Latin America 2018 - Day 45. Old La Habana

My goal today is to visit the east side of Old Habana, which apparently has received most of the development money, both to protect the cultural patrimony of Cuba and to attract tourism. A big cruise ship docked today, so there are many tourists left loose through the town.

Highlights of my rambling through the town included the cathedral and its plaza, which are beautifully restored. Cubans are mostly Catholics, but communism considers all religions equally bad, so there is also a synagogue, a mosque, a Russian Orthodox church, and who knows whatever else.

After my overdose of early colonial history in Cartagena I was eager to also explore that time period in the history of La Habana. Sadly I didn’t meet with much success. There is a museum of the city, in a handsomely restored building, but it was a collection of old crockery, fancy furniture, and military paraphernalia that didn’t tell a story.

Delma had marked in my map a series of places she thought I might find interesting, which provided a basic skeleton for my walk. I saw many parks, the archaeologic excavation to expose the old city wall, music bands performing for the cruise tourists, and lots of interesting looking people. I was in a race against the oppressing heat of the early afternoon, and was doing my best to remain properly hydrated, but eventually I gave up and stopped at the iconic bar “La Floridita” for a mojito. The bar’s claim to fame is to have invented the daikiri at the behest of Hemingway, and the fame that discovery has given them was enough to justify triple the price, a packed tourist clientele, and a very nice tropical band (they even played Guantanamera, which I am sure they play at least once every hour). Unfortunately my mojito eventually came to an end and I had to once again face the brutal noon sun.

I must have done something in between, but honestly my brain was fried and I have no clear recollection of what it was. What I do remember, however, is that Delma had recommended me a restaurant right in front of the Capitolio and miraculously I found myself in front of it, right when I was ready to collapse. The restaurant is really three restaurants in three separate floors, and I chose the Asturianito in the first floor, which specializes in Spanish food (the street address is Paseo del Prado 563). It was dark and cool, there were dozens of waiters at my service, and the elegantly dressed capitán de meseros graciously suggested a cold sangria while I looked at the menu. A quick look at the prices convinced me that I had found the perfect restaurant with perfect prices, so I ordered a jar of deliciously cool sangria, a bowl of hearty fabada asturiana, and a dish of lamb in rosemary sauce that was to die for. The lamb was not the chewy mutton that you often found in restaurants, but suckling lamb that melted in your mouth; and there was a lot of it! The final tab, including a generous tip was only 25 CUC. I love it 😊

For the afternoon I continued my exploration of the old city, concentrating on the small forts that protected this side of Habana Bay. The real big fortress is on the other side of the harbor, so I took the small boat that ferries passengers to the other side, to go pay a very limited visit to the old fortress (now a military base), the Casa Blanca (but I have no idea if this is where Raúl Castro lives), and a big marble Christ that looks benevolently over the city. Goodness, it is hot here. Fortunately I came across a tiny stand that sold very cold beer and had a very welcoming shade.

I made my way back home in stages, from shade to shade, from mojito to mojito, and once I got here I drank five glasses of cold water while I chatted with Maricela, or Mari, who works here and every morning prepares me a great cup of coffee and a tasty breakfast. Nice to connect with my support group.

Latin America 2018 - Day 44. Around La Habana.

Today I met Delma, a very smart and personable mulatta, who provided me with a map of the city, and told me that the city counts with a hop on – hop off touribus. I have died and gone to heaven 😊 For only 10 CUC’s I will be able to ride all over the city, stop at paces of interest, and then catch the next bus to the next cool stop. Delma told me how to get there (piece of cake) and gave me her own version of how to be a smart tourist in La Habana. Not a bad reminder, because I had to walk about 12 blocks through the dingiest part of La Habana before reaching the Parque Central, where at 9 am I was to take the very first bus of the day. Probably the first thing I learned is that La Habana is a lot more handsome than the bad first impression I had gotten the day before. From the Parque Central we followed the Paseo del Prado all the way to the malecón, from which we could see, across the Habana Channel, the Spanish fortress. Curiously my informants don’t think it is a tourist destination, probably because most of those facilities are occupied by the Cuban army. I am fascinated by the crucial role that Cuba played in the Spanish invasion of the New World and wouldn’t mind steeping myself in the colonial history of the place. However, until know I have not discovered a single museum that deals with this period of Cuban history. Is it that the Revolution of 1959 has truly erased from the people their long colonial past? Note: I would say that 70% of the people I see are mulattos, because Cuba was a major consumer of African labor, so I wouldn’t blame them if they have no interest in that painful time in their history.

