12th November, 2013

Touring Cuba, the way we have, reminds me of when I walked across burning coals.

At the time you are so overwhelmed by the experience it is difficult for it all to sink in. It's only once you climb onto the Virgin plane to go home do you start to comprehend what an amazing journey it has been.

Trinidad is a stunning town, a UNESCO world heritage site with the most magnificent buildings, stuck in between a 400 year old heritage and coming to a grinding halt in the '50s. There are no regulated standards for accommodation, which is all priced between 35-40CUC per room (R3-400). You may be lucky and stay in a well-furnished place with nice linen and cutlery or....not. Food has little variety and the menu is stuck on pork, chicken and seafood accompanied by salad (cucumber, tomato, grated cabbage and sometimes avo), rice with black beans, bread and fruit - guavas, papaya and white pineapple. (Be careful as papaya in Cuban has another meaning and you may be asking for female genitals!)

Up to this point we believe we have seen Cuba at it most 'native' with hardly any tourists, which is probably why our red number plates have been drawing such interest. Trinidad on the other hand is seething with tourists, bringing along with them the need to tout, push up prices, litter and a plethora of souvenirs and Chinese crap.

For the seasoned African driver self-driving in Cuba is not difficult. It is run on a horse and pedal power, with a few motorbikes thrown in (side cars are popular in the towns and cities). Between them and pedestrians they have the right of way and they are not intimidated by large trucks. Overtaking on the bumpy roads can be hair-raising. At the onset of our trip it was decided that Rob and Llyris would drive, assigning them the two front seats. Joan and I happily settled in the back and we were frequently 'shushed' when we chirped with any driving instructions or contributions to directions. When the driving became hazardous Joan would embryonically wedge herself between her seat and the door, curling herself into a foetal ball small enough to fit back in her mother's tummy! We knew things were getting bad when Joan started to wedge.

Our hosts were Rita and Pepe. Llyris and Joan stayed with a doctor and his wife about a block away. When we arrived Pepe stupidly handed Llyris the keys to his bike and off she and Rob went on the cobbled road. I am not sure who was more surprised Pepe or me. Couldn't believe he could be so stupid!!

The next day we drove into the Topes de Collantes to hike to the waterfall, along with hundreds of others (sadly). I was under the impression that it was an easy walk. Bah! So not. A 5km round trip, admittedly in a beautiful lush forest, but descending steeply to the falls and a pool. What goes down must come up and if it wasn't for the refreshing swim in the pool at the bottom, I don't think I would have made it back.

We drove down the Peninsula Ancon and swam in a better version of the Caribbean (Santiego de Cuba having been hugely disappointing). It was after 4 but a lone fellow still insisted on hiring out goggles for 3CUC (R30). When he wanted 1CUC for parking we all barked at him! We drove a little further down the beach to a bar and had 'the best mojitos' in town watching the sun set (everyone claims to make ‘The best mojitos).

Dinner was at our house and whilst 10CUC is excellent value the precious lobster was over cooked. Rob and I walked around the buzzing town after dinner following the sound of live music. The square was writhing with tourists fawning over the local talent, desperate to move their salsa hips to the infectious music. 

Robert dining under the brassier - literally!!

6th November, 2013

Oi vey but that was a long way.

Santa Clara to Santiego de Cuba (or as Rob calls it Cuba de Santiego, or Santa Cuba depending on how muddled he feels). We seemed to travel the whole world to get there, Venezuela, Florida, Colorado, Uruguay and yesterday we saw Australia, reminiscent of our drive from Pongola to Johannesburg which we did via Amsterdam and Belfast. Everyone seems to borrow names – so who did come first?

But, boy, did yesterday fell like a whirl wind tour. 9 hours with Rob and Llyris sharing the driving. The road was fine, until Llyris took over when she went crashing into the worst pot holes we have encountered. The shocks on our Gleagle are just that - shot. Road signs are a little dubious, with Camaguey (pronounced Camaway) changing its mind on a regular basis dropping or adding kilometres when it feels like it. How we have ever found our establishments is a pure a miracle with no maps. The trick is to pick up a runner who either literally runs in front of the car or hops in - with Llyris growling from the front "who is this man?"

People along the road have not been particularly friendly, in fact viewing us with disdain. It can be disconcerting. You have to be careful where you take pics. Our hosts have all been great and cannot do enough for us, but the average guy on the street glares with almost hatred at our red number plates (clearly indicating we are foreign). The double currency also lands up costing us a premium as everything costs CUC1 ($1) no matter what it is.

It is quite fun being in a place where buxom is beautiful and people certainly aren't starving. Their status quo is also a little confusing with some saying it’s impossible to travel whilst others have family 'in the States' who they see regularly.

Our hosts in SdC are very embracing. Carolina is a professor of architecture at the University and her husband, Renaldo, is 'the best chef in town' says Carolina as she pats his rotund tummy. Tonight we shall eat with them. Last night we went to a casa particular and had mojitos (finally) and I stuck to shrimps, knowing I can't go wrong. It was an excellent meal for CUC 34 - half the price of Santa Clara and 1/3 of Havana.

Address: 556 San Francisco Street, Santiago de Cuba. 

Hosts: Carolina and Rolando.

San Francisco Street. One of the main roads - 

and, gasp, so narrow!

One of the many nerve wracking moments in 

San Francisco Street -

trucks rushing down a whisker away from our Gleagle!

Roof top view by day....

