Cuba, the good, the bad and the Downright dangerous. Aug10 sep 04

We got the bus again. We were unable to reserve so we took pot luck at getting to the station an hour or so before the bus left. We were again lucky. There is only one bus company that tourist are allowed to use and they have a very limited number of buses running.
We ended up chatting a lot to the German guy (called Wolfgang no less) we met at the station. He was really cool and friendly. He used be a guide in a few countries for years and years but now was a maths or science teacher. Very sociable and interesting chap. Like Sue, he was here for just a few weeks.

On the road to Baracoa, the driver stopped at a farm and we were able to buy fresh pineapple and other fruit. Oh bliss.

We got picked up by a bicycle propelled taxi. The owner was there also and he rode beside us on his bike. The place we were staying was about 6 minutes from the centre and was the most beautiful little cottage surrounded by flowers. It was hard to get prices out of the owner though but they were lovely. Although their cooking was not as good as the other casas.

We had breakfast there each morning. I had my problems with wheat which got to me at the start but was now manageable and Sue was now having issues with not getting enough fresh vegetables or fruit which was getting to her and she was coming down badly with the flu. She had developed a really bad cough which was killing her. But Baracoa was beautiful and such a different vibe. No one was really pushing anything on us.
We walked around town and down to the beach. It is an ok beach. Very nice in places. Incredibly rocky in others, as the full force of the sea hits the island at certain points, defenses have been erected as in Havana.

We met Wolfgang again, he was very keen to go to this particular beach and also to do a tour of the national park, as were we. He had met 2 other German guys, Daniel and Jochen, equally keen so we all decided to meet that night. After dinner at our casa, we met the boys at an outside table at the Casa de Cultura to listen to trova from within, which was very good indeed. We all decided to hire an illegal taxi that the boys had procured to take us to the beach next day. The 3 boys were such a laugh.

9.30am Sue and I arrived to meet the boys for our tour. However, the taxi was nowhere to be found. We waited for an hour our so. Then someone did turn up but we were unsure it was the appropriate person. However, he seemed ok. Off we went. While motoring along the road, however, we were stopped by the police. There was no hiding the 5 of us. This time though the driver stopped and took the fine on the nose and was able to carry on with us. So that is how it´s done.

We started off at this fruit plantation, where we were able to get the most glorious juice. We passed some lovely sights and then finally we arrived at this incredible sandy beach. It was hot but whos complaining. The taxi was very keen for us to eat at this beach restaurant. He was obviously on commission. I ate as I was hungry and Sue helped me out. It was beautiful fresh fish and rice. I am eating so much good stuff since Havana. We stayed for a few hours walking.

We arrived back in town but got off in a side street to avoid the police and another fine. We met Wolfgang later in one of the restaurants recommended in the Lonely planet. The LP didnt fail us. The restaurant food was impecable and scrumptious. Later we went by the Casa de Cultura and met the boys. It is fun watching them. The Cuban girls are mad after the pair, as they are pretty hot. However, Jochen has no interest. Daniel on the other hand is up for play time. They left us to hang out on the path and play guitar, surrounded by locals and a few girls. Jochen did come back for a while as was getting tired of girls trying to seduce him.

This old man then arrived at our table. He said he was 86. He was aright little cheeky bugger but delightful. After money, of course but he serenaded us well, so we obliged. Am a sucker for cute old men who sing to me. Well actually cute guys who sing to me ha ha. Too bad there are so few of them. Later we passed by the boys, the pair of them fluttered and strumming a guitar.

As the beach trip was so successful. We booked the taxi to take us to the national park. It was a long drive but we hired one of the resident guides, who took us through the park, showing us the local flora and fauna. It was so beautiful. There are many plants, indigenous solely to this park or Cuba. After that we took a little boat through the mangrove forest for an hour. It was a fabulous day and trip. On the way home, we even got to buy some great street food and fruit from some farmers. Life was good.

We had dinner in the Casa. We felt we ought to but Sue was not so happy with the food. She was becoming more ill. I left her be, to rest, she needed it and I went off to join Wolfgang. He was sitting outside the Casa de Cultura with whom, I was later to find out, was the head of the Culture in Baracoa. He was facinating, intelligent and really cool to talk to. He had been a teacher previously but thought standards were falling so left. He said he loved Cuba and never wanted to leave but did want to visit other places and have more freedom.