We followed the malecón to the west, passing some landmarks like the Hotel Nacional built in the 1930’s, and a couple of big hotels built by Americans shortly before the Revolution. From there we took the attractive Avenida de los Presidentes, and eventually made it to the Plaza de la Revolución. It was in this plaza that Fidel would engaged in his multi-hour speeches to the people of Cuba every May 1 (International Labor Day), and apparently is the center of the old American convertibles, which for 30 to 60 CUC’s will take you in an old-fashioned tour of La Habana. The plaza is of course a big open space surrounded by the ministry of this and the ministry of that. The three landmarks in it are the monument to José Martí (very impressive statue and 100-m spire behind it), a giant outline of the head of Che Guevára (with a quote of his “Hasta la victoria siempre”), and another of Camilo Cienfuegos (with the quote “Vas bien, Fidel”). Nicely done!

From the plaza we headed to the northwest, passed the Cementerio Colón (the largest cemetery in Latin America), crossed the Río Almendares, and entered a very nice part of Habana, dominated by the residential neighborhoods of Kohly and Miramar, and the rather swanky Quinta Avenida. By the sea side I really liked the Hotel Copacabana (and I kicked myself for not stopping by and asking for their prices). Eventually we came to the far end of our tour, in the “beach” called La Cecilia. This is a favorite spot among Habaneros, who come to swim off the cliffs (there is no beach per se), picknic under the scrawny palm trees, or take the little ones to the biggest amusement park in town. Besides walking through these areas, I took the guágua (Cuban for city bus) to the Hemingway International Marina, where I saw some nice Key West boats and the Viejo y el Mar Hotel (and here I asked for prices, which ranged from 50 to 100 CUC’s per night). Have you read “The Old Man and the Sea”? It is one of Hemingway’s finest short novels and I strongly recommend it.

I did stop at the Acuario Nacional (the aquarium), got ripped off with a 10 CUC entrance fee, and quickly walked through what at best was a 2 CUC shabby exposition. They did have dolphin and sea lions shows, but those were at an additional cost, and the kids were having a good time, but I wouldn’t recommend it as a touristic attraction.

Overall I had a good, tiring day, and it was with grateful relief that after 10 solid hours of tourism I made it back to my home sweet home. 

Latin America 2018 - Day 43. Cancún to La Habana

I arrived to the airport 15 minutes later than I had planned (9:15 am), but was happy to see that the counter of AeroMexico was clear, so I got immediate attention and had plenty of time to get the gate for my 10:50 am flight. Surprisingly, there were very few people there. Was I going to have an almost empty flight? No, it is just that the inhabitants of Cancún have a different sense of time, and apparently being there 60 to 30 minutes prior to departure counts as being on time.

The flight was completely uneventful, and I landed in La Habana one and a half hours later, ready to tackle this new adventure. I started by exchanging money, from dollars to CUC’s (Cuban convertible units). Someone, who shall remain unnamed, told me that the currency exchange accepted only dollars. Not so, and I wish I had brought my money in euros, Canadian dollars, or even Mexican pesos, because dollars trigger an automatic 10% conversion tax (consider it the way in which Cubans get even with the Gringos for 60 years of economic blockade). On top of that, the conversion rate is 1 US dollar = 0.968 CUC; if we incorporate both the tax and the conversion rate, then we get a real exchange rate of 1 dollar = 0.868 CUC, or 1 CUC = 1.15 US dollars. This unfavorable rate makes expenses in CUC’s 15% higher when accounted in dollars. For example, a 30 CUC taxi is really costing US$ 34.50, a 35 CUC room is costing US$ 40, and so on. It would not be a big thing, but for the fact that tourists pay 25 to 50 times more than Cuban citizens for just about anything. Now, I support charging the tourists more, but I also think 5 to10 times is fair. 25 to 50 times is, in my humble opinion, an attempt to fleece the tourist, and that cannot bode well for the nascent tourist industry of Cuba.

Cuban citizens use a different currency than tourists, called the Cuban peso or CUP. 1 CUC = 25 CUP, so when the cost of visiting the aquarium is 5 CUP for the Cuban adult, and 10 CUC for the foreign adult, then the latter is paying 50 times more!

A certain person who shall remain unnamed told me that I should go to the guest house of Esther, without any further indication. So I confidently asked the taxi driver to take me to Casa Esther, only to be lectured about how useless that was as an indication. “There are thousands of Esthers in La Habana. Why my mother is called Esther.”, complained the taxi driver. “Very well, then take me to your mother’s house.”, I retorted. You can imagine how well my witticism was received. At the end I told him to take me to a house he could recommend in the old Habana, which he did. I landed at the house of Nuria Barrios. Neptuno No. 1024, esquina con Espada. Phones (+53) 7 879 4029, (+53) 5 817 2997 (cell and WhatsApp), (+53) 5 264 8186 (cell and WhatsApp). Emails nuriabeatriz1908@gmail.com, fabbeds@fabbeds.com.

