Well I got to Cuba while Castro was still there to dance salsa with me and it was wonderful except I couldn’t find him to ask for my dance. Food featured highly until I got sick at the end but there you go. Too much lobster maybe? And I wasn’t the one eating 3 lobsters in one night and having ice cream for lunch everyday either. Of course I totally approve. Life is short – eat dessert first! Still it’s nice to be poorly when you’re laid out on a sunbed by the pool, it’s hot and the waves of crystal clear water are beating against the shore not too far away. And you hear the three things that are missing from someone’s life apart from a significant other: a chrome plated dome shaped nut for a bathroom radiator to cover up the ugly brass bolt; an invisible shower curtain – perhaps compressed air; and finally a letter box that only accepts mail with a postage stamp on it. Life really is not that bad – especially when the travelling bit is over.
We managed to fly out a few hours before air traffic control systems went down. Phew! Way back was a nightmare as the Madrid connecting flight got cancelled and Iberia were totally crap. Do not fly Iberia. They are so rubbish. The flight was so hot and dry instead of asking for an extra blanket as usual I was doing a striptease – lots of Spanish people naturally and difficult to sleep with carnival breaking out every now and then. It’s this kind of travel that makes me wonder if I really want to do longhaul ever again. I was so dreaming of my own bed – alas I discovered on landing at HTW that the boiler was broken (we had let it run out of oil) and until it was fixed and the house got warm again from freezing, I had to extend my hols and stay with friends.
Life goes on in Cuba at a different pace. There seemed to be two different time zones at play – different by an hour so that was interesting. No wonder we had trouble finding a restaurant still serving food and had to wake up the portero to get back in the hotel. Ordering food at the café in the all inclusive hotel by the beach was fun. “We’ll have the ice cream please.” “Yes of course Madam. We’ll have some in 2 hours.” Things looked up when we found the buffet. Here we found “Show cooking: paste” – that’s what the sign said above the man making pasta. Great food and great display- best of all the Beetlegeuse effect. Seen the movie? The moment where the dinner guests become possessed by a spirit that makes them mambo number 5 or whatever it is to “Shake Shake Senora. Shake your body line”. Well here are all these people stalking around the buffet tables plate in hand, then the salsa band starts up and suddenly their step transforms into a wonderful wiggle to go with the music.
The Hotel Melia in Varadero was disappointing as I’d never spent so much on a hotel room and got so little value or had such an inefficient check-in. After much faffing around & trying to do a slippery deal with us, it was “Please fill in these cards” and he walked off without giving us pens. Jim and I just gave each other a ‘why bother’ look and dug into our luggage for our own pens. It was the most I’d ever paid for a hotel room anywhere in the world and I have been known to splash out from time to time. Ouch! But I did do the salsa lessons, check my hotmail, admire the fresco of nudes in bed painted on the bedroom wall, read the hurricane advice in the welcome pack with interest and was responsible for a full scale security investigation when my pool towel was stolen. The free shows were very funny too – particularly the very communist paying homage to the directors and the half costumes.
Salsa bands were de rigeur! Like at the famous Nacional Hotel where 2 guests were seriously strutting their stuff dirty dancing style amidst crowing cockerels. I got a taxi back and the driver was tooting at everyone and everything which came a step away from the road even if they were a mile away. May be it was his contribution to the rhythm of Cuba. I did hear ‘Cuanta la mera’ far too many times though. Live big bam band salsa is great but at breakfast? – Noooooooo thanks! Best music was a serenade in a restaurant by an excellent singer who sang beautiful Cuban love songs accompanied by a pianist. Very Buena Vista Social Club. Particularly amusing was the rest breaks and much chatting between songs.
The Hotel Raquel in Havana was also expensive but really wonderful and an experience to savour. Stunningly beautiful with stained glass dome and roof terrace. So terribly stylish – you expected to see a photo shoot for Vogue happening. It was a bit noisy and thank heavens I travel with ear plugs. Jim solved the mystery and it was not a penchant for pneumatic drills at 5am but water being pumped into the buildings. I did like the towel sculptures in that hotel.
Jim in Utah complained I wore too many clothes and now he complained I wasn’t wearing enough and may be burdened with unwanted attention from men. Well I still went out in my very short shorts and didn’t stop traffic after all. I have a lot of sunbathing to catch up on you see, so the white pegs had to get on show to change colour. And even when wearing jeans I still had as many “Welcome to Cuba!” and “Hello beautiful” salutations from the locals. Anyway to punish me for my boldness, Jim deserted me when I was taking pictures and was observing from afar when Lawrence sidled up to me – alas he was the most boring Englishman on the planet who curses be was a city boy turned Estate Agent. While Jim argued with the authorities about leaving his bag n valuables with the coat check, Lawrence and I strolled around the Revolution Museum silently fearing Jim was going to be locked up. Here he excitedly told me in the plumiest of accents how disgusted he was that he couldn’t buy Coca Cola in Havana – “I mean, REALLY!”. I thought I was going to have to break a Kalashnikov out of the glass case and shoot myself. What is about rich people? You think they could be intelligent, worldly and have good conversation too to get so far in life.
I certainly had more fun being taught to dance salsa in the local social club by a sociable local with brittle hands like you wouldn’t believe, while Jim got hussled by a young Cuban lady and her pimp mom. We had to make a quick exit. I loved Cuba but I didn’t like the being ripped off. It’s the price you have to pay as a tourist out there. If you see a Cuban granny dressed in white with a big flower and the biggest cigar you’ve ever seen, you’ll be paying a dollar to take her photo.
I’d definitely recommend it but don’t book last minute and arrange it yourselves like we did because that worked out very expensive. Don’t fly Iberia. Consider going to Cancun for the beach holiday and from there coming over to Havana. It’s well worth it. Don’t expect great things from the food. Have lots and lots of camera film. Expect a photogenic city with much charm and ambience. Flying back home, just saunter down the VIP lane rather than do the long queue for the immigration control. Here ends my Cuban tale.
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