This echoed the thoughts of many we have spoken to. He too was afraid that because Cuba had been deprived of things American etc. that when freedom did come or Fidel passed away, the urge by the young to have anything American could destroy Cuba. I said I felt that exiled Cubans etc. were just waiting to come in and devour Cuba. They have lots of money to buy up everything in sight and those here will gladly give it thinking they will be rich and being altruistic helping their brother Cubans. They won´t be. I have seen the same thing in Nicaragua etc.. The locals receive a pittance for prime real estate. The new foreign owners then make an absolute fortune on the same property selling it on or developing it. It will be disastrous for the culture. Nevertheless, Cuba also needs change. Raul Castro is loosening the restrictions and was supposed to introduce more internet freedom. But we will see.

Next day Sue was still feeling ill, so I went to the nearby beach by myself. I was sitting minding my own business, when this gent just offered me some fruit whilst passing. then this lovely lady came up and offered me dinner. She was there with her daughter who was engaged to a Frenchman who was also there. I chattted to them for a while. Dinner was delicious. I thought initially she was selling it to me. But she was just offering it to me. I have been in latin America too long. Ha Ha. I thought wow this is great. It was such a sweet gesture tho.


But true to form, later these 3 young guys came up and chatted. Before long one of them pretended to hide behind me for protection from his friend, fooling around but then tried to grope me. I slapped him off in jest but got the point across and they then left. Later this guy selling massage oil wanted to show me how it was on the skin. I put out my arm but he went for my stomach, the little git. I slapped him off too. I felt a bit exposed lying on a beach in my bikini. Urgh Cuban men can be so very tiresome. The amount of times you are just walking along the street and they come up and strike up a conversation. It is all harmless but they are after a western girlfriend so they can get presents or a passport. Take your pick. So there is no hope of getting a big head and thinking you are so gorgeous. Ha Ha!! Sue joined me later, which was a relief.

We went to another restaurant recommended by Lonely Planet and brought the 3 boys along. We had such a laugh.They are such good fun.


Next day we went to the bus to get back to Santiago and then Santa Clara. We got lucky and didnt have to stay in Santiago again. We arrived early morning in Santa Clara. We got to leave our bags in the bus station after giving a tip. Money talks.

Santa Clara has money and not from tourism. Cafe society exists here, even if only with cheese and ham sandwiches and limited choice of beverages. But it does exist. We partook. After breakfast, we went to the scene of one of Che Guevaras biggest and the revolutions most decisive battles. They had blown a train up and fought and won against a heavily armed contingent of Batistas soldiers.

Later we went to the Che memorial and burial place. The monument was pretty impressive. The Che museum was really better than I thought it would be. There were things from Che´s childhood, photos, school reports, teen fotos, things pre his guerilla days and various items of clothing etc. he wore or used in his guerilla days, his Mate cup of course was there too and some of his diaries.. No photos etc. were allowed either in the museum or tomb.

The tomb was beautiful. . It was so still and tranquil with candlelight and subdued lighting. Really tastefully done. You could tell it was built with love and respect. A few of the most notable rebels who fought and died with Che were buried there too. It was a really a beautiful place and am so glad we went.


After our whirlwind tour of Santa Clara and Che memories, we then got the bus to Vinales. The intention being I would stay there and Sue would go to Marie la Gorda or Isla de Juventude to dive.

We didnt bother booking a casa in advance but landed a brilliant one and for way cheaper than the others because of it. Fab. Oh my god the food was to die for. Our hostess was a really wonderful cook.

The day after arriving we went on tour with our hostess´ daughter. A little bit of a money grabber but interesting enough. She was having an off day though but we were lucky to hook up with another tour with some lovely people in it. We got to go to a tobacco farm and even to try some cigars. I bought a few. The scenery was wonderful and the walk fairly sedentry. We entered some underground caves, swam in the dark underground river with torches and viewed some stalagmites and stalagtites. Even got to taste some fabulous fruit and sugar cane juice. Next day we went up to the hotel overlookingVinales. It was quite the posh hotel, used mostly by tour groups and even had fresh orange juice for sale. We lazed around by the pool taking in the sun while it shone, until the rains hit that is.

However, our lazing around and joy was short lived.