I was a bit unhappy about location because this part of La Habana is quite run down. In retrospect I could have asked the taxi to take me to one of the newer or better kept parts of town, such as Avenida de Los Presidentes, Barrio Miramar, or Barrio Kolhey (where Finlay did his seminal research work on Yellow Fever in 1881). True, transportation would have been more of a challenge, but at least you would be walking through nice neighborhoods rather than fearing that a façade would collapse over you. Mind you, I have no idea if there are guest houses in those neighborhoods but I think it would be worth giving it a try.

On the other hand, Nuria was a font of very useful information about what to see and do in La Habana in particular, and Cuba in general. But before I get there, given that she was not there when I got to the house, the empleada showed me to a very comfortable room that I engaged for 35 CUC. I left my stuff in the room and took to the streets. On the way in I had mapped the neighborhood in my head, so I undid a few blocks to go visit the Universidad de La Habana, and from there drifted to the Barrio de La Rampa. I had the idea of renting a motorcycle, but my informants really had no idea where I could do that and just kept pointing me in the direction of the older big hotels. I had a seafood lunch along the way (acceptable but not great), and eventually went past a festival entitled Arte en La Rampa, and for 2 CUC’s went into a large building where they had shoes, handcrafts, a gallery of photos of Che Guevára, and a stage where young singers were presenting their songs. They were pretty good, and I must have heard their singing for nearly 2 hours. After that I went to another stage, where a band that would have made Santana proud was jamming very cool dance music. I enjoyed them for another hour, and then realized that the heat of the afternoon had abated, and that it would be a fine time to go to the malecón (the seaside promenade).

It is a fine malecón, very suitable for cruising in a pink Cadillac convertible, but it is totally devoid of shade! In Mexico the malecón would be shaded by hundreds of palms borrachas de sol, inviting the residents to go for an evening stroll, for the kids to run and play, for novios to walk holding hands and sharing kisses, and for dozens of street vendors to sell fruit, yummy tacos, popcorn, or cotton candy. Alas, not here, where the malecón is completely bare and nobody on his right mind would think on strolling along it under the sun. After a block I turned away, thinking it was time get back. I had made a long loop, and was flying by instruments, but in no time whatsoever found known landmarks. I was almost at my residence when a black couple engaged me in conversation, made big exclamations of delight on knowing I was Mexican, and insisted on showing me some cool places near my home. The places were interesting but very dingy, and when they walked me into a bar where I just had to order the best mojito n Habana I knew I had fallen for one of the oldest scams in the world. So I politely declined to order anything and said goodbye; then I got the “we are hungry and could you please buy us some milk?”, apologized for not being to help them, and walked out. Unfortunately there are dozens of these scams to help the government fleece the tourist, so I will have to be very alert.

I was a bit miffed with the world when I got home and finally met Nuria, a portly woman with a motherly disposition, who immediately welcomed me to La Habana, and set me at ease with her standard list of admonitions: “Whenever someone offers to show you around say to them ‘No, thank you. I prefer to be alone.’.” She also interrogated me about my plans, injected a good dose of reality check in them, and helped me map a good itinerary for my two weeks here (I had bought a country map, and she deftly drew a day-by-day itinerary of where to go and what to do). I believe I understand how things work here: She has a general plan, so she is going to mobilize her network of guest houses and colectivos, so a car will come to collect me in three days and drive me (and other travelers) to Viňales, for a three night stay at a guest house in her network. My Viňales host will then arrange the following colectivo to take me to Cienfuegos, and after two nights the pattern will repeat to take me to Trinidad, then to Varaderos and finally back to La Habana for one last night before Nuria’s husband drives to the airport. I am taking a leap of faith and trusting my newly-acquired travel agent! 

Latin America 2018 - Day 42. Bogotá to Cancún.

I am bored. I have tried to adapt to the life of a Bogotano by going for walks through my neighborhood, which includes a couple of parks and any number of small shops. The min avenues are crazy with traffic, but between them there are blocks of quiet residences interspersed with restaurants, pharmacies, and panaderías. The latter play a crucial role in Colombian life, because here the main meal—with soup, salad, and a meat dish—is taken between noon and 2 pm. In the evening, from 6 to 9 pm, the folks here eat the merienda, which is usually composed by sweet bread and chocolate. Last night I went for my merienda to the local panadería, where I had a delicious cup of foaming chocolate accompanied by a big butterfly coated in chocolate and colored sugar chips. Yummy.

Today in the morning I went back to the panadería, at 7 am, to have a favorite Colombian breakfast: a bowl of soup (chicken or pork riblets with potatoes or yucca) and a café con leche with a brioche. I could have also ordered a tamal, but I have been overeating for two weeks and it is time to give my tummy a rest.

