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Ambos Mundos, Around the world travel, Backpacking, Bucket List, Cuba, Havana, Hemingway, Travel, Varadero

Adios Coche, Adios Christy…

January 6, 2017

Rocky’s ride

The following morning, we head to Cafe Ria for our last breakfast and wait for Rocky to pick us up. Just before 9:00, I move from the small patio to stand on the sidewalk and sure enough, I see Rocky’s car coming down the road. I give Christy a thumbs up. Our arrangement was made so hastily and under such odd circumstances, that we were slightly hesitant about it all panning out, but it had.

We throw our bags in the back and begin the 3 hour drive back to Havana, stopping every 30 minutes so Rocky can pour water over the car’s radiator. I don’t mind the stops as it affords us amazing views of the surrounding scenery. To our left are lush, green rolling hills and to our right are miles and miles of sandy coastline. It continues like this until we reach the tunnel that will deposit us back in Old Havana.

The journey that never was…

We’re booked in at Carlos’s B&B for the night, which is centrally located on Aguilar. Carlos is nowhere to be found, but the cleaning lady lets us in and shows us to our room. We drop our stuff and decide to head out to Hemingway’s finca for the afternoon.

We walk down Aguilar to the waterfront, stop in a corner cafe for a mojito and then begin to negotiate a ride to the finca. We find a driver and begin driving back towards Vedado. Funny, I thought it was in the other direction (?) I can’t really communicate this in my broken Spanish and trust the driver knows where he’s going. We pass the many embassies that line Quinta Avenida, and just as we’re admiring the beautiful architecture, our car stalls out.

This is nothing out of the ordinary really. If you think about it, these cars are ancient. Our driver gives us a reassuring nod as he gets out of the car to check out the problem. The look he gives us when he gets back in is not as reassuring. The car is dead!

Adios coche…

He doesn’t hesitate and flags down another driver on a side street to pass us off to, directing him on where to take us, and moments later we arrive at Hemingway’s Marina. No, not Hemingway’s finca… his marina. This jaunt has gone wrong from start to finish, and we explain to the driver where we’d been hoping to go. Not entirely understanding how we got here, but feeling a bit sorry for us, he graciously agrees to take us back to Old Havana. When we arrive back in the city, we exit the cab at Plaza des Armas and head to Ambos Mundos. If we can’t have Hemingway’s finca, we will at least visit his hotel.

Ambos Mundos, Hemingway’s Hotel

Floor to ceiling windows and doors let afternoon light stream into the first floor of the hotel, and an older gentleman plays piano near a corner entryway. Everything seems to circle the large mahogany bar that sits in the middle of the room. People come and go taking a respite from the afternoon heat, admiring the space and checking out the collection of photographs of Hemingway on one of the tiled walls. We take a seat at the bar and order a couple of rums and toast to the journey that never was. Wasn’t it Hemingway who said something about grace under pressure??

We walk back to our casa via Plaza Vieja, the square that always seems to be bursting with life. An outdoor concert is in full swing, so we grab chairs at a table nearby and listen to the last set. We then head back to Cafe de los Artistas, where Christy and I toast to our last night in Havana.

We head home, check email and hear from Sarah. She is home in snow-covered Boston, and another storm is on the way. She advises Christy to check her flight and then tells me she’s connected me with another traveler she met after we left Havana. His name is Matt and he’s also a photographer. I send Matt a quick message with details on where we’re staying and tell him to stop by in the morning if he wants to share a ride to Trinidad. One part of the adventure is over and another about to begin.

Around the world travel, Backpacking, Bucket List, Cuba, long term travel, Travel, Varadero

A Break from our Break in Varadero

January 5, 2017

We wake the next morning with one thing on the mind and one thing only, the beach. We pack up a day bag, grab breakfast at Cafe Ria (because it was so good yesterday), and begin the walk to the beach. We take a different route today, walking on a street parallel to the beach passing stall after stall of souvenirs. Sombreros, sundresses, tee shirts, postcards, jewelry, maracas…you name it, you can find it. Shops are interspersed with street side cafes and cantinas and the occasional casa or apartment complex.

We continue down this road to the to the bus station to inquire about transportation back to Havana, only to find out that all buses the following day are fully booked. I refuse to worry. I’m officially in a Cuban state of mind, and I tell Christy we shouldn’t worry… we will sort something out. It’s hot and we don’t want to sacrifice any more beach time, so we head straight there.

