind of spooky.). Part-way along, we move to one side to allow some approaching middle-aged women go by, when the larger of them stretches out her arms, says in a loud voice "HOLA!", and does a little shimmy in my direction. It brings a smile to us both, as I return the "hola!" and a bit of a shimmy. And such is the spirit of the Cuban people.

An early night. Tomorrow is our last day here.

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Location:Hotel Florida

Havana, Day 2

How great to sleep the whole night in a warm climate, even one which is at times too hot for comfort. And wake to a sunny sky and a happy day. We woke at seven.

Breakfast was at the hotel, and was bland but filling. There were folks from Britain, Germany, and the U.S., judging only by accents. I decided that I could lose nothing by asking for a change of room, and they told us it might be possible, so we should pack our things and be ready for a move. In Cuba, you do as you are told.

I wanted to show Richard the part of town that I had shared with Darlene, so after a stop at the Cadeca for some money, we set off along Obispo, relishing in the colours and sounds of the street (including a middle-aged heavy woman dressed in colourful garb and asking if we wanted her picture. We should have said yes, but passed her by on our way to the Parque Central. Here we stopped to admire the statue of Jose Marti, were accosted by a Cuban vet for a story and to give us a cigar (for a price).

We walked over to the Hotel Sevilla (which today had wi-fi, but no cards), then down the Prado to the Malecón, where we stopped to admire the waves splashing over the wall, as we walked west.

A compulsory tour of the Museo de la Revolucion, and the Granma exhibit, then back along side streets to Obispo and some lunch at the Cafe Europa. (The waiter was awful, the food mediocre, but the music and the dancing was spectacular.)

A stop at the hotel to move our things to our new room, overlooking Obispo, and then a nap for Bob, before heading back out to Habana Vieja for a self-guided tour along Calle de los Mercaderes to the Plaza Vieja and another side trip up the tower of the Camera Oscura, itself quite amazing. This led to the need for some hydration, and it happened there was a place handy for beer, so we took it. We were tired, and opted for some dinner nearby, rather than finish the tour. A meal was had at la Giraldilla, and it was good.

 Our waiter, George, told us we didn't have to pay if we didn't like it, but we paid with a smile, it was so good. Like others we have been at, it is up two flights of stairs, through some more dingy spaces, which open up onto a large room for eating. We ate in a ledge in open air, with the colling wind in our faces. A pleasant night.

Richard's foot was hurting, so we headed straight home and he saoked the foot in the provided bidet (so that's what they're for!). And so, to bed.


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Location:Hotel Florida

La Ciudad de Habana, Day 3

Today's story begins with the overnight period. Our new room is overlooking Obispo Street, which is one of the main commercial streets in Habana Vieja.

And last night was Friday night. So the street life went on for some time. Loud talk, some yelling the occasional banging on the metal shutters of the store across the street, the odd dog barking, and some musical rhythm instruments (which didn't seem so musical in the night). But it did quiet down. And it was hot, to the point of sweating in bed. So we turned on the air conditioner, which served two purposes: it masked some of the noise in its own white noise; and the room cooled considerably. So we slept, waking eventually about seven (all right, seven-thirty for me).

Richard's foot was sore, and my back and foot was also sore, so we decided that this was a good time to try out the internet at the Parque Central. We went over, did about a half-hour, then went up to the roof pool and bar, for pictures and a coffee. After that, we were back to the hotel for a re-grouping, before heading off to finish our tour of the old town. This included going to the Plaza de San Francisco de Assis, with its statue to El Caballero de Paris, a local street person who died in the late fifties, but was much known and loved.

While there, we went to see if there was a classical concert in the church of the Plaza, and indeed there was, so we vowed to return. A visit to an art project, a tour of the Plaza de Armas—with its book sellers

—and its environs, and a quick return to the hotel finished off the day's events before returning to the Plaza for our concert.

And what an experience that was! Two pieces, a Mozart piano concerto (#13 in C major), followed by Beethoven's Emperor Concerto. Different pianists, both good, but the latter, a Señor Pita, was spectacular: he is a real star and a showman.

 He got a standing ovation from the large crowd and played two encores to the wowed crowd.

We had made a reservation for supper at Restaurant el Templete,which is recommended by Lonely Planet, and lived up to its billing. Food was great.
But by now it was al ost ten, and our beds beckoned.

The man at the desk was Tulio, the same guy we met two years ago. He. Is a bit grayer and seems to have more responsibility now.

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Location:Hotel Florida

Havana, 2013

This morning began cold and early. We spent the night in a hotel near the Toronto airport ("we" being Richard and I, we having decided some months ago that a few weeks in Cuba would be salutary). It was minus 8 and freshly snowing when we got up, took an overcrowded shuttle to the airport, and stumbled off at Terminal Three.
True to expectations, the Terminal did not disappoint: we were at the door furthest from where we needed to be, and there was a middling line for the travel lady. But, in fact, it went pretty smoothly. Got through security with no problem (Richard was chosen for a random search, though), and settled in for some breakfast (over-priced and under-tasty) before arriving at our gate.

The flight down was uneventful, and he skies were clear below us for about half the journey, so we were happy. Arriving in Varadero was a shock to the ice in our veins. Temperature was about 28, and sweaty. We negotiated a fare to Havana, sat back and were driven to the Hotel Florida. They had actually put us into the one attached, the Margues de Prado. But the room is nice, so we will likely stay. Both these hotels are spectacular, so what the hell! A brief trip to the cadeca to get some money was an exercise in Cuban accommodation. When I could not get the card to spit out the amount in the pre-programmed menus ($150), the nice security guard told me to do a custom amount, like $140, and this would work. Of course it did, and I was happy.
Richard agreed to be led by me around a part of the old town, to the Plaza de Catedral, the Plaza de Armas, and the Plaza Vieja. We had a beer and some ice cream in the first plaza,

 where we saw and I recognized the same fortune-telling ladies that had been there two years ago. We then then walked a bit before settling into one of the paladars for supper (Pallidar Paillado). Had our first mojito as well, and its effects are putting me to sleep, even though it is not yet nine o'clock.
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Location:Cuba y Obispo, Habana