My Cuban Adventure
My Cuban Adventure (Travel Diary) by Mohammed Hasan:
Cuba is a beautiful country: gorgeous women, uplifting music, colourful Chevrolets, and juicy nicotine-free cigars! It’s an enigma: a laissez-faire attitude to life, but the tentacles of state control still has a grip over its citizens.
Cuba is equally attractive as it is bizarre.
In Cuba bread is rationed.
In Cuba there are no adverts.
In Cuba people of different races seem to mix effortlessly.
In Cuba there’s live music everywhere and everyone is a semi-professional dancer; salsa is in their blood! People dance without any inhibition or awkwardness.
In Cuba people are resourceful; classic cars are preserved using spare parts from other cars.
In Cuba people invite strangers to eat at their homes, which they use as restaurants (Paladars) but they treat you just like family.
In Cuba people thought I was Cuban!
Havana:
At passport control, several airport officials greeted me: women wearing dark green uniforms, black high heels and fishnet tights; a stark contrast to the security at Heathrow Airport. They searched our bags and checked our visas before letting us through to the Arrivals section.
Our driver escorted us to the front entrance. Crowds of Cubans gathered around the automatic doors while eagerly opening their bags to gift expensive electronics and branded trainers to members of their family.
Loud crackles of thunder and torrential rain kept most travellers in submission. The airport was our sanctuary from the stormy weather. I realised we landed during hurricane season; “Sh*t that’s why the tickets were so cheap?!” “It’s ok, it’s only the first day – I’m sure the weather will get better” – I kept reassuring myself. I would later discover that the sun rises just as quickly as the rain falls.
Our driver sprinted across the road and jumped in to his car. He drifted in front of the pavement – I felt like - James Bond was picking me up. He rarely took his foot off the accelerator as he sped down the motorway while swerving to avoid cars that suddenly changed lanes; like many countries, a driver indicating is more of a luxury than a necessity.
We were dropped outside a lovely house in Vedado, a wealthier neighbourhood in Havana. The cream villa had stain glass windows, high ceilings and a lovely roof-top terrace overlooking the rest of the city. Throughout our trip we decided to stay with Cuban families; in Cuba the government allows their citizens to use their homes as hotels (Casa Particulares).
A father and son owned the Casa. The father was a suave man that spoke French, Spanish and English; we had to rely on mixing and matching all three to communicate.
Our first night in Havana was spent attending a Beatles tribute concert in Vedado. We stood at the side of the stage amongst a sea of beautiful mums, teenagers and a handful of backpackers all swaying to the music. We wouldn’t have found the concert stage without using my offline maps app.
Our second night in Havana was the most memorable night of the trip. It started with making small talk with another traveller at the Revolution Museum to a huge salsa party at the 1830 club.
We hitchhiked to Museo da la Revolucion (Revolution Museum). After stepping into a palatial looking entrance, Milo, an enthusiastic Californian of Mexican Descent said: “Dude I really like your shirt – it’s so cool”. We made small talk and agreed to meet at El Morro Castle before going to club 1830 to dance salsa. Milo wore glasses, a chequered shirt and a pearly white smile.
Our next stop was La Bodeguita del Medio, where the mojito was first invented. The bar was packed with tourists jostling to get a spot by the bar as a live music band performed. We met a Alejandro, a cool Venezuelan guy living in Costa rica, he puffed on his cigar while dancing to the music. Alejandro joined us to see the procession at El Morro Castle.
El Morro Castle was beautiful. Everyone loved the revolutionary guards and the blast from the canon almost burst my eardrums.
Not only did Milo turn up at the gates of El Morro castle – he convinced a dozen other people to join him. Milo convinced all of his friends from his hostel to wait outside and he arranged a fleet of classic cars to drop us to Club 1830. If that’s not leadership – I don’t know what is!
Club 1830 club was phenomenal. It was packed with locals and the live music was amazing. We danced underneath the stars until we were drenched in sweat. The dance floor was so humid that my phone’s camera was misty. I also befriended Nilesh who happened to be the childhood best friend of Mani; Mani is one of my friends from London; he only made the connection when Nilesh was telling him about his trip to Cuba #smallworld.
Havana Blues Kitchen:
This amazing restaurant has famous waiters; all the people that serve your food or take your orders are movie stars, television presenters or musicians in Cuba.
Our waiter was a lovely actress from the Novella “La Policiacos”.
Basketball with the Locals:
The famous court visited by NBA players in Vedado explained how some of these poor kids managed to wear the latest trainers worth $400; players like Lebron would give their shoes to the kids after a friendly game.
Visiting a Mercado (Supermarket) in the hood:
The absence of CCTV meant we had to put our bags in a cloakroom – we were given a number – it felt like we were at a nightclub. This is to prevent people from shoplifting. There were rows of empty shelves followed by stacks of identical brands for domestic cleaning products such as sprays and washing up liquid. There seemed to be more water bottles than food.
Art Gallery at a disused tobacco factory:
I bought this beautiful Cuban painting in art gallery at a derelict cigar factory in Havana.
Viñales:
Viñales is deemed the cigar capital of Cuba, and unlike Havana there weren’t many obvious signs of tourists. I didn’t see a large queue of tourists waiting for wifi or large tour buses parked outside hotels. Everyone visiting the city either stayed with families in Casa Particularesor slept in a wooden cabin (Cabana).