We cut across a couple of side streets and look for access to the beach. Much of the beach front is taken up by all inclusive resorts, where you have to be a paying guest to rent chairs and umbrellas or even be served a drink. We quickly find out they won’t budge on this rule and begin to seek out a public entryway to the beach, our dreams of reclining and being served fruity drinks from coconuts shattered. We find public entry to the beach at the top of the next street, next to a construction site for a new all-inclusive spot that will be opening next year. At the end of that small street is a little cantina that sells cheap Cristal and strong mojitos in plastic cups. This will work perfectly!

We attempt to set up our spot on the beach, but it’s impossible for me to take my eyes off the view. To the left and right of us is powder white soft sand for miles, and in front of us, as far as the eye can see is the most beautiful crystal clear aquamarine ocean. It’s one of the most pristine beaches I’ve ever seen.

We dump our bags, strip out of sweaty cover ups and run down to the waters’ edge. The water is luke warm and inviting, and we wade out about 30 feet or so, playing in the small waves. As the water laps my shoulders, I look down and realize I can still see my pink toenail polish. I am well-traveled, but I have never been in water like this.

We spend the day frolicking in the ocean, walking along the beach, and sunning ourselves with the surrounding half naked German, Canadian and Italian tourists. And occasionally, we pop back to our little cantina for a mojito or two. I can spend hours here and we do. But as the light changes to a softer shade, indicating the arrival of evening, we are reminded that we still have no way of getting back to Havana tomorrow.

We pack up and walk along the beach, back to the direction of the roadside stand where Pedro & “Potpourri” work. Before we stop in to visit with them, we pay a visit to the nearby all inclusive resort, where we manage to steal wifi for a few minutes. On the front steps of the hotel, we quickly check email and texts and I send my dad a “Happy Birthday” message. Then a beat up 90s Nissan pulls up. Without hesitation, I walk over and ask the driver if he wants to take us to Havana tomorrow. We agree on the price of 30 CUC and a pick up time of 9am outside Cafe Ria. Well, that was easy. With that sorted, it’s now time for happy hour and our last night in Varadero.

Around the world travel, Backpacking, Bucket List, Cuba, Travel, Varadero, Viñales

Viñales to Varadero

January 4, 2017

Christy only has a few more days of holiday, so our plans are to head to Varadero for a couple of beach days before going back to Havana, where she will return to the US and I will travel further east into Cuba.

As we’re wrapping up breakfast at Casa Izzy, we see an old green Land Rover pull up outside. Barbara comes in to let us know our ride has arrived, so we grab our bags and head downstairs. As we get closer to the road, we see that the Land Rover is packed to capacity – not just with people, but with bags too. After a couple of minutes of people getting disgruntled, two passengers bail, our bags are tossed in the back, and we’re both told to squeeze in the front passenger seat.

I sit squashed between Christy and the car door and watch as we leave Viñales, once again climbing through the forest and descending onto a potted road that leads to the autopista. The Land Rover accelerates loudly and leaves a trail of fumes behind us, but it handles the potholes in a way Louis’s neon orange sports car never could. I roll down the window and let fresh air hit my face as we again pass horse and buggies, bicyclists, work trucks, tour buses and classic cars.

Today, I feel like I’ve found what I call my ‘traveler’s groove.’ Six travelers sit crammed on two benches in the back of the Land Rover, with our backpacks strewn at their feet. All of us are off to various places east of Havana, and we’ve entrusted our lives to this stranger, whose job it is to deliver us safely to Varadero, all for the price of 40 CUC. I am in my element!

I dig the Lonely Planet Cuba book out of Christy’s backpack and spend the morning reading the ‘History” section, venturing as far back as the country’s pre-colonial days and then landing in more familiar territory when I get to the names Batista, Castro & Guevara. One and a half hours later, we pull over at a little rest area for a break, my mind trying to sort the hundreds of years of history I’ve just crammed into it. We decide it’s late enough in the day for a cold beer, grab a Cristal to go, and continue on our journey to Varadero.

We cross Havana and head east, trucking across flat farmland. I can smell rain in the air and roll up the window as fat raindrops start to land on the windscreen. We’ve dropped a couple of passengers at a bus station on the outskirts of Havana, but Christy and I have decided to stay up front with our driver, Esteban, who educates us on Cuban pop music and points out his hometown as we pass it.

We’re soon arriving in Varadero, which immediately feels as touristy as Old Havana but without the charm and appealing architecture. The strip of beach to our left is lined with high rise after high rise and interspersed with small shopping centers. Fortunately, we’re staying at an Airbnb just south of here in an area called Santa Marta, which is like what Vedado is to Havana. Choc full of traffic and locals, I feel like we’ve made a right turn back into authentic Cuba.

