Cuban Blog Day #8 Know How You're Paying and Bring Snacks

 

 

I woke super early and walked along the beach past the baseball stadium, over a very questionable bridge into a tiny town where Playa Blanca is located.  I was nearly alone walking for about an hour on the beach because it was so early, though when I returned it was crowded with locals, swimming and playing soccer barefoot.

 Playa Blanca is a tiny white sand beach with just a tiny shore between rocks I was afraid of swimming out through. I was alone on it for a small time and then a family joined me. They were cleaning fish that they’d recently caught. The girl, about 9 years old, spoke with me and showed me the various things she’d found on the beach, including her collection of tiny hermit crabs and various rocks and coral. She called me tia (aunt) and kissed me goodbye when they left.

I watched her father and grandfather swim out through the rocks and knew it was safe, so I followed.  Later they got into a small pool made from other rocks. The pool would rise and fall with the tide.  The girl asked me to join them then grabbed my hand when I was a bit reluctant.  I would have not done any of it, if I hadn’t seen them do it first. It looked a bit dangerous.

They offered me coffee and I offered the little girl the only thing I had to offer- a magazine. I told her she could practice her English with it, which she had been trying to use while talking to me. She smiled, kissed me again on the cheek and ran to show her mother.

A man on the beach had asked me a few times if I wanted to go on a tour to the caves. He waited around for me, brought me a coconut. I finally decided to go when he said it was $6 peso, very excited to finally be using my pesos instead of CUC. 

I had only flip flops and wished the whole time I had my Chacos or other better hiking shoes. We walked way up into some caves, saw a beautiful view of the sea and Baracoaand finally arrived in some lower caves where there was a natural pool. It was awesome, super dark and clear, cool water.  It wasn’t big but the water at points was up to my shoulders and it was just incredible to be swimming in a cave. I wasn’t expecting to find that.

I finally headed back. I’d spent about lovely 9 hours there and would have liked to stay longer, but there was no where to eat. I was starving and had drunk all my water as well.  I walked back along the now crowded beach, ate dinner at a restaurant in town and went back to the casa and wrote and read.

 

Traveling tip #9 Know How You’re Paying- I’d asked a barman in Santiago how I know the difference between the CUC and the peso when people say it.  They all seem to say peso and this is confusing. He’d said the CUC is generally the CUC or the dollar and the peso is the peso national.  When my guide to the caves told me pesos, I thought it was pesos national. Of course it wasn’t. Mostly I believe this is their fault for not being clear, but to be on the safe side be sure to confirm how you will be paying to avoid any confusion.

traveling Tip #10 Bring snacks. I bring snacks with me from home any time I travel, granola bars and lollies, crackers and the like. You can also get snacks wherever you are, just be sure to always have some with you. These are great for bus rides and any time you might be stuck on a very private, beautiful beach in a town that is so small there aren't any restaurants. I did have snacks on this beach, they just weren't substantial enough to edge my hunger.

Cuban Blog Day #8 Know How You're Paying and Bring Snacks

 

 

I woke super early and walked along the beach past the baseball stadium, over a very questionable bridge into a tiny town where Playa Blanca is located.  I was nearly alone walking for about an hour on the beach because it was so early, though when I returned it was crowded with locals, swimming and playing soccer barefoot.

 Playa Blanca is a tiny white sand beach with just a tiny shore between rocks I was afraid of swimming out through. I was alone on it for a small time and then a family joined me. They were cleaning fish that they’d recently caught. The girl, about 9 years old, spoke with me and showed me the various things she’d found on the beach, including her collection of tiny hermit crabs and various rocks and coral. She called me tia (aunt) and kissed me goodbye when they left.

I watched her father and grandfather swim out through the rocks and knew it was safe, so I followed.  Later they got into a small pool made from other rocks. The pool would rise and fall with the tide.  The girl asked me to join them then grabbed my hand when I was a bit reluctant.  I would have not done any of it, if I hadn’t seen them do it first. It looked a bit dangerous.

They offered me coffee and I offered the little girl the only thing I had to offer- a magazine. I told her she could practice her English with it, which she had been trying to use while talking to me. She smiled, kissed me again on the cheek and ran to show her mother.

A man on the beach had asked me a few times if I wanted to go on a tour to the caves. He waited around for me, brought me a coconut. I finally decided to go when he said it was $6 peso, very excited to finally be using my pesos instead of CUC. 

I had only flip flops and wished the whole time I had my Chacos or other better hiking shoes. We walked way up into some caves, saw a beautiful view of the sea and Baracoa and finally arrived in some lower caves where there was a natural pool. It was awesome, super dark and clear, cool water.  It wasn’t big but the water at points was up to my shoulders and it was just incredible to be swimming in a cave. I wasn’t expecting to find that.

I finally headed back. I’d spent about lovely 9 hours there and would have liked to stay longer, but there was no where to eat. I was starving and had drunk all my water as well.  I walked back along the now crowded beach, ate dinner at a restaurant in town and went back to the casa and wrote and read.

 

Traveling tip #9 Know How You’re Paying- I’d asked a barman in Santiago how I know the difference between the CUC and the peso when people say it.  They all seem to say peso and this is confusing. He’d said the CUC is generally the CUC or the dollar and the peso is the peso national.  When my guide to the caves told me pesos, I thought it was pesos national. Of course it wasn’t. Mostly I believe this is their fault for not being clear, but to be on the safe side be sure to confirm how you will be paying to avoid any confusion.

traveling Tip #10 Bring snacks. I bring snacks with me from home any time I travel, granola bars and lollies, crackers and the like. You can also get snacks wherever you are, just be sure to always have some with you. These are great for bus rides and any time you might be stuck on a very private, beautiful beach in a town that is so small there aren't any restaurants. I did have snacks on this beach, they just weren't substantial enough to edge my hunger.

Cuban BLog Day #7 Don't Order a Cuba Libre

This portion of the blog will be a day by day account of my travels in Cuba. It was written during my travels, but posted after I’d returned. This is because internet is incredibly slow and expensive in Cuba.  It is also because I didn’t want to spend my time in internet cafes,rather then experiencing Cuba in the moment.

The first part will be more journal-like, describing the highlights of each day. It may include a few tips about costs and places to see etc.

The bottom of the blog will include a tip or two of the day. These are mostly for travelers from the United States traveling to Cuba the old fashioned way, but could be used by any traveler heading to Cuba.

You can read this blog two ways. 1. Completely through (This is how I hope my mom and friends will read it, so they get a better idea of what I did during the three weeks I spent off the grid,) or 2. If you have dreams of traveling to Cuba, feel free to skip the journal-y part and go right to the tips each day. I assure you they are helpful. I wish I had known them before I left.

Please enjoy my blog and feel free to ask any questions you may have. Thanks, Kari

 

I woke early the next day and had breakfast on the terrace which included hot chocolate made by the chocolate bars that are famously made in Baracoa. So good! We walked to the tour place and met up with the gringos, Kevin and Heidi along with a few other travelers, all European- Austrian, Romanian and German.