The TV warned of a hurrican fast approaching. Early, as hurricane season was not due for another few weeks or a month. It was supposed to be heading for Havana but came our way instead. As we watched the news reports, the warnings became more severe. First it was a force 3 then 3.5, last we heard it was force 4 gearing up to maybe force 5, the worst possible. Oh dear, we were right in the thick of it an no way of getting out. We probably could have got a taxi but we decided to brave it.
On the morning it was due, we got up to find that most of the furniture had been moved from the sitting room into the back of the house. All glass etc was put elsewhere for safety. Not a good sign. They kept trying to reassure us but the signs were evidently not good. Around 12.30, electriciy was turned off. We now had no way of knowing where or what was happening with the hurricane. The electricity is turned off by the Cuban government, as a safety mechanism. Many who die in hurricanes etc. die from fallen wires etc. I thought this was a pretty sensible plan. Sue and I thought it was such good luck now in retrospect, that she had been too ill and had not booked any diving. She had been heading to the areas that were now completely evacuated, as the path of the hurricane was over the Isla de Juventude.


We walked around and met some other travellers, stuck as we were. So this French couple and this Aussie guy (Shane) joined us in our walkabout. We went to this lovely garden, a 100 years in the making, put together by these 2 sisters, now well into their 90s, whose family had started the process. There were many beautiful, unusual plants, gathered by the sisters over the years. There were also some bizarre items like beer cans hanging off bushes or ancient dolls or dolls heads stuck on branches. It was quite the eccentric garden.
These fotos above show Vinales in the calm before the storm.


It was raining and blistery. We lost the French couple and later Sue went back to the casa to rest. I stayed with Shane, as I felt we would be in the casa long enough and I would get a little stir crazy, also I wanted to see what it was like on the streets. Besides that Shane was by himself in his casa and didn´t speak much Spanish, so it would be a lonely vigil for him til the hurricane passed. At the petrol station, people had gathered in the only cafe that was open. It was warm and we were able to grab a sandwich. We stayed there till 2.30pm. Then we could feel the intensity of the storm growing. Branches, big ones were already being torn from the trees and were littering the ground, as we walked. It was weird saying goodbye, as neither of us knew what would be the outcome of tonight. It was that bizarre.



I got to the casa, to find Sue and our hosts somewhat concerned at my late return. The house was battoned down. There was wood nailed to all the shutters and windows. Everything was either nailed or tied down. The owners fear had increased since morning. We knew it was going to be bad. We stayed in our room. I decided to pack everything. so that if we had to run or leave anything it would be all tied up. I put all my necessary stuff into my small rucksack and put my raincoat on the door knob, all ready, if we had to make a quick getaway. Sue did likewise. I kept my boots on. I reasoned that I didn´t want to be like Bruce Willis in "Die hard" walking around barefoot on glass. HA Ha!! I know I watch too many movies. but it has always been a thing with me to have shoes I could run in. If I had to. AND tonight I just might have to, if the roof caved in.


There was no way to see out, as everything was nailed. So the only way we could see what was happening was when the owner opened the door to let her husband in or out depending on the work he was doing, or when they were just being nosey. I kept my ears open for those opportuinities to look out. Ok so I have a morbid curiousity. But I found it exasperating not to be able to look. Both the owners mothers had been brought to our casa, as ours was the strongest house. One kept praying on her rosary bead. It didn´t reasure or help anyones nerves hearing some old lady praying, like her life depended on it. And maybe it did. Bless her she was on her last legs and this was not helping.


The owners were so good to us and brought us tea and invited us to be in the back area of the house. We decided to stay in our room at the front. We didnt want to intrude. It was not really the time to make polite faltering converstation.

The winds were working up a storm outside and their force was intensifying rapidly and ferociously. The rain was belting the windows and walls and hammering the roof. Rain water was seeping in through the joins of the roof and walls. As the storm gathered its strength, the force of the rain was so bad it just shot in through the joins. I helped the ladies of the house brush the water out the front door. It was that bad. We got rid of a lot but later, it was twice as bad. At least it gave me something to do. We felt a bit useless. We had no light and I didnt want to use my torch in case we needed it later.



