| Cuba |
La Habana, que ciudad mas bella!When we walk out of the airport, a warm breeze scented with tropical aromas welcomes us. We grab a taxi and ask the driver to bring us to Luyano, a barrio in the Bahia de La Habana. The taxi takes us through wide, stately avenues, with few street lanterns. Blue, pink, green houses with pillars at each side of the front door supporting beautiful balconies. It is very quiet in the outer suburbs of La Habana at this hour of the night. Here and there, men are sitting in poorly illuminated porches, chatting and drinking ron. Some young women in short skirts and tiny tops pass by, on their way to go out. Approaching Cuba by plane, we were struck by the darkness of the island. A few scattered spots of light, surrounded by vast seas of darkness. We expected La Habana to be bathing in an ocean of light, but none of this!, it was still pitch black beneath us when the plane started losing height quickly and prepared for the descent on the -fortunately- illuminated landing strip. Still hovering in the skies, this pure darkness thrilled us and made us all the more curious to explore the island. In the labyrinth of streets in Luyano, we finally find our casa. A pastel-blue colonial house. Our friends live on the first floor. Mercedes, her two daughters and their two boys are watching "La Fuerza del Deseo" (the power of desire), a very popular Brazilian soap. After a warm welcome we retire to our room, eager to catch up on some sleep. The sun creeps through the shutters in our spacious room. On the roof next door some men are enjoying their first coffee of the day. We cannot wait to explore La Habana and after a cafe con leche we leave our casa. The streets are slightly hilly and the asphalt somewhat decayed. In daylight we can see that most of the houses badly need some paint. Nevertheless they beam forth proudness, reflecting a rich past. A roaring noise approaches, announcing a car. A huge red-and-white Plymouth with giant tailfins sails by, a beauty half a century old now. At the corner of the street we pass the shop where the Cubans get their rations of bread, rice, beans and vegetables with their libreta (ration book). On a panel is written what is available today. We leave Luyano and enter Habana Vieja. Ah el malecon Habanero ! What a delight to stroll along the malecon, passing fishermen and enjoying the cool breeze. The sun is high up in the sky. We dive into the small streets of Habana Vieja. Almost no traffic here. Front doors and windows are opened onto the street. On balconies, laundry is drying in the sun. A woman with rollers in her hair (a very common sight in Cuba), is having a talk with her neighbour. The sun shines on her beautiful façade (the house). I quickly take a picture. This sight has to be immortalised. In a bar in Obispo, "La Casa del Escabeche", we order a mojito (a delicious mixture of sugar, lemon juice, mint leaves (or hierba buena), a royal amount of rum, and sparkling water) and a daily habit is born. A Cuban band is playing some musica. When I come back from the bathroom, a Cubano has joined our table. He tells us he is Emilio Correa, once world champion boxing, but now at 38 retired and working as security in the bar. When we tell him we are from Belgium, he says his girlfriend is living in Brussels. Pure luck (this luck will follow us throughout all of Cuba)! He asks us if we are interested in buying cigars and warns us never to buy them on the street. His father has been working in Partagas for 43 years now and he can get the Cohibas Esplendidos for us at one fifth of the official price. Anyway, we are not interested, not yet. The mojito is excellent but , on an almost empty stomach, rises quickly to the head. When we finish, Emilio asks us to buy him one. Como no ? We leave him with a newly filled glass, ready to find some other tourists. With dizzy heads we get out onto the street, and search for something to eat. A Cuban asks us if we want to eat at his paladar (private restaurant), but we decline his offer. We've set our minds on the huge ham-and-cheese-sandwiches sold in small stalls in the street, next to pizzas or ice-cream. The price is written on a wooden board : 1 $ for a sandwich. One dollar or one peso ? We notice the Cubans pay in pesos and we change some dollars into pesos. The sandwich is delicious. In 'La lluvia del Oro', still in Obispo, time for a cafe Cubano. The small, strong black coffee with lots of sugar, gives us an energy-boost. We keep walking all day long, from one plaza to the other, peeping into beautiful silent patios where time seems to stand still, resting on wooden benches in the shadow of trees, watching the Cubans (and the tourists) and enjoying the feeling of freedom and the sensation of traveling. At night, Mercedes prepares arroz con frijoles, platanos fritos y pollo (rice with black beans, baked green bananas, and chicken). Nothing as tasty after a day of walking in the city! After dinner we stay at table for a long time, talking with the family, haciendo sobremesa. Next morning it is still dark outside when we wake up. We doze till 8. Today we take the guagua (the bus) to La Chorrera, the end of the malecon, past Habana Vieja and Vedado. A bunch of people is waiting at the bus-stop. We pay 40 centavos and get on the already crowded bus. We are the only non-Cubans. It is an interesting drive along Calzada Infante and then Linea, passing impressive casas and enjoying the lively atmosphere on the bus. At the last stop we get out. The sky is overcast and, now and then, the heavens open and a shower pours down. Refreshing. The first part of our walk is very quiet, but not beautiful. Old three-story buildings in concrete and some skyscrapers. We reach Hotel Nacional. Majestically overlooking the malecon, it is one of La Habana's top hotels. Shiny cabs line up before the entrance. We enter the big hall and walk out on the terrace. White cane chairs in the gallery surrounding the patio invite for a rest. Cafe latte