We left in an air conditioned van and stopped for a tour outside. Our guide Benny spoke good English and showed us the cocoa fruit and various other plants. We then went to a woman’s house and were shown all the steps of the chocolate making process.

We drove along the coast and stopped at a bar to wait for our boat on the river to be ready.  We bought a bottle of rum and a big Tu cola, their version of Coca Cola which is sweetened with an artificial sweetener and tastes more like a diet Coke.  We made Cubalibres all around and ended up taking them on the boat ride too.  We learned from Benny that whenever you open a new bottle of rum in Cubayou must pour a little out para los santos, for the saints.

The rower of the boat had an easy job that day because three of the men on the tour wanted to row. The ride was very short, and we stopped at a kind of island where we had time to swim and play in the water and drink more Cuba Libres.

We headed back and stopped at another beach along the way for an hour or so.  We sat in the shade and drank more Cuba Libres while lamenting the fact we’d not yet smoked a cigar.  Kevin pulled one from his pack and shared it with us. Benny told us the way to tell if it is a good cigar is by how long the ash gets. The longer the ash the better the cigar. He also showed us how you must continually rotate the cigar so that it burns evenly.  After abou an hour on the beach, we rode back to Baracoa just as it started to rain. 

Back in town we all went to the Cafeteria and bought another bottle of rum and another of Tu cola. The night went on like this.  The Rasta brothers came around and showed us their new tattoos. They had each gotten the tattoo I had translated. I couldn’t believe it.

The brothers were great people to have met, and I enjoyed talking to them about their thoughts on Cubaand the government.  Most Cubans are very reluctant to talk about anything related to the government and Fidel, especially their opinions.  Even the brothers, when I asked to take a picture of their tattoos told me yes, but only if I would not include their faces.  It was clear they were worried about having their opinions known. I think this is why their tattoos are in English, in the hopes that most people in Cubawill not understand it. 

The day before on the beach I tried to get the brothers to open up a bit about Bobby’s tattoo which was a picture of Cubawith the English words ‘we need freedom.’   Clearly they believe this, as it was tattooed on their bodies, but it was very hard to get them to go further.  I wanted to know how they thought freedom might come about, or when they thought it would happen. Their response was that they wanted to go to Ecuador.  Ecuadorrecently opened up their doors to Cubans without a need for an invitation.  From there, they said, they hoped it would be easier to get to the US.  I’m not sure if this means they don’t really see freedom happening any time soon, but that’s what I took their desire to get out of Cuba to mean.

 

Traveling Tip #8 Don’t order a Cuba Libre-  Instead simply buy a $3 bottle of rum and a $1 big bottle of Tu cola.  Mind you, they don’t have the lime juice, but I am ok with this.  A single Cuba Libre in a bar will cost you $2-$3, nearly the cost of a whole bottle of rum.

Cuban BLog Day #7 Don't Order a Cuba Libre

This portion of the blog will be a day by day account of my travels in Cuba. It was written during my travels, but posted after I’d returned. This is because internet is incredibly slow and expensive in Cuba.  It is also because I didn’t want to spend my time in internet cafes,rather then experiencing Cuba in the moment.

The first part will be more journal-like, describing the highlights of each day. It may include a few tips about costs and places to see etc.

The bottom of the blog will include a tip or two of the day. These are mostly for travelers from the United States traveling to Cuba the old fashioned way, but could be used by any traveler heading to Cuba.

You can read this blog two ways. 1. Completely through (This is how I hope my mom and friends will read it, so they get a better idea of what I did during the three weeks I spent off the grid,) or 2. If you have dreams of traveling to Cuba, feel free to skip the journal-y part and go right to the tips each day. I assure you they are helpful. I wish I had known them before I left.

Please enjoy my blog and feel free to ask any questions you may have. Thanks, Kari

 

I woke early the next day and had breakfast on the terrace which included hot chocolate made by the chocolate bars that are famously made in Baracoa. So good! We walked to the tour place and met up with the gringos, Kevin and Heidi along with a few other travelers, all European- Austrian, Romanian and German.

We left in an air conditioned van and stopped for a tour outside. Our guide Benny spoke good English and showed us the cocoa fruit and various other plants. We then went to a woman’s house and were shown all the steps of the chocolate making process.

We drove along the coast and stopped at a bar to wait for our boat on the river to be ready.  We bought a bottle of rum and a big Tu cola, their version of Coca Cola which is sweetened with an artificial sweetener and tastes more like a diet Coke.  We made Cuba libres all around and ended up taking them on the boat ride too.  We learned from Benny that whenever you open a new bottle of rum in Cuba you must pour a little out para los santos, for the saints.

The rower of the boat had an easy job that day because three of the men on the tour wanted to row. The ride was very short, and we stopped at a kind of island where we had time to swim and play in the water and drink more Cuba Libres.

We headed back and stopped at another beach along the way for an hour or so.  We sat in the shade and drank more Cuba Libres while lamenting the fact we’d not yet smoked a cigar.  Kevin pulled one from his pack and shared it with us. Benny told us the way to tell if it is a good cigar is by how long the ash gets. The longer the ash the better the cigar. He also showed us how you must continually rotate the cigar so that it burns evenly.  After abou an hour on the beach, we rode back to Baracoa just as it started to rain. 

Back in town we all went to the Cafeteria and bought another bottle of rum and another of Tu cola. The night went on like this.  The Rasta brothers came around and showed us their new tattoos. They had each gotten the tattoo I had translated. I couldn’t believe it.

The brothers were great people to have met, and I enjoyed talking to them about their thoughts on Cuba and the government.  Most Cubans are very reluctant to talk about anything related to the government and Fidel, especially their opinions.  Even the brothers, when I asked to take a picture of their tattoos told me yes, but only if I would not include their faces.  It was clear they were worried about having their opinions known. I think this is why their tattoos are in English, in the hopes that most people in Cuba will not understand it. 

The day before on the beach I tried to get the brothers to open up a bit about Bobby’s tattoo which was a picture of Cuba with the English words ‘we need freedom.’   Clearly they believe this, as it was tattooed on their bodies, but it was very hard to get them to go further.  I wanted to know how they thought freedom might come about, or when they thought it would happen. Their response was that they wanted to go to Ecuador.  Ecuador recently opened up their doors to Cubans without a need for an invitation.  From there, they said, they hoped it would be easier to get to the US.  I’m not sure if this means they don’t really see freedom happening any time soon, but that’s what I took their desire to get out of Cuba to mean.

 

Traveling Tip #8 Don’t order a Cuba Libre-  Instead simply buy a $3 bottle of rum and a $1 big bottle of Tu cola.  Mind you, they don’t have the lime juice, but I am ok with this.  A single Cuba Libre in a bar will cost you $2-$3, nearly the cost of a whole bottle of rum.