.....and by night!! A stiff G&T before dinner.

A journey filled with salsa, sunshine

and a bunch of silly people.

This merry little band is made up of my cousin Llyris Berry, her friend, Joan Mauchline, and the love of my life, Robert Stock.

This blog is not intended to be a travel guide but a shared experience with some tips on how we survived the revolution, sipped mojitos, skidded over pot-holes, enjoyed interesting home-stays, all the while being embraced by Cuba and its colourful people.

2 weeks in Cuba and 2,500 kilometres later I think we can justifiably say that we have travelled the length and breadth of this fascinating island. 1,250 kms wide, with an average width of 100km Cuba remains in a time warp stuck somewhere in the ‘50’s. It is a dichotomy on every level – physically, economically, emotionally and politically.

We used the following reference books on Cuba:

Eyewitness Travel

Insight Guides

Lonely Planet.

Car reservations and hotel bookings were made with Alberto Barrientos from Caribbean Travel and Trading Group: sales@cubanjourneys.com and our man on the ground was Sergio Ameneiro ameneiros@cubanjourneys.com – and they come highly recommended!!

The 2 week holiday, including return airfares from Johannesburg-London-Havana (with Virgin), car rental, fuel, food and accommodation in Casa Particulars (home-stays) will cost in the region of R30,000 (US$3,000) per person (with 4 travellers).

Pour yourself a stiff rum, settle down and join us as we salsa our way around Cuba……

Our journey started on Monday 4th November, 2013. We had broken the long flight to Havana by staying with an old school friend in Northumberland, in the UK, for a couple of days before joining our travel companions at Gatwick. Jane kindly took us to the airport in Newcastle at 4am in the freezing cold, where unbelievably people were already drinking beer and wine in the departure lounge. Nothing like starting the working week with a shot in the liver.

As we boarded the plane following a dull line of black clad people, the traditional garb of Londoners, we stood out like a sore thumb with Rob in his blue and yellow Jules hounds pants (I am sure they are supposed to be pajamas!) and me in my Sri Lankan dress with leggings that don't really match. We met up with Llyris and Joan, who added to the colour combo.

The flight was jam packed with package holiday makers. I sat next to Debra from Chiswick who also has a house in Provence. We were probably the youngest on the plane.

We arrived in Havana at 5.30pm in the rain. The immigration queue was a nightmare with a laborious process to examine exactly who you are. Our luggage took forever to crash onto the noisy carousel. The rather gorgeous Sergio, our man on the ground, met us and promptly announced there was a 'slight problem with car' as the previous renter has dinged it, so it won't be ready on time. Gathering by the gesticulations our taxi voucher was also under debate.

That sorted we drove into Havana to the Park View Hotel, clutching our vouchers, only to be told there was a 'slight problem' and we were moved to another 4 star hotel, Palacio O'Farrill, a couple of blocks away. A drink was now necessary. A rum each, a glass of wine and beer cost more than the meal of pork and shrimp.

Whilst we were grateful for air conditioning, it is piped and freezing. 4 star is also probably a local classification! Towels are teeny and the hot water, well, not. The building was an ancient fort consisting of 18, 19 and 20th century structures. We are in the 18th Century, in the bowels of the old fort, with no windows.

With the delay of the car we changed our itinerary preferring to drive a shorter distance on the first day rather than stress out getting to Camaguey.  Quite sure that 'we have a problem' is about to be our mantra.

Llyris is in charge of finances, Rob driver and itinerary, I am admin and record keeping and Joan slipped in with an easy 'photographer'.

Cuba has an interesting monetary system:  locals use pesos and foreigners have a dedicated currency called the CUC. Exchange rate R10/US$1 = 1 CUC. CUCs are only available in Cuba.

5^th November, 2013

With the delay in delivering the car, we walked around Old Havana in the vicinity of our hotel, where the road is completely dug up making way for underground cables. 

We met Cesar and his pink Cadillac and promised to find him on our way back. We took pics with 'Morgan Freeman' and his plastic gun and truncheon. We got caught in intermittent showers that were polite enough to stop as quickly as they started.

We also challenged the hotel for what we still believe to be a massively incorrect booze bill. We gave up as our Financial Director (Llyris) had chucked the bill.

Sergio came with the car and the contract, and separating from more CUC's for insurance and a full tank of fuel, we took possession of our Gleagle (we have never heard of these cars before either!) - we headed off towards Santa Clara - or so we thought. After going at least 10kms in the wrong direction we went back to where we started this time going eastwards. Now, 2 hours behind schedule we hit the right road - in the pouring rain.

When we finally found the A1 it was a surprisingly good 3 lane highway. Cuba is run by horse power - literally. Horses and buggies are everywhere - even coming at you in the wrong direction.

We reached Santa Clara at about 4.30pm - after getting horribly lost, or so we thought, only to discover that we were actually a couple of blocks away from our home stay.

.

Llyris and Joan are about a block away in another house. Each one competing for decor parallel to that of Kassies Baai! Sort of retro kitsch.

We walked to Revolution Square. This is distinctly Che country and he is revered everywhere. We had a good tot of rum in a bar on the way home, and a super meal at a restaurant called Renaldos.

Our hosts are very pleasant, as are Llyris's - an ex teacher who says he earned $22 a month. He no longer teaches.

Our homestay address:  Valdez Perez, 106 Luis Estevez St, Santa Clara. Hosts: Teresita and Roberto.