After about an hour of driving around looking for where we’ll be staying, we finally connect with Irenia, who runs Santos B&B. We bid farewell to Esteban and follow Irenia as she welcomes us in and gives us a tour of the apartment where we’ll be staying for the next two nights.

We take a late lunch across the road in the little courtyard garden of Cafe Ria and then walk the 30 minutes to the beach area to scope out a place for tomorrow. We find a little snack stand en route to the beach and meet Pedro and his sidekick, who refers to himself as ‘Potpourri.’ They gift us piña coladas and make us promise we will return the following day.

We catch a glimpse of the beach before the sun has set entirely and then grab a taxi back to our neighborhood. We find a little market and grab a bottle of coke and settle into the chairs on our small patio. I dig through my daypack and pull out the cigars and rum we were gifted in Viñales, and we pour a couple of rum and cokes, toasting to a good travel day and our first night in Varadero.

Around the world travel, Backpacking, Bucket List, Cuba, Havana Club, Pinar del Rio, Travel, Viñales

Horsing Around in Viñales

January 3, 2017

While Barbara is preparing our breakfast, I step out onto the balcony of Casa Izzy. Heavy clouds hang above the mountains in the distance threatening rain, and a chill is in the air. I head back inside to grab a cup of coffee and a spread of fresh fruit, toast, eggs and juice is laid out on a small table in the living room.

As we’re finishing breakfast, Michael, our guide for the day, comes to collect us at the casa and walks with us down a small dirt road to a muddy farm area where a few other travelers are waiting. He begins assigning us to our horses. Mine is named Carmelo, and looks a little worse for wear! As I plant my left foot in the stirrup and swing my right leg over the horse, I say a little prayer that I’ll get off the horse in the same condition I’m getting on it. We set out for our morning tour of Viñales.

Our first stop is Torres Family Farm, where we’re greeted by Alex, who begins our tour by offering us a fresh, organic mojito. Alex takes us into a barn area, that sits surrounded by fields of tobacco. Inside, the leaves are hanging to dry. Alex explains that the fields are planted in December and within two months, they have one meter tall plants. These plants are then hand collected by the ten people who work on the farm. (No machines are used at all.) The leaves then go into a dry house where they hang for two months. And then, the fields are replanted. The tobacco season last six months, and the rest of the year, the land is used to grow corn, sweet potatoes, and other vegetables.

Alex takes us to a small table next to the dry house where he begins to demonstrate how a cigar is rolled. He explains that the tobacco they grow is similar to what you would find in a Montecristo no. 4, full of honey and vanilla flavors. He tells us this is what Che smoked.

We find out that 90% of their leaves are sold to the government and 10% are for saved for the workers and community. We meet Raul, a farm employee, who is taking a morning smoke break.

I realize that people here smoke a lot, and I wonder if people ever share a cigar, like people sometimes do a cigarette. I ask the question and Alex shoots me a sideways look and says, “You have boyfriend? You share your boyfriend with other girls?” Question answered…

Alex gifts us each a cigar and we bid farewell, heading off to our second stop, which is a small rum plantation about 20 minutes away. To call this a plantation is a bit of a stretch. It’s more a collection of picnic tables covered by a thatch roof. Old plump men wearing sombreros and playing banjos visit the tables pouring generous samples of rum and taking orders for mojitos and piña coladas.

We learn that what we’re drinking isn’t exactly a rum or a whiskey for that matter. It’s a spirit endemic to the Pinar del Rio region, called Guayabita del Pinar. It’s called Guayabita for the little guava fruit that sits in the bottom of each bottle. We each feel the need to take one of these home, so we purchase a bottle each, shove them in our backpacks and hope they survive the afternoon on horseback.

We travel further into Viñales, following Alex on a narrow path that hugs tobacco farms, crosses creeks and occasionally takes us to a collection of casas that you can scarcely call a village.

The sun is blazing as we begin to cross Viñales Valley, an open field which ultimately leads us to Indian Cave. We tie the horses to a tree and head into explore these caverns that were only rediscovered in 1920.

From here, we trot back to town, arriving by mid-afternoon. We freshen up at the casa and head out to sort transport from Viñales to Varadero for the following day. It’s been a short stay in Viñales, but one I’m glad we didn’t miss. It has been our first taste of the authentic Cuba I felt I was missing in Old Havana.

We head to a little bar after dinner and sample some Havana Club aged rums, toasting to another good couple of days…any excuse really. This is Cuba after all!