Cuban Blog Dat #6 Water, Water Everywhere

 After breakfast, I went to the center to find out about the tour the gringos were taking. I secured it. I found out they have bus that leaves every day for Playa Managua at 10 am and returns at 4 pm. I’d missed it by 15 minutes. I was upset to have missed it, but I ended up taking a taxi for $15 CUC. The ride was about 40 minutes in the back of a jeep and the driver waited the whole time we were there to take us back.

I woke early and went up to the terrace to write.

Playa Managua was not what I was expecting. It wasn’t exactly the pristine beaches I’d seen pictures of in The Lonely Planet, but it was the first beach I’d been to and the water was reasonably clean and the beach itself wasn’t very crowded. The water was colder of than I expected, hoping for the bath water of the Caribbean, but we were on the Atlantic side. I immediately ran into the ocean as soon as I arrived.

I set up base and lay in the sun. I read. Very few vendors bothered me. A German came from the left with two giant conch shells which prompted me to go walking. I found a few myself, along with some very cool rocks to bring home.  The waiter from one of only two restaurants came to offer me drinks. I wanted a Cuba Libre and water, but he said, ‘only natural’ so I settled for a mojito and a pina colada. I’d thought water was quite natural, but not, I guess when it only comes in bottles.  I wished I’d taken the water from the stocked fridge in the casa.

The drinks were very strong. The waiter was awesome and at one point, while I was in the water, came to my spot on the beach, lifted my empty drink, and motioned toward it to ask if I wanted another. Excellent service.

I met two Rasta brothers that live in Baracoa, Robert and Bobby (I think they gave themselves English names and apparently didn’t know they were derivatives of each other.) They had tattoos which they proudly showed me. There was one of the island of Cuba with the words, ‘we need freedom’ written in English below it. Another said ‘don’t forget to smile.’

I talked with them for awhile. When they discovered I spoke Spanish, they asked me to translate a phrase for them into English because they were getting another tattoo that day. I translated the phrase, ‘do not let the struggles of this moment break the tenderness of your heart.’ I was thrilled to think that my words, in a small way, would be upon their bodies.

I left the beach around 4:30and had dinner at the casa. I stayed in for the night and read. I’m reading The Sun Also Rises, by Hemmingway and really enjoying it. Can’t wait to get to Havanaand explore all the places he once was.

 

 

Traveling tip #7  Water, water everywhere. Buy water wherever and whenever you find it.  It has been incredibly difficult to find anything other than beer and rum to drink. Normally I wouldn’t necessarily have a problem with this, but one does need water.  I was lucky that the fridge in Baracoawas stocked with big bottles of water without gas.  Bring your own Nalgene to fill and keep a steady supply. Every casa so far has had a fridge to keep it cold.

Cuban Blog Dat #6 Water, Water Everywhere

 After breakfast, I went to the center to find out about the tour the gringos were taking. I secured it. I found out they have bus that leaves every day for Playa Managua at 10 am and returns at 4 pm. I’d missed it by 15 minutes. I was upset to have missed it, but I ended up taking a taxi for $15 CUC. The ride was about 40 minutes in the back of a jeep and the driver waited the whole time we were there to take us back.

I woke early and went up to the terrace to write.

Playa Managua was not what I was expecting. It wasn’t exactly the pristine beaches I’d seen pictures of in The Lonely Planet, but it was the first beach I’d been to and the water was reasonably clean and the beach itself wasn’t very crowded. The water was colder of than I expected, hoping for the bath water of the Caribbean, but we were on the Atlantic side. I immediately ran into the ocean as soon as I arrived.

I set up base and lay in the sun. I read. Very few vendors bothered me. A German came from the left with two giant conch shells which prompted me to go walking. I found a few myself, along with some very cool rocks to bring home.  The waiter from one of only two restaurants came to offer me drinks. I wanted a Cuba Libre and water, but he said, ‘only natural’ so I settled for a mojito and a pina colada. I’d thought water was quite natural, but not, I guess when it only comes in bottles.  I wished I’d taken the water from the stocked fridge in the casa.

The drinks were very strong. The waiter was awesome and at one point, while I was in the water, came to my spot on the beach, lifted my empty drink, and motioned toward it to ask if I wanted another. Excellent service.

I met two Rasta brothers that live in Baracoa, Robert and Bobby (I think they gave themselves English names and apparently didn’t know they were derivatives of each other.) They had tattoos which they proudly showed me. There was one of the island of Cuba with the words, ‘we need freedom’ written in English below it. Another said ‘don’t forget to smile.’

I talked with them for awhile. When they discovered I spoke Spanish, they asked me to translate a phrase for them into English because they were getting another tattoo that day. I translated the phrase, ‘do not let the struggles of this moment break the tenderness of your heart.’ I was thrilled to think that my words, in a small way, would be upon their bodies.

I left the beach around 4:30 and had dinner at the casa. I stayed in for the night and read. I’m reading The Sun Also Rises, by Hemmingway and really enjoying it. Can’t wait to get to Havana and explore all the places he once was.

 

 

Traveling tip #7  Water, water everywhere. Buy water wherever and whenever you find it.  It has been incredibly difficult to find anything other than beer and rum to drink. Normally I wouldn’t necessarily have a problem with this, but one does need water.  I was lucky that the fridge in Baracoa was stocked with big bottles of water without gas.  Bring your own Nalgene to fill and keep a steady supply. Every casa so far has had a fridge to keep it cold.

Cuban Blog Day#5 F#$%ing Bull Sh#t, Happy Hour is Not Just an Hour and Women Are Friendlier, so Ask Them

The night before, when I arrived at the casa, Teresa told me another couple had arrived.  They were going to Baracoa the next day too. I’d hoped to share a taxi with them, but as every taxi has a drive and a shotgunner along for the ride, there would be no room for all 4 of us and our bags.

I had breakfast at the casa in the morning where I met the other gringos- Americans from California. My heart sank a bit as I’d grown fond of believing we were the only Americans crazy enough to get here illegally.  Of course, I knew this wasn’t the case, but I’d have liked to have held onto the idea a little bit longer.

We took a taxi to the bus terminal. I’d made reservations the day before, though you simply make the reservation and still have to pay the day of. I do not know if it is really necessary to make the reservation or not. I paid for the tickets and waited about an hour. Jimmie went to check our bags and for the first time was asked to pay for the bags to go below. A German ahead of him had apparently had enough of this and told Jimmie this was ‘F#@$ing bull sh#t’ (always fun to hear foreigners swear in English and this little phrase became our motto for the rest of the trip. Of course, said in a German English accent.)  Jimmie simply handed the attendant whatever coins he had instead of the $1CUC each he requested.

It was a five hour bus ride which I managed to sleep on most of the way. We passed by Guantánamo and then stopped at a roadside place where we were able to purchase chocolate, famous in Baracoaand cuchurcho- a mixture of dried coconut, sugar, honey and various fruits all wrapped nicely in a cone of palm frond. These were our first purchases in pesos nationals.