As the evening wore on, the rain howled like some prehistoric wounded animal. It was a ROAR, so loud, I have never encountered anything like it in my life. The wind and what ever it was carrying, whipped the doors, walls and windows. I pitied the poor animals outside peoples houses, trapped in their hutches etc.. The howl got worse. Sue was lying down on the bed. She hated it. She hates storms which I had not realised till tonight. For me I enjoyed them so it was not so bad, although this one was severely testing me. But I felt we we would be ok with that funny thing I have, I just felt nothing bad would happen us. I didn´t have that bad feeling I often get when bad things are going to happen. So I guess I was slightly protected but still I couldn´t be sure it would be ok. We lay on Sues bed, as water was coming in a little on on my side of the room. We each lay in our private world, with our fears of what the night would bring. It was only 6pm. It was already the worst storm we had ever experienced and it wasn´t over yet.


As the storm grew, I was seriously afraid the roof would go. I could almost feel it lifting at times, as the hurican ran amok, like some ogre swinging his club. At one stage the owners ran in and dragged us out of our room. They were afraid the front of the house was going to go. You could almost feel the house lifting. It was like a battalian of soldiers were ramming the house down. We went back to our room when there was a slight lull but it just got worse. It was so bad Sue and I huddled together and hugged. We were effin scared. About 8.30/9pm, I really could have sworn that was it. The roof was gone, it was like just a few more blasts would tear it off, like a wrapper off a chocolate bar. I prayed, I can tell you.


Then miraculously, the winds started to die down. We couldn´t believe it. We thought it was going to accelerate again but it didnt. We had survived a force 4/5 hurricane.


We helped the owners brush out the water again from the sitting room. It was about an inch deep, maybe more. Thank god everything had been removed from the front room. The husband went outside to check damages. It was all good. Incredible!!


There was a tangible sense of relief. Anything could have happened but it didnt. At least not to us. We nodded off in the lull despite the still gusting winds. I slept with my boots on. Sue laughed but I am a girl guide at heart the girl guide motto "Be prepared" was something I took to heart.


Next morning we got up early. We looked outside. It was a gloriously sunny day. Who would have thought that the night before ever happened. Sue kindly texted Maudie and Dad for me. Apparently he had been worried sick, as he was able to see a lot more than us on TV and it had not been a pretty picture portrayed by the media. He was probably more worred, as a result than us. Sue´s parents had been sick with worry too and had actually cried when they heard her voice.



The husband of the house, set about removing the nails etc. and then went off to help neighbours and check the respective mothers houses. Most of our street was ok, so we thought the storm didnt do much. However, on closer inspection, the roof of one house was missing. The occupants were drying their TV, mattresses, clothes etc. in the sun.



We then wandered around the rest of the streets. Oh my god. the absolute devastation. The crossroads near our street was a lake. Chickens were running around like headless chickens do. Many rooves were on the ground or folded back still dangling from the walls of their houses. The streets were strewn with branches, whole trees. Not just small trees but huge giant trees in places. Sometimes trees had fallen onto the rooves of houses. We had to step over trees to walk along the streets. We wanted to take fotos but it seemed a sick thing to do. I saw this middle aged lady walking in dirty clothes, just a couple of plastic bags in her hand. She was totally traumatised. She just kept repeating "I have lost everytihing, everything is gone." God it was sad. I just wanted to give her a hug. Later, this car passed by and the people seemed to be smiling. I asked how they were, bad move. Oh god the woman just burst into tears, she had come up from the coast. Everything had been destroyed. I felt so bad for her.





We went up by the Casa de Culture. This had been a beautifully renovated two story colonial house. Now most of the tiles were on the ground beneath, whipped off in last nights frenzy. The church to the right of it, when we approaced, looked remarkably unscathed. However, when we walked around, we saw the huge tree to the left had lost half its immence trunk which had crashed onto the church and its roof. Luckily it was not the whole tree and it was only a little of the roof. Still it was severely damaged. Glass windows were smashed. The large wooden doors badly damaged. The surrounding plaza completely covered in branches and tiles.

We heard this whimpering from underneath some poor houses roof, that had blown onto the plaza. This poor young dog came out to our call. He was still trembling. Petrified! We sat for a while and just stroked him till the trembling subsided. We met other dogs in a simlar state. Totally traumatised from the night before. We wanted to help but there was just nowhere to volunteer. Everyone was just trying to get to grips with events. The tidying up was happening just at the house level.

