Cuban Blog Day #14 Be Specific, or Don't. It Doesn't Matter

The car I’d arranged for the next day to take me to Santa Clara, was, you guessed it, late. Nearly two hours, which pretty much negated the whole reason I was taking a car and not the bus. On top of being late to pick me up, I also enjoyed a very un-scenic drive around the town of Camaguey for about an hour or so before, you guessed it, picking up two other passengers.  And, you guessed it, the price didn’t change.

When I finally arrived in Santa Clara, I went walking to find the famous Che memorial.  It was a very hot day and a lot longer of a walk than I was anticipating.  Once at the memorial I walked around and read all of the statues. Then, I went inside to the museum and the mausoleum where Che and 29 other soldiers were brought after finding their bodies in Boliviain 1997.

Aside from being the site of the famous Battle of Santa Clara, which brought Che to Fidel’s attention and was a huge victory for the rebels fighting against the regime of General Fulgencio Batista, there is not much reason to visit Santa Clara.  Most people simply go to visit the memorials and pay their respects. The Battle of Santa Clara is also what is proudly commemorated on the three dollar peso national bill. 

There is also a tobacco factory, but it was closed on the Sunday I was there. That of course, did not stop la dueña or the bicitaxi driver from telling me that it was surely open.  I suppose I should not have been surprised to find the doors locked upon my arrival.  The guide does tout the tobacco factory in Santa Clara as being better, cheaper and more thorough than the one in Havana, and I was sad to miss it.

Back at the casa, I intended to sleep off my hangover and catch up on my writing and reading.  But that did not happen. La dueña had told me earlier that day that they would be celebrating her son in law’s birthday later than evening on the rooftop terrace.  She invited me to come and celebrate. 

Soon after entering my room, there was a knock at my door. They invited me up, but first they needed to use my fridge to keep all of the beer they had.  I politely declined twice, not wanting to drink again and not thinking myself very good company. Upon the third request I acquiesced and joined the 15 people gathered on the terrace. 

I was given a shot of rum which I sneakily poured into the lemon TuKola I was drinking.  I didn’t stay long, but was able to wish the birthday boy a happy birthday and see what a birthday party looks like in Cuba, not unlike parties I see here. Good to know some things are always the same.

 

Traveling Tip # 17

At this point I guess I would suggest taking the busses. Perhaps you’ll have better luck than me, but I was getting very tired of getting the run around from all these car drivers, thinking I was getting a great deal and saving so much time, all to be lied to and lied to over and over. My Spanish is decent enough; it was not a problem with communication. It was simply them wanting to make a dollar no matter what and telling me what I want to hear. But you’re a traveler, you know these things happen. 

Cuban Blog Day #14 Be Specific, or Don't. It Doesn't Matter

The car I’d arranged for the next day to take me to Santa Clara, was, you guessed it, late. Nearly two hours, which pretty much negated the whole reason I was taking a car and not the bus. On top of being late to pick me up, I also enjoyed a very un-scenic drive around the town of Camaguey for about an hour or so before, you guessed it, picking up two other passengers.  And, you guessed it, the price didn’t change.

When I finally arrived in Santa Clara, I went walking to find the famous Che memorial.  It was a very hot day and a lot longer of a walk than I was anticipating.  Once at the memorial I walked around and read all of the statues. Then, I went inside to the museum and the mausoleum where Che and 29 other soldiers were brought after finding their bodies in Bolivia in 1997.

Aside from being the site of the famous Battle of Santa Clara, which brought Che to Fidel’s attention and was a huge victory for the rebels fighting against the regime of General Fulgencio Batista, there is not much reason to visit Santa Clara.  Most people simply go to visit the memorials and pay their respects. The Battle of Santa Clara is also what is proudly commemorated on the three dollar peso national bill. 

There is also a tobacco factory, but it was closed on the Sunday I was there. That of course, did not stop la dueña or the bicitaxi driver from telling me that it was surely open.  I suppose I should not have been surprised to find the doors locked upon my arrival.  The guide does tout the tobacco factory in Santa Clara as being better, cheaper and more thorough than the one in Havana, and I was sad to miss it.

Back at the casa, I intended to sleep off my hangover and catch up on my writing and reading.  But that did not happen. La dueña had told me earlier that day that they would be celebrating her son in law’s birthday later than evening on the rooftop terrace.  She invited me to come and celebrate. 

Soon after entering my room, there was a knock at my door. They invited me up, but first they needed to use my fridge to keep all of the beer they had.  I politely declined twice, not wanting to drink again and not thinking myself very good company. Upon the third request I acquiesced and joined the 15 people gathered on the terrace. 