The way there is very windy with a series of switchbacks to make our way over the mountain to the isolated town of Baracoa. We arrived, surprisingly, only about a half hour later than what the guide had told us. There we had a casa owner waiting for us. Teresa had called ahead. He had our names on a sign. I felt very important. It was raining when we arrived, and at first we tried to wait out the rain.  Finally, the owner decided it was not worth waiting and our suitcases were secured onto a bicitaxi with a small flap to protect them from the rain. We then ran out to the bike and more flaps were secured around us. I felt so bad for the driver.

We soon arrived at a casa which was not the one we had thought. I was told his was full and we were therefore taken to this one. Nelsy was very friendly if not a bit pushy, or more on the side of aggressive about eating in her casa because no where else was better. We simply had a room this time, no apartment. It had a stocked fridge, which later we would come to be very grateful for. The terrace was incredible. Nelsy said it was the biggest in all of Baracoa. It was half covered which was great for me to write and even had sun loungers. The sea was everywhere.

We got situated and went walking towards the square where we had a small snack and a few beers. The gringos passed us and told us of a tour they’d be taking in two days.  We decided to join them.

 

We walked to the malecón (I do not know the word for this in English. I like this idea. Any word I ever learn for the first time, I only ever know it in the language I learn it in. This is true, for yuca, tamarindo and cenote. I think the closest word we have for malecón is boardwalk, though it is still not correct.) There we found a cute little happy hour place with Adirondackchairs on the lawn facing the ocean. The sign out front said ‘Happy Hour- 4-6’. It was just past 6. We asked if we could still get the half priced drinks. The man said no. The women upstairs said yes. We stayed. We sat in the chairs facing the sea and watched the sun set into the ocean.

We returned to the casa for dinner, upon Nelsy’s urging. I had my first lobster. The whole meal included soup, rice and salad which consists of the best tomatoes ever, including my mother’s homegrown in the summer (sorry mom). I’m quite addicted to them. There was also dessert.  I’ve yet to see cheviche which is a bit of a disappointment. 

After dinner, we walked to the center to try and find a party. We met a German who said he was getting rum and coke to bring to La Trova. He pointed where it was. It was quite happening with people from everywhere spilling out into the streets because there was no longer room inside where the live music was blasting.

 

 

Traveling Tip #6- They will ask you for money to put your bags below the bus. This is optional at best. You already paid your ticket. Do not do this. It didn’t make any difference as far as how our bags were treated and it is simply another way to take advantage of stupid gringos.

 

Traveling Tip #6 and #7 These two tips go hand in hand as far as how I discovered them.  Be sure to ask, you never know anything until you ask. I would have never stayed for happy hour had I not asked if it could perhaps be extended. Most of the time, especially, I imagine while traveling in low season, people just want your money and if that means giving you happy hour prices beyond happy hour times, they will do that to make you happy. I also found throughout my travels that asking a woman generally led to better results, so whenever you can ask a woman. If you ask a man and get an answer you don’t like, find a woman to ask. This may also be true in real life as well.

Cuban Blog Day#5 F#$%ing Bull Sh#t, Happy Hour is Not Just an Hour and Women Are Friendlier, so Ask Them

The night before, when I arrived at the casa, Teresa told me another couple had arrived.  They were going to Baracoa the next day too. I’d hoped to share a taxi with them, but as every taxi has a drive and a shotgunner along for the ride, there would be no room for all 4 of us and our bags.

I had breakfast at the casa in the morning where I met the other gringos- Americans from California. My heart sank a bit as I’d grown fond of believing we were the only Americans crazy enough to get here illegally.  Of course, I knew this wasn’t the case, but I’d have liked to have held onto the idea a little bit longer.

We took a taxi to the bus terminal. I’d made reservations the day before, though you simply make the reservation and still have to pay the day of. I do not know if it is really necessary to make the reservation or not. I paid for the tickets and waited about an hour. Jimmie went to check our bags and for the first time was asked to pay for the bags to go below. A German ahead of him had apparently had enough of this and told Jimmie this was ‘F#@$ing bull sh#t’ (always fun to hear foreigners swear in English and this little phrase became our motto for the rest of the trip. Of course, said in a German English accent.)  Jimmie simply handed the attendant whatever coins he had instead of the $1CUC each he requested.

It was a five hour bus ride which I managed to sleep on most of the way. We passed by Guantánamo and then stopped at a roadside place where we were able to purchase chocolate, famous in Baracoa and cuchurcho- a mixture of dried coconut, sugar, honey and various fruits all wrapped nicely in a cone of palm frond. These were our first purchases in pesos nationals.

The way there is very windy with a series of switchbacks to make our way over the mountain to the isolated town of Baracoa. We arrived, surprisingly, only about a half hour later than what the guide had told us. There we had a casa owner waiting for us. Teresa had called ahead. He had our names on a sign. I felt very important. It was raining when we arrived, and at first we tried to wait out the rain.  Finally, the owner decided it was not worth waiting and our suitcases were secured onto a bicitaxi with a small flap to protect them from the rain. We then ran out to the bike and more flaps were secured around us. I felt so bad for the driver.

We soon arrived at a casa which was not the one we had thought. I was told his was full and we were therefore taken to this one. Nelsy was very friendly if not a bit pushy, or more on the side of aggressive about eating in her casa because no where else was better. We simply had a room this time, no apartment. It had a stocked fridge, which later we would come to be very grateful for. The terrace was incredible. Nelsy said it was the biggest in all of Baracoa. It was half covered which was great for me to write and even had sun loungers. The sea was everywhere.

We got situated and went walking towards the square where we had a small snack and a few beers. The gringos passed us and told us of a tour they’d be taking in two days.  We decided to join them.

 

We walked to the malecón (I do not know the word for this in English. I like this idea. Any word I ever learn for the first time, I only ever know it in the language I learn it in. This is true, for yuca, tamarindo and cenote. I think the closest word we have for malecón is boardwalk, though it is still not correct.) There we found a cute little happy hour place with Adirondack chairs on the lawn facing the ocean. The sign out front said ‘Happy Hour- 4-6’. It was just past 6. We asked if we could still get the half priced drinks. The man said no. The women upstairs said yes. We stayed. We sat in the chairs facing the sea and watched the sun set into the ocean.

We returned to the casa for dinner, upon Nelsy’s urging. I had my first lobster. The whole meal included soup, rice and salad which consists of the best tomatoes ever, including my mother’s homegrown in the summer (sorry mom). I’m quite addicted to them. There was also dessert.  I’ve yet to see cheviche which is a bit of a disappointment. 

After dinner, we walked to the center to try and find a party. We met a German who said he was getting rum and coke to bring to La Trova. He pointed where it was. It was quite happening with people from everywhere spilling out into the streets because there was no longer room inside where the live music was blasting.

 

 

Traveling Tip #6- They will ask you for money to put your bags below the bus. This is optional at best. You already paid your ticket. Do not do this. It didn’t make any difference as far as how our bags were treated and it is simply another way to take advantage of stupid gringos.