Nabeel and me lived like cowboys from a John Wayne movie. Our blue wooden cabin had: two rocking chairs in front of a small black & white television that played playing speeches from Cuban revolutionaries; a stove that took forever to heat up; a small dining table; a fridge packed with meat wrapped in plastic bags; our room had two beds draped in pink sheets and duvet covers. I’d wake up to see chickens running around our cabin, and our neighbours drying their hand washed clothes on the fishing line outside connected between our cabins.
I enjoyed puffing on my freshly made Cuban cigar while rocking back and forth on the patio of our cabin. I felt like a proud farmer.
Mountain biking through peaks and valleys through torrential rain almost got us killed. I dodged several potential collisions with vehicles after speeding through blind bends in the narrow roads and almost skidded off a hill with a 200 foot drop. The views were worth it.
Our tour of the tobacco fields was a reminder that behind the allure of Cuban cigars are an army of families harvesting, drying and rolling tobacco to make ends meet. We rode around the tobacco fields on horseback and stopped to drink coffee with Mickey; she explained the process from leaving the coffee beans on metal trays to roast in the sun to crushing the coffee using a wooden log.
Sophie, a tourist from Israel, translated most of our questions; her Spanish was better than the rest of the group. Sophie and Nabeel bonded over the Israeli TV programme “Beauty and the Baker”. We later met Sophie towards the end of our trip in Trinidad.
My mission was to find a live music venue and dance salsa in each city we visit. The guy that owned our cabin was a salsa instructor – he recommended – Casa De La Musica. It was a lovely mixture of tourists sitting at the bar and Cubans gliding across the dance floor. On our second night I bolted towards the dance floor and grabbed a beautiful Argentinian girl – we danced for a couple of songs and I returned back to my seat and high-fived Nabeel. The night before was a mess – I was too intimidated by the skill of the Cubans and didn’t take the chances I had to dance. I stood up again and danced to with two Iranian girls. We also met the girls from Miami that took a 40-minute flight to Cuba.
Cienfuegos:
It is clear that, this city was once inhabited by French immigrants; just looking at the buildings felt like I was in a small French town.
As walked towards our Casa, I saw a bus, Horse-drawn Carriage, car and motorbike at the same set of traffic lights. It was like I’d stepped inside a time machine.
Many of Cienfuegos side streets had no streetlights. I turned on my phone’s flashlight only to see a man on a horse trotting towards me. I would’ve been trampled if I didn’t hear the horse’s hooves hitting the pavement.
This was a cool city but I didn’t explore as much as I should have. I saw Cienfuegos as a pit stop before Trinidad. The highlight of my stay was walking along the Malecon to see young couples and their friends dancing to music blaring from boom boxes.
Trinidad:
Imagine a Post-colonial town with pastel coloured houses, cobble-stoned streets and beautiful wildlife. I can see why this town is a UNESCO world heritage site. Our lovely Casa was situated close to the action. Every morning we were served fresh fruit with coffee, and our balcony overlooked the main square where tourists and Cubans queued for Wi-Fi cards and strange men yelled “Amigo Amigo… Taxi?”
Our hosts were two lovely Cuban women. The mother worked as a maid at the Five-star hotel Iberostar and her sidekick cooked breakfast and cleaned the apartment.
On my first night I thought I was going to die. My symptoms? An intolerable fever that left my bed sheets drenched in sweat, severe joint pain, and regular trips to the toilet. Was it Zika? Food poisoning? Dodgy water? Or maybe envious colleagues stuck in their 9-5 jobs gave me the “evil eye”? I don’t know. It was so bad that Nabeel decided to visit a 24-hour clinic to see what was wrong. Nabeel was charged 200 USD for an IV drip and a stool sample; they wanted him to shit in a cup to which Nabeel replied: “I can’t… I need food – How can they expect an output without an input”. Spoken like a true engineer.
As Nabeel went to withdraw 200USD from a Cadeca – we bumped in to Sophie – the Israeli girl we met in Viñales. She shared her story working transitioning from being an intelligence officer for the Israeli Defence Force (IDF) to a comfortable desk job at an advertising agency.
Meeting the legendary Ramon:
A chance encounter with Ramon made our entire trip. Ramon was a hustler with a story. He was a guitar teacher, musician, travel agent, storyteller and all-round dilletante. He took a shining to Nabeel and me since we looked like his sons; I even spoke to one of them on the phone. Ramon was originally from Holgin but he'd spent the last two decades travelling across Cuba.
He took us for an unofficial tour of the mountains. We learnt to control unruly horses; small trots often lead to galloping at full speed. We made impromptu stops to pick mangoes and hike through a forest to see a beautiful waterfall.
Ramon invited us to his friend’s Paladar. We had a lovely meal and felt at home until all hell broke loose. One of the owners stormed upstairs after his wife started uncontrollably sobbing. The other host rushed the concrete steps to hold the man back from getting in a fight with his neighbour. I’ll never forget the look on his daughter’s face as she clutched onto her doll for a sense of security. Ramon ushered us out of the kitchen – we quickly paid and left without finishing our food.
Sophie and me decided to visit Trinidad’s famous cave. It was a club built within a cave. Crowds of locals queued along a hill in front a small dark entrance. Sophie was awkward because she didn’t know any salsa steps and ended up leaving. I’ll never forget the beautiful Cuban woman that I danced with or the awesome tourists I met by the toilets.
Final Thoughts:
Cuba taught me so many valuable lessons.
Every positive experience came from leaving my comfort zone and speaking to strangers. I found the best opportunities came from having a genuine interest in people not the “Must See” list in guidebooks.