I was given a shot of rum which I sneakily poured into the lemon TuKola I was drinking.  I didn’t stay long, but was able to wish the birthday boy a happy birthday and see what a birthday party looks like in Cuba, not unlike parties I see here. Good to know some things are always the same.

 

Traveling Tip # 17

At this point I guess I would suggest taking the busses. Perhaps you’ll have better luck than me, but I was getting very tired of getting the run around from all these car drivers, thinking I was getting a great deal and saving so much time, all to be lied to and lied to over and over. My Spanish is decent enough; it was not a problem with communication. It was simply them wanting to make a dollar no matter what and telling me what I want to hear. But you’re a traveler, you know these things happen. 

Cuban Blog Day #13 Ask the Right Questions

I took a $15 CUC taxi back to Holguinfrom Gibara. I had just missed the bus to take me to Camaguey. It was very disappointing as it meant I had to choose between waiting for three hours or taking another taxi and spending more money.  I’d asked la dueña and some other folks around Gibara what the schedule was, but nobody knew it.  Viazul is a bus mostly for tourists. It is much more expensive and nicer than the busses for locals. Because of this, most locals do not know the schedule.

I decided to take another taxi the three hours north to Camaquey.  I didn’t want to waste any more of my precious little time left in Cuba.  I was already freaking out about getting to any place where I could dive, and already felt a sense of time running out.  I still had ten more days.

I drove in a taxi from the bus terminal to a baseball stadium where there was a van waiting to take me to Camaguey. This was odd, but, what are you going to do? Inside already was a very friendly deaf couple and air conditioning.  I expected a pleasant ride.

It was pleasant for the first hour and a half or so. Then the driver began stopping and picking up pretty women from the side of the road. He would drop them off 10 or 30 minutes later, sometimes going out of our way.  At one point, the entire van, which previously only had four passengers, was pack to the brim with some sitting on the floor.

I was not happy, but there was nothing to do. What was supposed to be a 3 hour trip turned into nearly five rather uncomfortable hours, and I began to wonder if I’d have been better off waiting and taking the bus.

Once I arrived at the bus terminal, I gave the man less money than he’d asked for and explained to him that I was very misled. He put up no fight about the decrease in his pay.  I was immediately hounded by touts coming from all directions.  Funny, because when we pulled in, I could see none.  I managed to keep my wits about me this time and checked the schedule for the next bus I would need.

It was later than I really wanted to leave the next morning, and I let a tout convince me to take another taxi. He promised he would be at the casa at 8 am and he promised he would go direct and he promised there would be no other passengers and he did it all with a straight face.

This same tout took me to a casa which happened to be in the guide, the first one.  It was in a good part of the city and I was happy just to be somewhere. It was raining and I’d already lost two hours of my one day in Camaguey, so I immediately took a bicitaxi to the market I’d read about in the guide.

When I arrived, it was pretty much closed, all the vendors had gone.  I do not know why, neither la dueña nor the taxi driver didn’t bother to tell me this key bit of information when I was asking them how to get there.

The taxi driver had agreed to wait for me (I wonder why?) and I had him take me to a restaurant. Of course it was probably the most expensive restaurant in the town. I sat down at a table, took a look at the menu and promptly left.

I wondered around, coming upon a very cool little area with lots of movie theaters (apparently Camagueyis quite famous for these…) and sidewalk bars.  I kept wandering and happily discovered I was very close to my casa. I was tired and wasn’t all too keen on walking around a city which is famous for the maze of streets they built to keep invaders out.  How was a simply tourist going to find her way around?  Remember, no iphones with GSP for Americans in Cuba.

So, after visiting the Casa de Chocolate and indulging in two lovely scoops of chocolate ice cream, I decided to get a bottle of rum.  I sat at sideway café on a plaza and drank rum and cokes in a tiny plastic cup and people watched the rest of the evening.

 

 

Traveling Tip #15 and #16

 

#15 It is difficult when being accosted by touts from all directions upon arriving in a new town to remember all it is you should do before leaving the station.  Checking the schedule for your next departure should be top on your list. I had forgotten all the other times and was so glad I finally remembered to in Comaguey.  If possible also buy, or at least reserve your tickets if you know when it is you are leaving.  I suppose this is usually easier in other places that have fast and easily accessed internet, but in Cubayou should check before you leave.

 

#16 Apparently, along with asking where something is, or how to get there, you should also ask if it is indeed open or functioning.  This happened with the ferry in Gibara, which had been closed for nearly two weeks, yet neither the nice man in the hotel, nor la dueña seemed to know or bother to tell me, and with the market in Camaguey.