 

Traveling Tip #6 and #7 These two tips go hand in hand as far as how I discovered them.  Be sure to ask, you never know anything until you ask. I would have never stayed for happy hour had I not asked if it could perhaps be extended. Most of the time, especially, I imagine while traveling in low season, people just want your money and if that means giving you happy hour prices beyond happy hour times, they will do that to make you happy. I also found throughout my travels that asking a woman generally led to better results, so whenever you can ask a woman. If you ask a man and get an answer you don’t like, find a woman to ask. This may also be true in real life as well.

Cuban Blog Day #4- Don't Speak the Language and Don't Judge a Book by its Cover

I decided I didn’t need more than one more day in the city as the guide had suggested. I was ready to get to the beach, but as I needed to reserve a bus for the journey on, I had one more day in Santiago. I woke early and ate my pizza from the dinner the night before and wrote in the morning.

I then went walking in the direction of the cemetery.  I found a bicitaxiwho took me the rest of the way, which was good because I was lost and it turned out to me much farther than I’d thought. It’d been threatening to rain all morning.  I walked around the cemetery, found the mausoleum for Bacardi- a great pyramid structure in the middle of the cemetery- Exactly how I would commemorate him.  I continued strolling around the beautiful cemetery wondering when it would rain. It never really did.

I took another bicitaxiback to the center of town and found a fast food sandwich.  I went across the street for a few mojitos where I met a giant Cuban boxer.  The boxer was cool for a while until he tried to sell me cigars and then asked me to buy him a drink. I shook him and then another Rasta looking guy came round to talk to me. Again, I thought he was cool until he asked me for CUCs in exchange for pesos to apparently buy balloons for his daughter’s birthday party that evening. This turned out to be a familiar hustle, balloons, go figure.

I found a taxi to take me to the fort, Castillo De San Pedro De La RocaDel Morro. The taxi was $15 CUC and would take me and wait for me to return.  It was $4 CUC to get in and another to take photos. The view of the sea and the bay was beautiful and I saw a family of iguanas, the father scaling the wall of the fort.

I saw the ceremony of the guards as they took the flag down for the evening and then watched as they loaded the cannon and heard and saw it fire off into the sea. I don’t think I’ve ever see a real cannon fire. It was incredibly loud.

 I returned to the city and ate at a restaurant the taxi shotgunner suggested. (For whatever reason, the taxi drivers work in pairs. I guess one to do the hustle and the other to drive. The hustler comes along for the ride and sits shotgun. This makes it rather inconvenient if you are trying to save money and fit two couples and their packs into a taxi.)

The place was another beautiful terrace restaurant I would have never realized was so nice until walking up three flights of stairs. I had a very nice dinner while listening to the Spanish version of The Eagles played live by a three piece band.

 

Traveling tips #4 and #5 Don’t speak the language- There is a theory that it is because I speak Spanish that people find the opportunity to speak to me and then ask something of me. I remember telling my dad after traveling in Colombia that I do not know if it is better now that I speak the language or not. He didn’t understand what I meant, and I tried to explain that instead of being oblivious to why we were waiting, or how much something cost, or what someone was begging for,  I now knew.  The same can be said here.  I love any opportunity I have to practice my Spanish and get to know the people, though it may be easier to simply pretend I have no idea that people are asking for something.

Take this advice as you will- I do think the opportunity to meet and get to know amazing people while traveling far out weighs the more infrequent disappointments of discovering sometimes they want something from me. Try as I might, I simply can’t keep my mouth shut now that I know what is being said. I must respond and generally I am happy I did.

 

#5- Don’t judge a book by its cover- I would have never gone into any of the places I ate in Santiago De Cubasimply from looking at it from the outside. They looked like nothing special, but as I said, Santiago is a city built upon itself and once you make your way up the three or four flights of stairs you find yourself on a beautiful rooftop terrace. Unlike most places I’ve traveled where the waiters are outside calling people in, Santiagodid not have this, though I wish they would. So be sure and see what’s above.

Cuban Blog Day #4- Don't Speak the Language and Don't Judge a Book by its Cover

I decided I didn’t need more than one more day in the city as the guide had suggested. I was ready to get to the beach, but as I needed to reserve a bus for the journey on, I had one more day in Santiago. I woke early and ate my pizza from the dinner the night before and wrote in the morning.

I then went walking in the direction of the cemetery.  I found a bicitaxi who took me the rest of the way, which was good because I was lost and it turned out to me much farther than I’d thought. It’d been threatening to rain all morning.  I walked around the cemetery, found the mausoleum for Bacardi- a great pyramid structure in the middle of the cemetery- Exactly how I would commemorate him.  I continued strolling around the beautiful cemetery wondering when it would rain. It never really did.

I took another bicitaxi back to the center of town and found a fast food sandwich.  I went across the street for a few mojitos where I met a giant Cuban boxer.  The boxer was cool for a while until he tried to sell me cigars and then asked me to buy him a drink. I shook him and then another Rasta looking guy came round to talk to me. Again, I thought he was cool until he asked me for CUCs in exchange for pesos to apparently buy balloons for his daughter’s birthday party that evening. This turned out to be a familiar hustle, balloons, go figure.

I found a taxi to take me to the fort, Castillo De San Pedro De La RocaDel Morro. The taxi was $15 CUC and would take me and wait for me to return.  It was $4 CUC to get in and another to take photos. The view of the sea and the bay was beautiful and I saw a family of iguanas, the father scaling the wall of the fort.

I saw the ceremony of the guards as they took the flag down for the evening and then watched as they loaded the cannon and heard and saw it fire off into the sea. I don’t think I’ve ever see a real cannon fire. It was incredibly loud.

 I returned to the city and ate at a restaurant the taxi shotgunner suggested. (For whatever reason, the taxi drivers work in pairs. I guess one to do the hustle and the other to drive. The hustler comes along for the ride and sits shotgun. This makes it rather inconvenient if you are trying to save money and fit two couples and their packs into a taxi.)

The place was another beautiful terrace restaurant I would have never realized was so nice until walking up three flights of stairs. I had a very nice dinner while listening to the Spanish version of The Eagles played live by a three piece band.

 

Traveling tips #4 and #5 Don’t speak the language- There is a theory that it is because I speak Spanish that people find the opportunity to speak to me and then ask something of me. I remember telling my dad after traveling in Colombia that I do not know if it is better now that I speak the language or not. He didn’t understand what I meant, and I tried to explain that instead of being oblivious to why we were waiting, or how much something cost, or what someone was begging for,  I now knew.  The same can be said here.  I love any opportunity I have to practice my Spanish and get to know the people, though it may be easier to simply pretend I have no idea that people are asking for something.

Take this advice as you will- I do think the opportunity to meet and get to know amazing people while traveling far out weighs the more infrequent disappointments of discovering sometimes they want something from me. Try as I might, I simply can’t keep my mouth shut now that I know what is being said. I must respond and generally I am happy I did.

 

#5- Don’t judge a book by its cover- I would have never gone into any of the places I ate in Santiago De Cuba simply from looking at it from the outside. They looked like nothing special, but as I said, Santiago is a city built upon itself and once you make your way up the three or four flights of stairs you find yourself on a beautiful rooftop terrace. Unlike most places I’ve traveled where the waiters are outside calling people in, Santiago did not have this, though I wish they would. So be sure and see what’s above.