We walked around a bit more. Electricity pylons lay strewn on the ground, wires throwb across streets. We heard about the hotel, whose pool we had lazed by. Apparently it was a wreck. Practically demolished, as was another hotel that had been on an equally impressive lookout point. I guess there are disadvantages to being that high up huh! We met a mother and sun that had been staying there. They apparently had been locked in tehir rooms for their safety. God I would have hated that. Also that could have been lethal. They had spent a petrified night and were desperate to escape Vinales.


We walked up there to see the damages. It was bad. Later we met Shane and the French couple. Shane had sat with the Grandfather of the house outside looking at the storm for hours. He said the grandfather was enjoying himself. I would have liked to have been with someone like that. They lost a bit of the roof of the outside but otherwise his casa was intact. As was the French Couples.
We were standing at a corner, when the dogs we had befriended came up to me. At fist there was only 2 then suddenly there wre about 5 dogs jumping up on me wanting a pet. It was very disconcerting. I also had my periods adn I had this awful fear that they could misinterprete that. ouch. Dinner I wasn´t.

We met this French guy, who had been driving around Cuba near Vinales. In the storm, his car had broken down outside Vinales and they had to thumb a ride to town. He was organising to get his hired car rescued. He had not heard anything about the storm until yesterday evening so had to rush to Vinales and get accomadation. The had to pay 30 dollars for a breakfast. Sheer extortion.


We met loads of people desperate to leave town and get to Havana. Shane, the French couple and ourselves decided to stay on another day and in that way help out. Also there was no hope of a bus and no clue as to what the roads were like. There was still danger of falling trees uprooted because of the storm but still standing as of now. Still people took taxis out. We saw loads of people taking photos and videos. Completely blatant about it. It made us pretty disgusted. If it was discreet I would say ok but this was not.


We all went by the 100 year old garden. Oh what a sad sight. It was destroyed. 100 year old trees felled to the ground. Bushes flattened. It would take years, if not longer to regenerate. It summed it all up. Very sad.


Farmers had gathered selling fresh fruit on the streets. They had to. So much had been destroyed or torn down that they were trying to make the most of it, while the fruit was still edible. God knows what would happen the rest of the year or maybe more years, as the harvests were now destroyed and would need total replanting. Whole banana plantations were just heaps of leaves and rotting fruit.

We were told that electricity might take 20 days or even a month to repair. The damage was that severe. Nevertheles, the word on the street was that no one was killed. A miracle considering the strenght of the storm. Unusual as many were killed in equivalent storms, in other countries. But the governments quick action to evacuate people and turn off the electricty contibuted hugely to this.

It was bizzare if you stood at any corner for any lenght of time, foreigners, came to talk to you, asking about buses, how it was for us etc.

That evening, we were overawed, a delicious dinner was on the table, as if nothing had happened. Despite no electricity and all the work to clean up the place. My god they are amazing people.

We arranged to meet the French couple and Shane after dinner in the main plaza. We had nothing else to do. So we had a bit of havana rum, as you do.


Next day, we tried to contact the mother and son we had met yesterday to share a taxi to Havana. But no go. So we went to the main drag. This man offered a taxi. I said we would but not until I found this couple. He took this as a yes and procured another couple I told him no we had given our word to some others. I had left Sue back at the casa whilst I looked for the couple. When I got back to the casa, the taxi driver was there I was quite irriated to be put under such pressure. Anyway I left Sue to continue packing and went off with my bags. As I couldn´t find the mother and son, we ended up going with this English couple who were adorable. Our driver was lovely and not the person who had been the go between. Thank god. He was nervous about the journey, if the police caught him...

Along the road, we could see the flattened landscape that previously held rows of trees and plants. Huge electricity pylons had been crumpled like paperclips, along the road to Havana. Completely twisted and flattened. Surreal.



We were finally back in Havana. We had a really nice casa right in the centre around the corner from the Floridita, Hemingways old haunt. Havana had luckily been untouched by the storm. I couldn´t see it survive what we had. Nature had been kind, at least to Havana.