Cuban Blog Day #13 Ask the Right Questions

I took a $15 CUC taxi back to Holguin from Gibara. I had just missed the bus to take me to Camaguey. It was very disappointing as it meant I had to choose between waiting for three hours or taking another taxi and spending more money.  I’d asked la dueña and some other folks around Gibara what the schedule was, but nobody knew it.  Viazul is a bus mostly for tourists. It is much more expensive and nicer than the busses for locals. Because of this, most locals do not know the schedule.

I decided to take another taxi the three hours north to Camaquey.  I didn’t want to waste any more of my precious little time left in Cuba.  I was already freaking out about getting to any place where I could dive, and already felt a sense of time running out.  I still had ten more days.

I drove in a taxi from the bus terminal to a baseball stadium where there was a van waiting to take me to Camaguey. This was odd, but, what are you going to do? Inside already was a very friendly deaf couple and air conditioning.  I expected a pleasant ride.

It was pleasant for the first hour and a half or so. Then the driver began stopping and picking up pretty women from the side of the road. He would drop them off 10 or 30 minutes later, sometimes going out of our way.  At one point, the entire van, which previously only had four passengers, was pack to the brim with some sitting on the floor.

I was not happy, but there was nothing to do. What was supposed to be a 3 hour trip turned into nearly five rather uncomfortable hours, and I began to wonder if I’d have been better off waiting and taking the bus.

Once I arrived at the bus terminal, I gave the man less money than he’d asked for and explained to him that I was very misled. He put up no fight about the decrease in his pay.  I was immediately hounded by touts coming from all directions.  Funny, because when we pulled in, I could see none.  I managed to keep my wits about me this time and checked the schedule for the next bus I would need.

It was later than I really wanted to leave the next morning, and I let a tout convince me to take another taxi. He promised he would be at the casa at 8 am and he promised he would go direct and he promised there would be no other passengers and he did it all with a straight face.

This same tout took me to a casa which happened to be in the guide, the first one.  It was in a good part of the city and I was happy just to be somewhere. It was raining and I’d already lost two hours of my one day in Camaguey, so I immediately took a bicitaxi to the market I’d read about in the guide.

When I arrived, it was pretty much closed, all the vendors had gone.  I do not know why, neither la dueña nor the taxi driver didn’t bother to tell me this key bit of information when I was asking them how to get there.

The taxi driver had agreed to wait for me (I wonder why?) and I had him take me to a restaurant. Of course it was probably the most expensive restaurant in the town. I sat down at a table, took a look at the menu and promptly left.

I wondered around, coming upon a very cool little area with lots of movie theaters (apparently Camaguey is quite famous for these…) and sidewalk bars.  I kept wandering and happily discovered I was very close to my casa. I was tired and wasn’t all too keen on walking around a city which is famous for the maze of streets they built to keep invaders out.  How was a simply tourist going to find her way around?  Remember, no iphones with GSP for Americans in Cuba.

So, after visiting the Casa de Chocolate and indulging in two lovely scoops of chocolate ice cream, I decided to get a bottle of rum.  I sat at sideway café on a plaza and drank rum and cokes in a tiny plastic cup and people watched the rest of the evening.

 

 

Traveling Tip #15 and #16

 

#15 It is difficult when being accosted by touts from all directions upon arriving in a new town to remember all it is you should do before leaving the station.  Checking the schedule for your next departure should be top on your list. I had forgotten all the other times and was so glad I finally remembered to in Comaguey.  If possible also buy, or at least reserve your tickets if you know when it is you are leaving.  I suppose this is usually easier in other places that have fast and easily accessed internet, but in Cuba you should check before you leave.

 

#16 Apparently, along with asking where something is, or how to get there, you should also ask if it is indeed open or functioning.  This happened with the ferry in Gibara, which had been closed for nearly two weeks, yet neither the nice man in the hotel, nor la dueña seemed to know or bother to tell me, and with the market in Camaguey.

Cuban Blog Day #12 Can you Spare a Square?

I was very excited to go to the beach the next day in Gibara.  I walked toward the ferry I needed to take to get there and was stopped by a man on the street who told e the ferry was not working. He walked with me while I went to confirm this, worried he was simply telling me this to get me to take a ride in his taxi.

He was telling me the truth, and I was upset that this information was not included when I asked the man at the hotel the day before, perhaps he didn’t know. I walked toward the beach in town disappointed about the change in plans and unable to afford the price the man who was still walking with me quoted me to take a taxi to the beach.