Around the world travel, Backpacking, Bucket List, Casa Izzy, Cuba, Travel, Viñales

Adios Vedado, Hola Viñales

January 2, 2017

We have loosely organized transport to Viñales through Carlos, the owner of the Airbnb we will stay at when we return to Havana. I say loosely because we’ve had trouble confirming the transfer and our day of travel is coinciding with a national parade to honor the late Fidel Castro. Apparently, the city will come to a standstill later today.

At around 9am, we head down to the corner outside our apartment in Vedado and wait. We have no idea who we are waiting for and when they may show up…but about 15 minutes later, a guy driving a neon orange sports car careens around the corner of 12th, waving at us. There is no mistaking this is our guy. He pulls over in a nearby driveway, gets out and introduces himself as Louis, as he throws our backpacks into the small trunk.

As we get into the car and reverse out the driveway, Louis begins to renegotiate the cost of the drive that we tried to confirm with Carlos yesterday. “It’s a holiday…It’s very far…” Louis explains. We reconfirm the price and I wonder if travel will be like this throughout the trip. As we reach the city outskirts, I decide I’m not going to worry about this.

Literally less than 10 minutes into the drive, I feel like I’m witnessing the authentic Cuba I had so hoped to see. It’s here and it’s everywhere once you get out the confines of the city. Undeveloped land surrounds us on both sides of the autopista, which is potted with deep potholes Louis aggressively tries to avoid.

We pass classic cars, people on horseback, horse & buggies, work trucks transporting large groups of people, tour buses and bicyclists. Louis chastises everyone who drives faster than him and then puts his foot down so hard the speedometer needle is hovering around 120 km/hr. I try to get comfortable in the back, but we’re either dodging tour buses or ingesting fumes from the classic cars in front of us.

Two hours later, we exit the highway and begin a long journey along an even shittier road to Viñales. Colorful houses line the roads, and laundry hangs in almost every front yard. A few propaganda signs sit at intersections and roundabouts – those paying tribute to Fidel or mocking the US government.

We begin climbing a winding road surrounded on either side by dense forest. On the descent, Louis tells us we’ll be arriving soon.

As we make our way up the main street which seems to mark the entry and exit to the city, I know I will like Viñales. It’s night and day from the bustling crowds of Havana.

Louis winds his window down and stops a few people in the street to ask for directions. We’ve been told by our contact on Airbnb that many people in Cuba don’t know “dresses” and will invite you to stay in their casa, so she has sent us directions to go past the church and turn left after the clinico. We manage to find the correct street and a lady standing on a pink balcony on the second floor of a small apartment complex sees us and comes down to retrieve us.

We are staying in a small room at Casa Izzy, which sits off to the side of a small living room and kitchenette. Just outside the door is an identical space to ours where Barbara, the manager, and her family live. Barbara gives us a tour of the casa and shows us our room, which is bright and white, has two full beds and an en suite bathroom. She shows us where breakfast will be served and gives us a book full of activities we can partake in while here. We sign up for a 15 CUC horeback riding tour for the following day and head out to explore Viñales.

We walk down the main street, Calle Salvador Cisneros, past the church which seems to be where everyone congregates and head down a dirt road that eventually leads to farmland and horse pastures. We wander for a little bit, soaking in the peacefulness of this place before looping back to town.

We head to La Colonial for a couple of cold beers and then explore the local market, which is full of trinkets – shell jewelry, Che Guevara souvenirs, matchbox classic cars and kids toys made from coconut shells. We venture down a side street and stop to watch a group of men who are playing a game of dominoes in the last slivers of daylight.

We find a Mediterranean restaurant where a line is beginning to form, take this as a good sign, and join the line. Cuban food is good, but one meal without rice and meat will be welcomed. We order risotto and cannelloni and split a bottle of passable wine.

After dinner, the sleepiness of Viñales is getting its hold on us. After our crazy Havana nights, we welcome a chill evening. We head back to Casa Izzy, confirm our morning pick up for horseback riding and before Christy has even finished brushing her teeth, I am well away.

Around the world travel, Backpacking, Bucket List, Cuba, Havana, Travel, Travel Wishlist

Feliz año nuevo desde Havana

January 1, 2017

We venture out the next morning and explore some of Vedado. Wayne has told us we must eat at Starbien, so we walk over to make a reservation, only to find out they’re closed until January 3rd. Still, we get to see some side streets of the neighborhood we’re staying in, and then we jump in a cab and head back to explore more of Old Havana.

We grab a coffee at Cafe Wanda before heading down Obispo. We duck into old bookshops, markets, giftshops and the occasional bar. Around 12:30, we stop at Lluvia d’Oro and watch as the old bartenders whip up mojitos.