is highly demanded at this hour. We walk into the green and tranquil garden. At the end a terrace with gracefully elaborated chairs and tables in cast iron and a superb view on the malecon. This looks like a good place to taste a Cuban puro (cigar), but, on an empty stomach, it is maybe not a very good idea. With a hot, cheesy pizza dripping with tomato sauce in our hands -and gradually getting into our mouths-, we walk up La Rampa till Cine Yara and there, in front of us, is Coppelia, since the movie "Fresa y Chocolate" one of the world's most famous ice-cream parlors. Long rows of people on the pavement. Waiting for the bus? We walk in, are stopped by a security guard, tell him we want to have a look inside and walk on. Several terraces surround a giant futuristic building. We are brought to a table where we join a Cuban lady and her son and order una ensalada de helados. Around us people come, wait, order, eat, and go. Everything is very well organized. We are the only foreigners. A bit strange, we think, but with the arrival of our ice, we forget about it. Mmmm the strawberry and chocolate ice-cream is simply delicious...each spoonful a fiesta for our palate. Afterwards we realize that the people waiting on the pavement are not waiting for the bus, but waiting to get in Coppelia. With every person leaving, somebody gets in, and everybody waits patiently his turn. We, ignorant foreigners, have been very rude. But no worries, we are beginning to learn the rules. We continue our walk along the malecon and walk through Centro Habana to Parque de la Fraternidad where we sink down on a bench, facing some old Cubans, two men and a woman. Brown faces with wrinkles around the eyes from laughing a lot in life, faces radiating the Cuban sun. They are involved in an animated conversation. One of the men has a small ron bottle in the pocket of his shirt and, now and then, refills the plastic cups of his friends. We cannot keep our eyes off them, they could have been snatched right away from Buena Vista Social Club. Talking, drinking a bit, laughing, enjoying the sun and the park, without hurries nor worries. Time, precious time, plenty of time for the Cubans. Paul says "This looks like a good way to spend my old days…". Seguro que si! After a while one of the men walks away, a little unsteady. The Capitolio, dominating the plaza, invites us for a visit. It opened in 1929 after three years and fifty days of labor by 5000 men. When you enter, you are bidden welcome by 17 meters of copper, representing the effeminate Jupiter. We walk through the Salon de los Pasos Perdidos, and admire the former chambers of the Cuban congress. A grand building, reflecting a long bygone era. After two days in La Habana under the sun of the tropics, Belgium seems far away. Relaxed, we sit down on the terrace of the Capitolio. Beneath us, the crawling business on the plaza : taxis riding on and off, pink and blue camellos (very long bus with two bumps on the back like a camel) at the bus-stop absorbing long rows of people, tourists making pictures, Cuban children playing pelota (baseball) from one side of the street to the other. We sip our coffee and get out notebook and Lonely Planet. The moment has arrived to do some planning. Walking back home along the malecon, the late afternoon waves splash high up and kids play in the large pools of seawater. Next day, after having bought our bus tickets for Trinidad for the following day, we visit Cemeterio Colon, Cuba's largest cemetery. Once on the outskirts of La Habana, it is now absorbed by the city and forms an island of greenery and peace near the heart of Vedado. Cemeterio Colon reminds us a bit of Père Lachaise in Paris : a quiet and peaceful place with lanes lined up with impressive graves, resting in the shadow of old trees. A friendly security officer tells us about the most important graves. She leads us to "La dueña y el perro", the tomb of an American woman who often traveled to Cuba, but died on one of her trips. Her dog visited the grave each day and is later buried with her. "La Milagrosa" is the most famous of the dead here. She died with a baby in her womb. The baby was buried between the legs of the mother, but, years later, when the bodies were exhumed, they found the mother with the baby in her arms. Since then the grave carries the name "La Milagrosa" (the miraculous). Many people come to venerate the tomb and it is always covered with flowers. "Walk around once, without turning your back to the grave, and at the end, do a wish." In another lane "Los dominos", still another story. A woman, who often played domino (a game very popular among Cubans), was once playing an important game. She played the wrong piece and lost. She was taken aback so much that she had a heart attack and died. On the tomb, the domino game is sculpted. We continue our walk to the Plaza de la Revolucion, the headquarters of El Comite Central del Partido Comunista de Cuba. Severe concrete buildings surround the plaza, grey and ugly, "Venceremos" on their roofs in big steel characters. Hoping to get a glimpse of Fidel, I cross a lawn leading me closer to the building that houses his office. A prompt "Fuera!" from one of the guards scares me off. No Fidel today. Well, I'll have to be content with a visit to Memorial Jose Marti. I walk to the back of the monument, and, facing Fidels office, take a picture of the building. Ha! We're getting hungry, and the empanadas de queso (cheese fritter) sold on the street just ask to be eaten. A batido de fruta bomba (papaya shake) drains down the last crumbs. We end our walk with a leisurely stroll through the quiet streets of Vedado. Bright red hibiscuses turn their yellow pestles to the sun. Behind the hedges, lush gardens doze in the afternoon warmth. The sweet scent of the flowers around me makes my head spin, and happy, I run forward, the sun glowing on my slightly burnt skin. La Habana, que ciudad mas bella!
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