Cuban Blog Day #3- Find Pesos

I arrived about 8 amat the Santiago de Cuba bus terminal. I was immediately accosted by touts trying to get me to go to their casa. One succeeded as I had no idea which way to go to get to any of the casas in the Lonely Planet.

I met Teresa, la dueñaand was shown to a room. I was quite pleased with it as it was a whole apartment with a sitting room, kitchen, bathroom and separate bedroom. I was not expecting this, nor would I get it at any casa after.

I ate breakfast at the casa after checking out the view from the ‘terrace’, which was simply a roof with various pipes and wood with which to hurt oneself.  The view showed an incredibly packed city with buildings on top of one another. I could not see the sea.

I set off walking with the Museo de Ron as my ultimate destination. I found the Museo de Baccardi which was closed for renovation, near it was the Museo de Ron. I paid the $1 CUC entrance, and I splurged the extra $1 CUC for the English speaking guide.  The tour was perhaps 10 minutes and detailed the process of making rum from sugar cane and aguardientes.  It had several old barrels and other antiquated equipment. It also had old labels through the years of Havana Club and Ron de Santiago De Cuba.

The tour ended in the speakeasy -esqu bar below the museum where I had my first Cuba Libre in Cuba!!! It was 10 am. I paid $5 CUC for the Cuba Libres and the rest of the liter bottle of Havana Club, which I then carried with me the rest of the day.

The rum was quite smooth and the drinks were made with pure lime juice that came out of a plastic water bottle with a straw through the lid. I usually do not like lime in my drink, but these were good. I decided from now on I too would keep such a bottle of lime juice for my drinks at home.  I tried the rum solo, but as I do not normally drink it this way I’ve no way to tell if it is better than other rums. There was also no way to tell if simply being in the land of rum made it taste all that much better.

I went walking again. This time with little destination, simply hoping to pass a few key spots listed in the guide. I found a scenic overview where I was able to see the sea. I passed a few of the plazas in the guide. These are always disappointing to me after the description in the guide. I often wonder why they are touted as worthy of visiting when they are simply parks with benches. None of these even had men playing dominos or chess, nor any vendors of food.

I found a great little restaurant with a beautiful rooftop terrace. They had two menus- one in pesos national and one in CUC (convertible peso.) There was a huge mark up for the CUC. I went to leave to find a cheaper place. The waiter stopped me and told me he would give me the correct exchange, so I stayed. I had the fish. At the end I paid with CUC with the hope of getting pesos for change. I did and now I had about $20 US in pesos national.

I left and stumbled more or less on the path in the guide and was headed to the Museo de Carnaval but was told by a young guy in the street that it was closed until four. He suggested and then joined me at a bar across from it where we drank mojitosand watched a few people dancing salsa.  He was quite nice, and though the whole time I thought he would eventually ask something of me, he never did.

He took me across to the museo once it opened, and I supposed this is what he’d been waiting for, his commission for ‘taking’ me to it. There we watched traditional dancing which included dances for all the saints, including a jester of sorts. The music was live and at the end we had a chance to join them dancing.

I walked around a bit more and made my way back to the casa and showered and found a place for dinner on the plaza I now realized was quite close. I went back to the casa and made Cuba Libres with the rum I’d been carrying on my smaller more accommodating terrace just outside the room in the evening.

 

Traveling in Cubatip #3 Find a place like the restaurant where you can pay in CUC and get pesos back. I am not sure how easy this is to do, and believe I was quite lucky. You cannot simply exchange CUC for pesos in the money exchanges or, cadecas and therefore this is about the only way you can get pesos. You can then use pesos for the street food and various bicitaxis etc. Do this early in your trip because it will save you a lot of money whenever you can use pesos versus CUC.

It took me quite a while to figure out why there was always a line outside the cadecas and why it always seemed to be full of Cubans. What I learned through talking with people throughout the trip was that along with the meager rations Cubans receive, the average Cuban makes the equivalent of about $30 CUC per month in pesos national. Mind you, the CUC is a 1 to 1 exchange with the US dollar.  Cubans then exchange their pesos for CUC in the cadecafor whatever other necessities they need. It does not work the other way around. Cubans then take their CUCs to the various shops that sell shampoo and toothpaste and the like.

Cuban Blog Day #3- Find Pesos

I arrived about 8 am at the Santiago de Cuba bus terminal. I was immediately accosted by touts trying to get me to go to their casa. One succeeded as I had no idea which way to go to get to any of the casas in the Lonely Planet.

I met Teresa, la dueña and was shown to a room. I was quite pleased with it as it was a whole apartment with a sitting room, kitchen, bathroom and separate bedroom. I was not expecting this, nor would I get it at any casa after.

I ate breakfast at the casa after checking out the view from the ‘terrace’, which was simply a roof with various pipes and wood with which to hurt oneself.  The view showed an incredibly packed city with buildings on top of one another. I could not see the sea.

I set off walking with the Museo de Ron as my ultimate destination. I found the Museo de Baccardi which was closed for renovation, near it was the Museo de Ron. I paid the $1 CUC entrance, and I splurged the extra $1 CUC for the English speaking guide.  The tour was perhaps 10 minutes and detailed the process of making rum from sugar cane and aguardientes.  It had several old barrels and other antiquated equipment. It also had old labels through the years of Havana Club and Ron de Santiago De Cuba.

The tour ended in the speakeasy -esqu bar below the museum where I had my first Cuba Libre in Cuba!!! It was 10 am. I paid $5 CUC for the Cuba Libres and the rest of the liter bottle of Havana Club, which I then carried with me the rest of the day.

The rum was quite smooth and the drinks were made with pure lime juice that came out of a plastic water bottle with a straw through the lid. I usually do not like lime in my drink, but these were good. I decided from now on I too would keep such a bottle of lime juice for my drinks at home.  I tried the rum solo, but as I do not normally drink it this way I’ve no way to tell if it is better than other rums. There was also no way to tell if simply being in the land of rum made it taste all that much better.

I went walking again. This time with little destination, simply hoping to pass a few key spots listed in the guide. I found a scenic overview where I was able to see the sea. I passed a few of the plazas in the guide. These are always disappointing to me after the description in the guide. I often wonder why they are touted as worthy of visiting when they are simply parks with benches. None of these even had men playing dominos or chess, nor any vendors of food.

I found a great little restaurant with a beautiful rooftop terrace. They had two menus- one in pesos national and one in CUC (convertible peso.) There was a huge mark up for the CUC. I went to leave to find a cheaper place. The waiter stopped me and told me he would give me the correct exchange, so I stayed. I had the fish. At the end I paid with CUC with the hope of getting pesos for change. I did and now I had about $20 US in pesos national.

