Cuban Blog Day #22 Oh Hemingway

 I woke early to enjoy my last full day in Cuba.  I walked down Obispo Street, famous in Havana Vieja for its shops and cafes. I was a bit early for all the shops to be open, but it was good people watching.

I walked to the main square and rode up an elevator to the top floor of the eclectic 20^th century Gómez Vila building. This building has a periscope called Camera Obscura that gives a live view of the entire city.  It is one of only 74 in the world and the only one in Latin America and the Caribbean. It was really quite impressive. I had no idea such a thing existed.  It was a big circle display and could be zoomed into and out of so that you could see clothes on a line blowing in the wind or the flapping of a bird’s wings. It was a great way to get a full view of the city.

I stayed up top and took lots of pictures. I also wrote a bit, enjoying the peacefulness and calm being above the crowd brought.

Once down, I roamed the square, walked through the tiny, free playing card museum and a few churches and historical buildings. I had no set plan for my last day, and it was nice to just go where the sidewalk took me.

I stopped for lunch at a café on Obisbo Street and people watched.  I read a bit more of my Ernest Hemingway short stories.  I had brought with me to Cuba The Sun Also Rises and a collections of short stories by the great writer. I was using this trip and Hemingway as inspiration for my own writing. 

After lunch, I walked to Ambos Mundos, the hotel made famous by Hemingway who wrote two of his novels there, including his Pulitzer Prize winning, The Old Man and The Sea.  I paid the $2 CUC to take a private tour of room 511 where Hemingway stayed when he visited. Several of his fishing rods were displayed around the room, along with a few photos of Hemingway and Castro after a fishing tournament.  Most people believe that Hemingway and Castro had a strong friendship. This is made evident by all the photos of the two. But, upon closer inspection one will notice that both men are in the same attire in every picture. The two, in fact only met briefly during the fishing contest, which Castro is noted as winning.  

His typewriter was in the center of the small room, encased in glass.  I got particular joy out of seeing this and imagining him typing away on it.  A copy of his Pulitzer Prize award was framed on the wall along with several articles announcing his win.  Special attention was paid to the fact that the novel was written in Cuba.

It was a corner room with views of both Havana Vieja plaza, as well as the harbor where he’d often fish.  It was a typical hotel room which just happened to host a great and tormented writer every so often.

On the same floor as his room there is a rooftop bar and restaurant which offered more great views of the city. I stayed above and took more pictures. I made my way down and towards the artisanal market I had been to the day before. This time I was armed with money and ready to haggle. I ran into the Germans there and we walked around for a bit together, but I had business to take care of.  I bought art, and magnets, and postcards, and a Havana Club Guayabera shirt and so much more to take home as gifts and memorabilia. It was so much fun shopping and bargaining in the giant market.

I went back to the casa and drank a few Cuba Libres on my balcony.  Music was playing loudly from somewhere on the street below. I noticed people above and across from me looking out of their windows or out from their balconies. They were looking down to the street below where a man was dancing to the music. He was in the middle of the street, not minding the cars that wanted to pass him every so often, doing a mix between break dancing and I don’t know what.  More and more people came to their windows to watch the man below.  The guys across and one storey up from me invited me to come over and share a drink with them.  I cheers’ed them from across the way. We all watched, enjoying the free entertainment.  Soon a woman approached and instead of simply passing by the man, she joined him.  It was so quintessential Cuba- The loud salsa music, the crazy man dancing on the narrow street below, the neighbors all out viewing the spectacle. 

I enjoyed dinner with the Germans one last time. They were leaving very early the next morning and so headed back for an early night of packing.  I stayed out, with one more place I needed to go to call my travels in Cuba complete. La Floridita. The bar made famous by Hemingway. He’d walk to this bar in the evenings from Ambos Mundos after a long day of writing and wet his whistle with a daiquiri or five.

My plan was simply to have one daiquiri and call it a night. I had heard that the place was more of a tourist trap than anything, with over priced drinks and very little atmosphere, but I couldn’t not go to one of the great’s old stomping grounds. There is just something about being in the same place, seeing the same things, drinking the same cocktail, perhaps even sitting in the same barstool as someone you admire that spurs inspiration.

Sure enough, as I walked in I could see the place was full of mostly tourists. I sat at the bar and next to me was another America here on a legal, expensive tour, somehow having gotten away from his group. Tsk, Tsk. I ordered my daiquiri in Spanish and chatted with the man for a bit, till he left, probably worried about curfew.

Once he left, the three men next to him scooted over. They asked if I was Cuban, wondering why I ordered my drink in Spanish. I’m certain they were just looking for a way to slide over and talk to me.  I was in Cuba, didn’t everybody order their drinks in Spanish? The three men were from the Canary Islands, and they doted on me the rest of the evening. I more than made up for the drinks I had to buy the hustlers the day before.  I had a photo shot with the Hemingway statue at the end of the bar, I tried every kind of daiquiri they made there, I danced salsa with each of them. Even the bartenders seemed in on it, letting me behind the bar to make a few drinks myself.

It was absolutely the perfect last day in Havana- from the periscope, to the Hemingway hotel, to the dancing in the street, to the daiquiris, I saw it all.

Traveling tip # 25 Let them buy you drinks- There are few benefits of being a solo traveler as great as this. It keeps your budget down and lets you meet great people.