Next day, Sue and I took a taxi to Hemingways house, a few miles outside of Havana on a splendid hill overlooking the city. It was such a beautiful house, all white and 50´s furniture. And books everywhere. Everything had been left as it was on the day he died, even down to the array of magazines he left on his coffee table. His yacht had been brought to the gardens and a special cover built to protect it. He used this for his deep sea fishing. Nearby the boat were 4 small graves where hisdogs had been buried. We took lots of photos needless to say.

We came back to town and went to a few corners, we had not got to yet. Walking along the street we bumped into this Italian we had met on our tour, then another Italian we had met in Baracoa and Vinales came along.

As we were chatting, along came Eddy whom I had first met in San Juan, Nicaragua, bumped into again in Utila, Honduras and here he was in again Havana. Small world! We all arranged to go to a bar that nightafter our visit to the fort.


Just before Sunset, we visited a fortress across from Havana main. It was a huge well maintained fortress and inside was a museum with much military regalia and a short history of the Cuban missile crisis among other things. At 7pm was the item we were waiting for, the march of old uniformed soldiers from around the 18th century was announced witha trumpet call. .They did their changing of the guard etc. Then set off the cannon to herald the end of the day. It was pretty interesting. We had dinner at the fort in this rather nice restaurant. Although the service was painfully slow. We then rushed off to meet the boys. We met in this bar with a mixture of locals and foreingners. And Salsa music. The talk turned to politics and Cuba Libres. It was a fun night.



Next day, walking along the steet, we met this man at a corner, on a bike with these 2 remarkably well trained dogs. They were so cute and clever. We had a chat with him and of course took the requisite photos, with a tip thrown in. I still was amazed at each new street I saw, each more beautiful than another.

We walked along one of the main thoroughfares and found the book sellers. I managed to buy a few diaries of Che Guevara and a history of the Cuban Missile crisis and US involvement in Cuba. Tehre have been about 600 attempts by the CIA etc. on Fidel. Also The US has waged warfare includign biological warfare on Cuba even now. There are so many terrorists actions by the US on Cuba and many other countries and yet they get away with it.

Later we went to the big craft market. Some pretty cool stuff was for sale. The most amazing part was the artists corner. Some great paintings were on display. If I had more money and space I would have bought so much.

Near the harbour in this sheltered alley, were a load of fishing boats. These had been placed here just before the hurricane hit for protection. It was such a bizarre sight to see fishing boats on the street. We waited while they loaded them on trucks to return them to their natural habitat.

That night, Sue and I dined in this restaurant by the harbour. Again it came recommended by Lonely planet. Again they didn´t lie,. It was brilliant and a beautiful setting overlooking the harbour and of course expensive.
Our last day together, we went for a walk to the big market and then had a Mojito in the Bodega, the other of Hemingways haunts. We finally got there. The walls were covered in graffiti left by previous visitors. So Sue and I added our mark, as you do...

In one of the old squares, I had my fortune told by this Santeria?? lady. Didnt understand most of it but it was fun. I think she blessed me. She was rather a large lady, dressed in the ery African LAtina Santeria white lace and a big fat Cuban cigar in her mouth. Foto was here but got deleted. somehow...


Sues taxi never turned up, but we got a good deal to pick her up and the English couple we had shared a taxi from Vinales, who were leaving on the same plane as Sue. It was sad to see her go.


However, I had arranged to meet Eddy and he turned up later. We walked for hours around Havana to places I would never have gone. We passed the US office of Cuban concerns. They dont have an embassy now but this "Equivalent". Fidel had positioned about a 100 flags right infront of the offices as a reminder and an upright finger to the US. Each flag representing several of those that had died due to US involvement in Cuba.


We ended up chatting in the park for hours after dinner and our exploration of the city. It was interesting to hear Eddys version of Cuba. His Dad is Cuban and his mother is African American. When he came first he had a wonderful time but when he came back this time, he experienced racism from the Police on a regular basis as they thougth he was a local adn he fitted the "profile". I.e he has dreads. That was sad.


Next day I did a last wonder around. My taxi didnt turn up either but I ended up in a mototaxi. This I had heard was illegal but he was prepared to do it. He was a young chap and was so delighted to get me in. He had such a grin on his face and was waving to all his friends. However near the airport all happiness was doused with a good scolding from the police. They fined him but left him continue to the aiport, then some other policeman cornered him. Poor chap.

And then I was off to Honduras. Adieu Cuba. It was fun