He walked with me and told me how he was learning English from various programs on TV. I was super impressed with the English he said he’d learned in just four short months. He told me it is the only way for him to make money.  This is a sentiment I heard many times while in Cuba. He was a mechanic by trade but made only about $30 US per month doing this. His wife was a nurse and made roughly the same. He told me he was learning English to get into the tourist industry and hopefully drive a taxi like his brother in law.

He walked with me all the way to the dirty little beach in town, and I wished I could do something more for him besides carrying on a conversation in English. I got my chance to do just that when, as we parted, he asked if I had any shampoo, soap, toothpaste, old cell phones, or memory cards. It seemed a peculiar list of items. I found a half bottle of lotion in my bag and gave it to him. I also gave him a magazine in English hoping he could use it to learn English.

I sat on the beach determined to make the most of my day, but it began to rain soon after I picked my spot and I rushed to a nearby shop to wait it out over a beer.  It continued to rain so I headed back to the casa.

The duena (owner) had two tour guides stop by, and they told me about a trek to the caves nearby. I had not planned on this, but since my beach day was ruined I thought I’d give it a go. They would come round for me at 4.

I walked up to the lookout on top of the city and had a lunch of crab and all the fixings. It was beautiful from the top to look down on the city and see the ocean below.  As I walked back down a couple ladies in a house asked me for a pen. I gave them the only one I had. They fought over who would get it.

I met the guides back at the casa, and we walked through town to the cave. I was even more impressed with this one. I had no idea what to expect except to base it off the last cave. This one was huge!  I had thought perhaps I didn’t need a guide mostly because I didn’t want to spend the money, but I was glad I had one once I realized how big and intricate it was. I for surely would have been lost in there for days.

The guides told me how they were working on getting the caves, of which there are plenty in Cubadue to the fact that the country is 70% limestone, to be declared national landmarks. The caves would then be protected and less abused by rowdy teenagers trying to find a place to party.  It was quite sad to see the various spray painted art and trash within the cave.

We walked on and on into the cave passing hundreds of bats and feeling drips of water as we went, till finally we came to a pool. This one was way bigger than the last, and I couldn’t wait to get in it. It was as deep as I am tall, and I could swim the length of it in a few minutes. I was in heaven.  It was most certainly the highlight of my trip at that point. And to think I might not have done it had the ferry not been broken. Serendipity!

 

Traveling Tip #14 if you can, that is, if you are not traveling on a shoestring and therefore simply have a tiny pack or suitcase, bring shampoo, toothpaste and other toiletries to give away. A few people had suggested this to me before I left, and I didn’t quite understand, nor have to the room to do so. But I wish I had brought more. I always take the tiny travel ones from hotels in the States, and it would have felt great to be able to bring them and give them away to those who need them.

Other things my friend asked for were old cell phones, memory cards and other electronics. These would be harder to come by and to bring, but are needed just the same.

Cuban Blog Day #12 Can you Spare a Square?

I was very excited to go to the beach the next day in Gibara.  I walked toward the ferry I needed to take to get there and was stopped by a man on the street who told e the ferry was not working. He walked with me while I went to confirm this, worried he was simply telling me this to get me to take a ride in his taxi.

He was telling me the truth, and I was upset that this information was not included when I asked the man at the hotel the day before, perhaps he didn’t know. I walked toward the beach in town disappointed about the change in plans and unable to afford the price the man who was still walking with me quoted me to take a taxi to the beach.

He walked with me and told me how he was learning English from various programs on TV. I was super impressed with the English he said he’d learned in just four short months. He told me it is the only way for him to make money.  This is a sentiment I heard many times while in Cuba. He was a mechanic by trade but made only about $30 US per month doing this. His wife was a nurse and made roughly the same. He told me he was learning English to get into the tourist industry and hopefully drive a taxi like his brother in law.

He walked with me all the way to the dirty little beach in town, and I wished I could do something more for him besides carrying on a conversation in English. I got my chance to do just that when, as we parted, he asked if I had any shampoo, soap, toothpaste, old cell phones, or memory cards. It seemed a peculiar list of items. I found a half bottle of lotion in my bag and gave it to him. I also gave him a magazine in English hoping he could use it to learn English.

I sat on the beach determined to make the most of my day, but it began to rain soon after I picked my spot and I rushed to a nearby shop to wait it out over a beer.  It continued to rain so I headed back to the casa.

The duena (owner) had two tour guides stop by, and they told me about a trek to the caves nearby. I had not planned on this, but since my beach day was ruined I thought I’d give it a go. They would come round for me at 4.