We order a round of Bucaneros before heading on to Plaza Vieja, where we sit and watch the world go by. Tourists cross the square, local kids play a game of soccer and a stage is being set up for New Years celebrations.

We walk south down a side street to the waterfront and see cruise ships docked in the harbor. Then we loop back to the Malecon with El Morro on our right. At El Cabana, the live music lures us in, so we stop for a mojito and a snack. When the band goes on break, we head up towards Parque Central and watch as a black 50’s Chevy delivers whole cooked pigs to private homes. They’re even wearing little sombreros. I have a feeling I know what we will be eating New Year’s Day!

We head back to Vedado and get ready to go out for the evening. It’s New Year’s Eve, and we have no plans but aren’t concerned about having any trouble finding fun. We head back to Old Havana and decide to try El Floridita again. We weasel our way up to the bar and order daiquiris and see a statue of Hemingway in the corner, bellied up to the bar. We watch as tourists make their way to the corner for a photo opp.

From here, we head back to El Escabeche to see our friends from the previous night. David spots us and says he’ll take us to a private paladar for some food, but they are full, so we grab the last table at the restaurant connected to El Escabeche and sample the best roast chicken, rice and beans I’ve ever had. Midnight strikes as we’re finishing up our meal, and we all get up to head into the bar through a little door in the corner of the room. The kitchen staff files out of the kitchen and a short, plump Cuban woman grabs me and kisses me on the cheek, wishing me a Happy New Year.

We stay and drink and dance and watch from the door of bar as people run up and down the streets dodging the buckets of water that people are throwing from the balconies above. Later that night, we make our own escape and manage to make it to a cab without getting doused.

New Year’s Day is a slower start. We take a long walk along the Malecon to the Hotel Nacional, where we stop in to look around and have a cold beer in the courtyard. We then head back to Vedado for a late lunch at La Catedral, which is seething with locals…always a good sign in my book.

We indulge in ropa vieja and a bottle of red wine. The meal is worth the wait and we top it off with cortados for afternoon stamina. We spend the late afternoon strolling the back streets of Vedado, which leads us to the waterfront where a small group of people fish as the sun sets.

We loop back to our apartment on 23rd & 12th, and I could easily call it a night, but it’s our last night with Sarah, so we hail a taxi back to Old Havana to a little street we walked by yesterday. It’s lined with a number of restaurants whose tables spill over onto a narrow cobblestone street. Here we find Cafe de los Artistas.

We settle into bar seats and make friends with Allain, the mixologist, who is creating cocktails that are so pretty I feel bad drinking them. Lestian, the manager, finds us a table outside and helps us order some tapas. He comes back and gifts us Romeo y Julieta cigarillos for us as a consolation for having to wait so long for a table.

After dinner, when the staff has wrapped up work for the evening, they sit and join us for a nightcap. We toast a Havana Club aged rum and light up our little cigars… to our last night as the three amigas!

Around the world travel, Backpacking, Bucket List, Cuba, Culture Shock, Havana, Travel

Welcome to Cuba…

December 30, 2016

I’m going to be honest…I don’t know what to expect from Cuba… Sure, I’m familiar with the stereotypical things – vintage cars, cheap rum, good cigars, and I’ve heard arriving will be like stepping back in time. But, as usual, I am willfully unprepared and have done little planning other than to sort a few night’s accommodation along the way.

On December 3oth, a good friend drops me off at Mangonia Station near West Palm Beach to take the TriRail to Ft. Lauderdale International Airport. After a one-hour train ride and a shuttle bus to Terminal 1, I head to the Southwest desk to check in for my flight. I’m told to head downstairs to a separate check-in area where an employee, who’s appropriately sporting a fedora, tells me to head to the visa desk, get my visa, then come back and get in line to check in. After waiting in many lines and talking to many people, I have the appropriate visa for Cuba and am checked in.

The gates are crammed full of people traveling home from their Christmas holidays and off on their New Years jaunts, and I make my way to B-7 for boarding. I snag an exit seat next to an American guy, Wayne, who sort of resembles Robert De Niro. He’s traveling home to Havana, where his Cuban wife is waiting for him. He looks at me and asks if this is my first visit to Cuba, and at my response, proceeds to spend the entire duration of the one-hour flight making suggestions of where to eat, what to see, what to eat, where to drink, and where to dance. He makes notes on the print out of other recommendations someone had kindly emailed to me and jots down his address and his cell phone number.

Upon landing, I quickly fill out the numerous arrival forms handed to me at the beginning of the flight, grab my bag and walk with Wayne to the arrival hall. He suggests I change a small amount of currency at the airport, but not all of it. I can get a better rate in the city, he says.

