Browsing Category

Havana

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, 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.