I left and stumbled more or less on the path in the guide and was headed to the Museo de Carnaval but was told by a young guy in the street that it was closed until four. He suggested and then joined me at a bar across from it where we drank mojitos and watched a few people dancing salsa.  He was quite nice, and though the whole time I thought he would eventually ask something of me, he never did.

He took me across to the museo once it opened, and I supposed this is what he’d been waiting for, his commission for ‘taking’ me to it. There we watched traditional dancing which included dances for all the saints, including a jester of sorts. The music was live and at the end we had a chance to join them dancing.

I walked around a bit more and made my way back to the casa and showered and found a place for dinner on the plaza I now realized was quite close. I went back to the casa and made Cuba Libres with the rum I’d been carrying on my smaller more accommodating terrace just outside the room in the evening.

 

Traveling in Cuba tip #3 Find a place like the restaurant where you can pay in CUC and get pesos back. I am not sure how easy this is to do, and believe I was quite lucky. You cannot simply exchange CUC for pesos in the money exchanges or, cadecas and therefore this is about the only way you can get pesos. You can then use pesos for the street food and various bicitaxis etc. Do this early in your trip because it will save you a lot of money whenever you can use pesos versus CUC.

It took me quite a while to figure out why there was always a line outside the cadecas and why it always seemed to be full of Cubans. What I learned through talking with people throughout the trip was that along with the meager rations Cubans receive, the average Cuban makes the equivalent of about $30 CUC per month in pesos national. Mind you, the CUC is a 1 to 1 exchange with the US dollar.  Cubans then exchange their pesos for CUC in the cadeca for whatever other necessities they need. It does not work the other way around. Cubans then take their CUCs to the various shops that sell shampoo and toothpaste and the like.

Day two- I Know it's Hot, but.... Take Warm Clothing

After a night spent in Cancun, Mexico (the mandatory ‘stopover’ on the way to Cuba), I took a $6 bus ride back to the airport to fly to Havana, Cuba. In line to check in, I was approached by a worker asking if I had our visa.  My heart sank a bit, thinking I had messed up somehow and not gotten a visa when I should have.  Was my plan ruined because of this oversight?  No, turns out you just have to spend $25 on a visa right there.  This would be what the custom officials in Cubawould stamp instead of our passports.  It would remain loose in my passport and would be something I needed to hold onto throughout my travels.  I was hoping it would be my keepsake from the trip, the only tangible, official proof that I made it, but it was taken from me when I left Cubathree weeks later

I got a little emotional at the check in counter when I realized the tickets were for real and we would soon be flying to Cuba. Everything was happening and my dream of getting to the most forbidden country in the world for United Statescitizens was coming true.

I had been told to get to the airport 3 hours ahead of my departure. Several people had  told me this, and so I was 2.5 hours early which was completely unnecessary. I spent two hours waiting around for my flight to board. I checked out the duty free shops, and I got my first view of Havana Club. I asked three different workers about bringing Mexican bought Havana Club into the US, with very mixed responses. Some said no, absolutely not, others said, sure no problem. Ugh! I also found up to 15 year Flor De Cana rum. Always a back up plan.

The ride over to Cubawas short and filled with free rum. (Oh the joys and perks of other countries.) I sat by the window and watched the island appear as we flew. Again, I let a few tears go as I realized how close I was to the country I had coveted for so long.

Once off the airplane and on land, I made my way to customs. I was immediately singled out and asked questions about what I was doing there, what my intentions were and what my job was. Again, my heart sank. Had I really made it this far only to be turned away once setting foot in the country?

They took me aside, out of the line, to ask more questions.  They asked me where I was going, what I would do there, if I had any electronics, how much money I had with me, what my job was (again.) I asked if there was a problem. He wrote it all down, very unofficial like, on a piece of notebook paper. Would that be filed somewhere, I wondered or simply thrown away at days end?  Finally, he said I could go.

When it was my turn to speak to the customs agent, I made sure to tell him not to stamp my passport, though I don’t think it was necessary.  I admired my visa with its brand new Cuban stamp while I waited for my bags. It was gorgeous.

Upon exiting the airport, I was again stopped.  I wondered if it was simply because I was the one gringa who actually spoke English. They gave me no explanation, simply told me to wait. They took my passport. I did my best to keep it in sight. They told me to wait here, and then there, never telling me why and what any of this was about. When finally someone came, she asked the exact same questions the man had earlier, and wrote my answers down on an even less official looking paper than before.   I told her this, very frustrated at this point. She gave me no response.  I had thought they’d search my bag as I watched several other bags being searched while I waited. But luckily, I avoided this and my bags simply went through another x-ray machine and I was off.

Finally, I made our way to the bus terminal to take a 12 hour over night bus to Santiago De Cuba.  As I handed off my luggage to be stored under the bus the worked told me it would be very cold on the bus. I thanked him for the info and assured him that I had a sweatshirt in my backpack.  I knew this about busses abroad. I’d heard it before I left for Colombiaand was so grateful for the information once I rode on the first overly air conditioned bus there.

Not even an hour into the ride, I put my long sleeve shirt and hoodie on. I rolled my jeans all the way down. I ached for socks. I contemplated getting my towel out of my bag when next we stopped.  Soon the hood of my sweatshirt was on and scrunched around my face.   It was going to be a long, cold ride.

 

 Traveling tip #2- Take one change of very warm clothes. These are usually the clothes I wear on the plane because I get quite cold on them too, and then you don’t have to pack those clothes taking up space.  A pair of long pants that can be rolled up to the knees for once you arrive in your warm destination. A tank top under a long sleeve, under a hoodie. Socks.   A towel. Or, better yet, steal a blanket from the plane. This will not generally happen on a US flight, as they are way too stingy to willy nilly give out blankets anymore. But on the flight from Cancun to Cubathere were several blankets sitting in the first class section. I meant to grab one. Airplane blankets are the best because they are thin and fold up tiny and are easy to fit into your carry on back pack.  You can then use the blanket for the rest of your travels, for the freezing cold busses, for the beach, for picnics.

Day two- I Know it's Hot, but.... Take Warm Clothing

After a night spent in Cancun, Mexico (the mandatory ‘stopover’ on the way to Cuba), I took a $6 bus ride back to the airport to fly to Havana, Cuba. In line to check in, I was approached by a worker asking if I had our visa.  My heart sank a bit, thinking I had messed up somehow and not gotten a visa when I should have.  Was my plan ruined because of this oversight?  No, turns out you just have to spend $25 on a visa right there.  This would be what the custom officials in Cuba would stamp instead of our passports.  It would remain loose in my passport and would be something I needed to hold onto throughout my travels.  I was hoping it would be my keepsake from the trip, the only tangible, official proof that I made it, but it was taken from me when I left Cuba three weeks later

I got a little emotional at the check in counter when I realized the tickets were for real and we would soon be flying to Cuba. Everything was happening and my dream of getting to the most forbidden country in the world for United States citizens was coming true.