I walked up to the lookout on top of the city and had a lunch of crab and all the fixings. It was beautiful from the top to look down on the city and see the ocean below.  As I walked back down a couple ladies in a house asked me for a pen. I gave them the only one I had. They fought over who would get it.

I met the guides back at the casa, and we walked through town to the cave. I was even more impressed with this one. I had no idea what to expect except to base it off the last cave. This one was huge!  I had thought perhaps I didn’t need a guide mostly because I didn’t want to spend the money, but I was glad I had one once I realized how big and intricate it was. I for surely would have been lost in there for days.

The guides told me how they were working on getting the caves, of which there are plenty in Cuba due to the fact that the country is 70% limestone, to be declared national landmarks. The caves would then be protected and less abused by rowdy teenagers trying to find a place to party.  It was quite sad to see the various spray painted art and trash within the cave.

We walked on and on into the cave passing hundreds of bats and feeling drips of water as we went, till finally we came to a pool. This one was way bigger than the last, and I couldn’t wait to get in it. It was as deep as I am tall, and I could swim the length of it in a few minutes. I was in heaven.  It was most certainly the highlight of my trip at that point. And to think I might not have done it had the ferry not been broken. Serendipity!

 

Traveling Tip #14 if you can, that is, if you are not traveling on a shoestring and therefore simply have a tiny pack or suitcase, bring shampoo, toothpaste and other toiletries to give away. A few people had suggested this to me before I left, and I didn’t quite understand, nor have to the room to do so. But I wish I had brought more. I always take the tiny travel ones from hotels in the States, and it would have felt great to be able to bring them and give them away to those who need them.

Other things my friend asked for were old cell phones, memory cards and other electronics. These would be harder to come by and to bring, but are needed just the same.

Cuban BLog Day #11 Pink Taxis

I only needed one day in Bayamo. It’s a great, quaint city, but it’s tiny and there’s not much to do on a second day.  I suppose if I were to do the trip again I would skip Bayamo, but then I would have missed out on Alberto and his seemingly endless shots of Havana Club at Bar Esquina.

So I was off to another town on another bus. This time my destination was the town of Holguin, though I didn’t plan to stay long there. It was a short one and a half hour bus ride to Holguin, barely time to sleep.

Once at the bus station the most incredible rain began to fall. I’ve never seen anything like it. It came on so quickly and so heavy all at once.  It forced me to decide fast to take my first taxi to the town of Gibara, about half an hour away on the coast.

The taxi was a 1950’s pink Ford. It was beautiful, from the outside at least. The inside left a lot to the imagination and was comprised of several parts from other cars.  The driver was quite proud of this and told me all about which part was replace when.

The rain let up right as we arrived in the town.  I had a casapicked out from the guide book since I wasn’t arriving at a bus station this time. But, easily enough, the taxi driver knew someone who knew someone and I was taken to a casa closer to the center of town than the casa I had chosen. 

This casa was grand!  It was closer to a mansion than a house, with two story ceilings and a foyer large enough to occupy four sofas and several chairs, all placed about in separate sitting areas. I’ve never seen anything like it, especially because the style of the furniture was from what appeared to be the 1940’s. I was sold. 

After getting situated in the room, I went walking to see the beach and the ocean.  I had come to Gibara because I wanted more beach time and Holguin, which the guide recommended, just sounded like another big city to me. I splurged a bit on lunch at a rooftop restaurant with a view of the sea. I tried aguja, swordfish or needle in Cuban Spanish, for the first time and really enjoyed it.

After lunch, I went to a fancy hotel to find out about the ferry to take the next day to the beach. He spoke excellent English and knew all the details I needed to know to get to the beach. I went back to the casa and wrote in the sky filled courtyard.

I walked to the tiny beach in town and watched the sunset. Afterwards, I set out looking for a restaurant to have dinner. I was approached by a woman in the street asking if I had eaten yet, telling me she had excellent food and listing off everything she had along with very cheap prices. I kept walking to see all my options, but eventually returned to her, though it was hard to find her again. It was simply her house. There was no sign out front telling me it was a restaurant, and I nearly passed by it, till she came running after me. I am quite certain she is not government sponsored like restaurants and casas are supposed to be.

She walked me through her tiny house, where I sat under a giant umbrella roof made of coconut fronds. She was so friendly and very talkative. I felt for the first time like I was having a true, full conversation in Spanish.  She told me about her boy, her well, how her husband prepares all the food, how she works in cahoots with a friend who works at the nice hotel I went to earlier.  She said her friend will send guests to her when they get tired of paying $20 for a meal.  She gives her friend a kickback.  She tells me everyone raves about her food. I too, was impressed with the meal, but more so by the company.