By the side of the panadería, was a peluquería that had been open since 6 am, where for US$ 4 I had a hair cut and a nice conversation with the barber. Colombia has elected a new president, but he has not taken office, so the talk here is about the choices made for the cabinet members.

In four more hours I will drive to the airport, return my trusty rental car with an additional 4,000 km in the odometer, and then wait until 4 pm for my flight to Cancún, where I will arrive at 7 pm. My cousin Paty and her family will pick me at the airport, take me to their home for the night, and then deliver me back at the airport at 9 am for the next stage of my trip: Cuba!

I am not sure what my access to the internet is going to be for the next couple of weeks, so I am going to bring this blog to its end. It has been a lot of fun traveling through Latin America, saying hello to my cultural brothers and sisters. I hope the tale of my travels will trigger your curiosity and that you too will feel itchy feet and come visit.

Latin America 2018 - Day 41. Puerto Boyaca to Bogotá.

Well, it was a bit of a disappointment but the trip to Bogotá was a lot easier than I had thought. I had braced myself for spending 8 hours climbing the Cordillera Este, but after just half hour I connected with a brand new six-lane highway on which I cut the distance by half. Yes, there was a bit of a tough, trafficky climb, but that was just a couple of hours, and the rest of the trip was in a four-lane highway. Thanks to the convenient grid pattern of the city I had no problem finding the Airport Travel Inn by noon.

I had lunch at a local cocina económica, the type that city workers favor for having good food, fast service, and a low price. For US$ 4 I had a bowl of soup, salad, rice, fried plantain, yucca, two delicious ox tail pieces cooked in a yellow sauce, two glasses of pineapple water, dessert, and coffee. I definitely overate but, since I have nothing else to do, I was able to get back to my comfortable hotel and take a well-deserved siesta.

The afternoon has passed slowly, separating debris from stuff I actually have to take with me for the next stage of my trip. Unfortunately I have to leave behind travel guides, a butcher’s knife, a glass, a cup, an empty bottle of Aguardiente Antioqueňo, empty bottles of water and soda, and any number of plastic bags (I love the fact that here they give you a bag to take your purchases home).

Latin America 2018 - Day 40. Bosconia to Puerto Boyaca

Last night I slept at a very comfortable roadside hotel in Bosconia (sounds like the kind of place that Tin Tin and Miloú would have one of their adventures, doesn’t it?), and at about 8:30 am I continued on my way north for another 400 km until I reached Puerto Boyaca.

Not much to report, besides saying that it was all green beautiful sabana (a lot more fertile than the Venezuelan sabana, probably due to the annual floods and the silt they carry).

I do have a story to tell, however: The western foothills of Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta happen to be where Gabriel García Márquez located the mythical town of Macondo in Cién Aňos de Soledad. José Arcadio Buendía and his wife Ursula used to live near Riohacha, and from there they traveled west, crossing the mountains, until they found La Cienega (the floodplain of the estuary). They then decided to establish Macondo on the western foothills. Now that you have a geographic reference you might want to pick up Cién Aňos de Soledad, which I know has been in your list of books to read for many years.

Tomorrow I will make my final approach to Bogotá.  

Latin America 2018 - Day 39. The Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta

Today I drove, as far as prudence would have it, deep into the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta. This range is short, but very high, and is a continuation of the magmatic arc. I expected to find a lot of volcanic rocks (and they may be very abundant at higher elevations), but instead found a foundation of deeply weathered intrusive rocks (DG, or decomposed granite in the parlance of geotechnical engineers). I am pretty sure that this are Mesozoic intrusions, not unlike the ones of the Sierra Nevada of California.

The call to fame of the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta is that, starting at sea level, within a few kilometers of the coast rises to 5,775 m (18,950 ft), in the form of the Nevados Cristobal Colón and Simón Bolivar. I did not get to see them because of the cloud cover, but here is a phot from the internet to show you how pretty they are.

There are very few mountains that rise so abruptly from sea level. Let me see, we have Mauna Loa in Hawaii (4,169 m), Mount Kinabalu in Borneo (4,095 m), Mount Fuji in Japan (3,766 m), Pico del Teide in Tenerife (3,718), Mount Etna in Sicily (3,350 m), and the San Gabriel Mountains in California (3,068 m), so you can see that the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta proudly occupies the first place among this distinguished mountainhood. Incidentally, with Santa Marta I complete my personal acquaintance with huge coastal mountains!

Once I got down I started on my way to Bogotá. I have two and a half days to get there, so I should be able to do it without any heartburn. Of course I still have to face the slow mountain roads, and probably between 10 and 20 toll stations. The toll one pays at each station is not too high (2 to 4 US dollars), but the darn things pop up every 30 to 50 km. I should have kept count of the total number of stations I passed. In total I am pretty sure it is going to be close to 40 stations.