Arrival is seamless, despite hearing horror stories of hour long waits to clear security and customs (they x-ray EVERYTHING coming in), and Wayne and I say goodbye. My friend Christy’s flight has just arrived, so I scoop her up and we head off to find our other friend Sarah, who is waiting in the arrivals area outside.

Outside and to the left is a concession stand that sells cold beer, rum, cigarettes and a few snacks. The area is seething with people, but we grab a hightop table we can stand around, order a cold Bavaria beer each and watch as people drive their vintage cars around the arrival loop road, looking for the people they’re picking up.

The air is humid and smells of car fumes, but there’s a lightness to it. No one is in a hurry. We are already experiencing Cuban time.

We wait for Arianna, who meets us to assist with our airport transfer and help get us settled in at the Airbnb we have booked. I guess all she had to do was look for the three white girls at the airport, so her job wasn’t too difficult. After our hellos, we finish our beers, grab our bags and squeeze into a kelly green 1950s Chevrolet and make our way to Vedado.

We drop our bags at our Airbnb on 23rd & 12th and attempt to change money. After learning that most banks would be closed until after New Years, I audibly thank Wayne for suggesting we change a little bit of money at the airport, and we jump into a taxi with Arianna still in tow and head to Old Havana.

We pass the iconic Hotel Nacional and make a right to drive along the Malecon. By this point in time, it’s nearing end of day, and as we drive, we watch the waves splash up and over the Malecon, splashing the road, the cars and the occasional passerby.

We drive up Parque Central and jump out near Hotel Ingelterra. I can tell we’ve entered the touristic area of Havana but can’t help but be awed by the beauty of the architecture. Once ornate buildings have lost the struggle with the test of time, but they manage to hold on to a sliver of their former glory. It is easy to envision just how jaw-droppingly beautiful Havana was in its heyday.

We stop in to Parque Central Hotel, where every tourist seems to be sitting in the lobby and attempting to access WIFI. Here we’re able to change a bit more cash before heading to the eastern part of Old Havana for drinks and a snack.

We find El Chacon and order a round of mojitos, followed by the national beer, Cristal. Arianna is still with us and we get the chance to learn a little bit more about what her life is like. Besides helping out with her cousin’s Airbnb and working as a makeshift tour guide, she also works as an architect/interior designer and as a teacher. Arianna tells us it’s not uncommon for Cubans to have up to two or three side gigs in addition to their main job. We learn she makes the least amount of money from her full time job teaching, bringing in about $20 a month. She makes better money with her design gig, but the most income is derived from her tourism gig.

As we sit in El Chacon, in what feels like the equivalent of a hip European cafe in a touristy part of town, I hope that I will be able to discover the authentic Cuban experience while I’m here. I’m glad Arianna is still with us and that we have the chance to talk openly and candidly with her. She tells us that she (like many other Cubans) has never left the country and despite being (so say) allowed to, it’s almost impossible for Cubans to get the necessary visas.

From El Chacon, we walk over to Obispo, which is filled with even more tourists, but we find a dive bar on the corner called El Escabeche. The place is dimly lit, and a band is set up in the corner belting out Cuban classics. We order a round of mojitos and meet the crew working there. Carlo, is the manager and Armando and Diego are tending bar with Charlie, who claims to make the best mojito. He even won an award in Chicago.

Carlo calls over a young guy, David, from the other corner, and makes him salsa with me. I think to myself that I’m doing good at following the instructions my good friend Christel gave me before I departed for this trip: 1. drink rum, 2. smoke cigars, and 3. dance. We spend a good part of the night in this little hole in the wall spot.

From here, we make our way up the road to El Floridita – a bar made famous by Hemingway. It’s packed to the brim, so we decide to save it for another day and make our way back to the taxi stand near Hotel Ingleterra, stopping to take a peak at the lobby of the Gran Teatro before hailing a cab.

We head back to Vedado and venture to Cinecita, which is directly next door to our apartment. It’s officially sleepy, but we’re just looking for a nightcap, and a table of Cuban men wave us over and insist we sit down. They offer us a taste of everything they have, and we end up ordering plates of cerdo, mashed yucca and ensalada… quite the midnight snack. We wash it all down with a Cristal, bid goodnight to our new Cuban friends and call it a night.