I had been told to get to the airport 3 hours ahead of my departure. Several people had  told me this, and so I was 2.5 hours early which was completely unnecessary. I spent two hours waiting around for my flight to board. I checked out the duty free shops, and I got my first view of Havana Club. I asked three different workers about bringing Mexican bought Havana Club into the US, with very mixed responses. Some said no, absolutely not, others said, sure no problem. Ugh! I also found up to 15 year Flor De Cana rum. Always a back up plan.

The ride over to Cuba was short and filled with free rum. (Oh the joys and perks of other countries.) I sat by the window and watched the island appear as we flew. Again, I let a few tears go as I realized how close I was to the country I had coveted for so long.

Once off the airplane and on land, I made my way to customs. I was immediately singled out and asked questions about what I was doing there, what my intentions were and what my job was. Again, my heart sank. Had I really made it this far only to be turned away once setting foot in the country?

They took me aside, out of the line, to ask more questions.  They asked me where I was going, what I would do there, if I had any electronics, how much money I had with me, what my job was (again.) I asked if there was a problem. He wrote it all down, very unofficial like, on a piece of notebook paper. Would that be filed somewhere, I wondered or simply thrown away at days end?  Finally, he said I could go.

When it was my turn to speak to the customs agent, I made sure to tell him not to stamp my passport, though I don’t think it was necessary.  I admired my visa with its brand new Cuban stamp while I waited for my bags. It was gorgeous.

Upon exiting the airport, I was again stopped.  I wondered if it was simply because I was the one gringa who actually spoke English. They gave me no explanation, simply told me to wait. They took my passport. I did my best to keep it in sight. They told me to wait here, and then there, never telling me why and what any of this was about. When finally someone came, she asked the exact same questions the man had earlier, and wrote my answers down on an even less official looking paper than before.   I told her this, very frustrated at this point. She gave me no response.  I had thought they’d search my bag as I watched several other bags being searched while I waited. But luckily, I avoided this and my bags simply went through another x-ray machine and I was off.

Finally, I made our way to the bus terminal to take a 12 hour over night bus to Santiago De Cuba.  As I handed off my luggage to be stored under the bus the worked told me it would be very cold on the bus. I thanked him for the info and assured him that I had a sweatshirt in my backpack.  I knew this about busses abroad. I’d heard it before I left for Colombia and was so grateful for the information once I rode on the first overly air conditioned bus there.

Not even an hour into the ride, I put my long sleeve shirt and hoodie on. I rolled my jeans all the way down. I ached for socks. I contemplated getting my towel out of my bag when next we stopped.  Soon the hood of my sweatshirt was on and scrunched around my face.   It was going to be a long, cold ride.

 

 Traveling tip #2- Take one change of very warm clothes. These are usually the clothes I wear on the plane because I get quite cold on them too, and then you don’t have to pack those clothes taking up space.  A pair of long pants that can be rolled up to the knees for once you arrive in your warm destination. A tank top under a long sleeve, under a hoodie. Socks.   A towel. Or, better yet, steal a blanket from the plane. This will not generally happen on a US flight, as they are way too stingy to willy nilly give out blankets anymore. But on the flight from Cancun to Cuba there were several blankets sitting in the first class section. I meant to grab one. Airplane blankets are the best because they are thin and fold up tiny and are easy to fit into your carry on back pack.  You can then use the blanket for the rest of your travels, for the freezing cold busses, for the beach, for picnics.

Day One- Revolutionizing Air Travel

Cuban Blog

 For the next three weeks or so I will be posting a day by day account of my travels in Cuba. The first part will be more journal-like, describing the highlights of each day. It may include a few tips about costs and places to see etc.

The bottom of the blog will include a tip of the day. These are mostly for travelers from the United Statestraveling to Cubathe old fashioned way, but could be used by any traveler heading to Cuba.

You can read this blog two ways. 1. Completely through (This is how I hope my mom and friends will read it, so they get a better idea of what I did during the three weeks I spent off the grid,) or 2. If you are have dreams of traveling to Cuba, feel free to skip the journal-y part and go right to the tips each day. I assure you they are helpful. I wish I had known them before I left.

Please enjoy my blog and feelfree to ask any questions you may have. Thanks, Kari

Day one- Revolutionizing air travel

 

I woke bright and early to wait for Jimmie to arrive at my folk’s house. My mom made us turkey sandwiches with cheese and pickles for the plane ride we thought would take 5 hours. I drove through rain and sleet to our friend’s house in Denver where I would leave my car for the next month. It is always nice to leave Coloradowhen it is nasty out to go somewhere hot and gorgeous.

At the airport we drank early morning bloody Mary’s and toasted to our trip. We contemplated buying a coke from a McDonald’s for the plane ride and our little bottles, but decided on an international flight, the cokes must be free.

They were. I decided we needed to tell the lady in the seat next to me about our plan. Liz was an ex- Californian living in Vail with her South African husband and three year old boy. Her husband had given her an extra mother’s day present by letting her sit alone on the plane, he, taking all the responsibility of their young child for the flight. She was thrilled.

I would have never known any of this if it weren’t for the fact I was not flying solo. My MO when flying is to close my eyes as soon as I am buckled in and avoid any unnecessary chit chat with whomever is unfortunate enough to sit down next to me. I’m not exactly a fan of small talk, though it took this trip to realize what I may be missing out on.

When the drink cart began its decent down our aisle, I told her our plan. She sat in disbelief asking me the details of how, while asking herself how she’d made it this far without ever knowing it.  She considered herself a well traveled person, as did I, and both of us had the same reaction when we found out what we were about to do was possible.  A little bit of regret for all the flights we could have done this on, and a little bit of excitement for all the flights we would surly be doing it on from now on.

When the drink cart approached us, Jimmie and I ordered two whole cans of coke and the ice in the cup along with it.  As the cart rolled away we each took a tiny bottle from a plastic bag. I poured half the rum into my coke, Jimmie, his whole Jack. We toasted our good fortune.

I talked to Liz the whole plane ride.  She asked how long we would be in Cancunand what we would be doing. I didn’t want to lie to her, but was still a little nervous about telling anyone our true plans, especially on the plane. I had visions of getting sent back as soon as we landed, having been overheard by a flight attendant who then alerted the authorities. My imagination was working overtime due to the anxiety associated with where we were headed.

I told her anyway.  She was surprised, impressed, perhaps even a bit jealous.  She asked about how we planned everything leading up to our departure the next day to Havana, Cuba.  She wished us luck and a safe return.  The flight was pleasant and enjoyable and left me wondering what I might have missed out on with all the flights I’d simply slept through.

 

Traveling tip #1- It is true, though I am sure you will not believe me. I did not believe Jimmie when first he told me. It took traveling to Palm Springs and asking a security person there if it could in fact be true. It is, trust me!  You can take however many little bottles of liquor as can fit into the Ziplock bag as long as they are sealed. We took three each which made for perfect in flight entertainment. Now, apparently you’re still not supposed to drink these little bottles on the plane. I guess a plane, once in the air, is treated just like a bar. They must serve you. So you must be sneaky, which is easy enough when you let the person next to in on it, and she turns out to be cool.