Belize, Canada, Cuba, England, Japan, Portugal, Tasmania, Travel Wishlist

My 2014 Travel WishList

January 15, 2014

Ah, the joy of a New Year. Almost a year ago to the day, I wrote my 2013 Travel WishList and I would have never believed you if you’d told me I would walk across Northern Spain and sip wine in Slovenia. There are 350 days left this year… I’m excited to see where I end up and I’m embracing the unknown!

Below is my 2014 Travel Wishlist. Unless I win the next Mega Millions drawing, I probably won’t make it to all of these locales, but I will hit a few – that I’m sure of. And a few surprises will crop up too. Following my reasons for wanting to visit each country is a link to a selection of highlights from AFAR Travel Magazine’s online community… Follow the link to browse what fellow travelers consider to be the must-sees in each of these places:

Japan – I am so completely intrigued by Japan, and despite spending a lot of time in neighboring countries, I have yet to make it here. A few friends have traveled to Japan and told me of the peacefulness of this country… Ok, Tokyo might be a bit like sensory overload, but after a few days in the fish markets, karaoke halls and kimono shops, imagine strolling through the Bamboo Forest of Kyoto, then learning the rituals of a tea ceremony at the ancient chashitsu, or tea rooms, or testing your luck at spotting a real Geisha in Gion.

Tokyo’s Fish Market, Photo: Rod C

If you’re a nature enthusiast like me, you may consider a trek up Mount Fuji, so long as you’re legs aren’t still wobbling from the high speed train journey there. Or, if nature, with less of an adrenaline rush is more your speed, then the shrines and temples west of Tokyo make for a more peaceful day trip.

Mount Fuji, Photo: Travel4Kids.com

It seems like I would need an endless number of days in Japan, as this itinerary only covers the central main island of Honshu. On the Southern most part of this island, you can visit the Hiroshima Peace Park before heading to the island of Kyushu, for hot springs and the history of Nagasaki. Or alternatively, head north to Hokkaido for National Parks and winter ski resorts. Japan has something to entice any type of traveler, and is number one on my 2014 travel wishlist.

My AFAR Wanderlist for Japan:
http://www.afar.com/travelers/eleanor-hallewell/wanderlists/japan-2014-travel-wishlist

England/Great Britain – Born, and raised for the first five years of my life, in England, I can say I know the country quite well… parts of it that is. Hence the reason I want to spend some more time here. I feel the need to better acquaint myself with the place I hail from.

Abbey Road

Yorkshire, Photo: Andrew Montgomery

I’ve never been to Liverpool, and I want to walk across Abbey Road and tour The Beatles’ old haunts. I’d then take a train from Liverpool up to the Lake District and spend some time on the walking routes here, maybe even climbing a mountain or two. I’d like to see the Yorkshire Moors Emily Bronte told me about during my Senior English Class and sip tea in an old Victorian B&B .

Pembrokeshire, Photo: Spila Riccardo

I’d then head South to my favorite part of the country… the English Seaside. I’d stop in Devon and Cornwall, places I visited during my childhood Summers, and then head further south to Penzance before taking a boat ride 28 miles out to sea, arriving at the Scilly Isles – the Southernmost point of England. And for good measure, I’d head to Wales and walk the rugged Pembrokeshire coastline and Anglesey’s pebble beaches ending up in a local joint to savor fish and chips.

My AFAR Wanderlist for England/GB:
http://www.afar.com/travelers/eleanor-hallewell/wanderlists/england-slash-gb-2014-travel-wishlist

Lisbon, Photo: Lonely Planet

Portugal – Sample the day’s best catch in the ancient fishing village of Ericeira, sunbathe on a crescent beach surrounded by limestone cliffs in the Algarve, try to decipher between tawny and ruby at 16th-century port houses in Porto, and rumor has it, sample the best sangria in the world… Portugal has been creeping up on my list for the past couple of years, and when I learned there was a Camino that started in Lisbon and meandered north through the quaint villages of this country, it got a secure spot on this years list of places I want to go.

Algarve Photo: Bookableholidays.com

Since Portugal’s entire Western and Southwestern borders meet the ocean, it seems like the perfect Summertime destination for the vitamin D junkie that I am. But if the promise of sand and sun doesn’t have you throwing your bikini in your backpack right away, fear not… Portugal has plenty to offer.

Lisbon, Portugal’s capital city, seems to be packed full of restaurants, wine bars, cafes, museums and shops. A ride on the free tram, (#28) will get you acquainted with the layout of the city and save your legs from some steep climbs.

Tawny port, Photo: Jon Sullivan

North of Lisbon is Sintra, a city that will appeal to the history buff inside of you. Declared a UNESCO World Heritage sight in 1995, this place has Moorish castles and royal palaces to spend a couple days exploring.

And Porto, or Oporto, well, the name says it all…

My AFAR Wanderlist for Portugal:
http://www.afar.com/travelers/eleanor-hallewell/wanderlists/portugal

Photo: Fodor’s

Cuba – Cuba seems like a little secret to me. Growing up in the US, I quickly learned that it’s a country many consider off limits, unless you make the extra effort to fly via Mexico or Canada. However, having a British passport makes me feel I shouldn’t waste any time getting here. When I think of Cuba, a few stereotypical things come to mind… Cuban cigars, Che Guevara, old cars, rice and beans, old men sitting outside an even older bar playing chess, rum, Fidel Castro, the Embargo. So why do I want to go here?

Cuban Mojitos, Photo: JaketheSnake

I have a fascination with culture, specifically with rich cultures that have yet to be totally diffused or diluted by Western influence. Pair this with a rich, if tumultuous, history, and the intrigue is here. This place is practically in my backyard, and I can’t wait to explore the city of Havana, the beaches of the Southern coastline, and acquaint myself with the people of this island country.

My AFAR Wanderlist for Cuba:
http://www.afar.com/travelers/eleanor-hallewell/wanderlists/cuba-2014-travel-wishlist

Peggy’s Point, Nova Scotia

Canada – From what I have seen and researched, and from what my beloved Canadians who I have met on the road have told me, I have come to the conclusion that I will LOVE the coastlines of Canada. Every person I have ever met from British Columbia has basically convinced me to move there within minutes into a conversation. A mountainous coastline, world-class skiing, hiking, and yoga are all on offer here.

Then, I spend a few minutes researching the rugged coastline provinces of Newfoundland, Prince Edward Island and Nova Scotia, and they tease me to head east first. This opposite coastline looks idyllic and seems to have a serene beauty about it. I would love to spend time exploring both seaboards but there’s a lot not to be missed in between as well.

Prince Edward Island, Photo: tourismpei.com

The Rocky Mountaineer offers a 15-day coast to coast train ride that also allows you to explore Kamloops, the Canadian Rockies, Toronto and Montreal. Train travel stirs up a sense of nostalgia in me, and it would be a nice departure from my normal backpack and hostel routine. But the $5,000 price tag means I may be saving for a while before this dream is fulfilled.
http://www.rockymountaineer.com/en_US_CA/routes_and_packages/canadian_rocky/coast_to_coast

My AFAR Wanderlist for Canada:
http://www.afar.com/travelers/eleanor-hallewell/wanderlists/the-coasts-of-canada-2014-travel-wishlist

Glover’s Atoll, Photo: Fareboom.com

Belize- A good friend recently graduated from PA School. She talked of doing a trip before making a commitment to a 9-5. We talked of locations and criteria: somewhere warm, somewhere we could get to quickly, easily and on the cheap, and somewhere that wouldn’t break the budget. She said Belize, and I began to do the research. I scoured AFAR’s highlights, was immediately sold on the locale, and began planning a week -long trip.

Photo: wuhs.org

I’m not going to lie, it’s the middle of January, and despite being in Atlanta, the lows are dropping below 20. My bones are cold, I need some sunshine and Vitamin D. Belize won’t break the bank… I imagine it to be a good mix of fun and sun, with just enough culture to make it less hedonistic than perhaps it could be. It’s nice to know the ruins are there, but show me to the beach-side hammock and hand me a pina colada please…

My AFAR Wanderlist for Belize:
http://www.afar.com/travelers/eleanor-hallewell/wanderlists/belize-2014-travel-wishlist

Wineglass Bay, Photo: charterworld.com

Tasmania – All it took were a few pictures on a friend’s Facebook page to seal the deal here. I want to go to Tasmania and I want to go NOW! This place looks other-worldly. Not only are you surrounded by some of the most beautiful scenery I’ve seen (online), it seems like you can do it all here – hiking, fishing, kayaking, river cruising, biking, dining, wining, surfing…

Cradle Mountain Hike

This Australian island 11 hours from Melbourne packs it all in. You can even get a glimpse of the Tasmanian Devil (yes, it does exist) and a wallaby. You can cover the entire country by car in about two days, but with stops, 10 days seems to be a fair amount of time to really see Tassie.

My AFAR Wanderlist for Tasmania:
http://www.afar.com/travelers/eleanor-hallewell/wanderlists/tasmania-2014-travel-wish-list

All this talk of travel gives me itchy feet. I find myself between Kayak and Skyscanner, scoping out one-way tickets….Maybe I’ll kill two birds with one stone and just find a job overseas…Not a bad idea!