Day 4:
Today we arrived in Cuba! We got off the ship as soon as it docked, about 8ish, but soon discovered that Havana doesn’t really open until 10. We randomly wandered along the sea road and then went into the city itself.
This was clearly off of the tourist bit and it was a complete shit hole. In fact it was literally covered in dog shit, some of it white bringing back the 70s theme again. It also had teenage girls who looked about 13 holding babies and asking for money. We found a public square which wasn’t covered in shit, just had a faint whiff of it, and sat down at a cafe. Not thinking at all about the water content I ordered a couple of frapachinos. We had be warned about Caribbean time keeping which, you may find hard to believe, is worse then North Devon! The drinks took an absolute age to arrive. We drank enough not to seem rude and fucked off quick. To be fair what we had was very nice I just didn't want to risk 'Montezuma's Revenge'.
Thanks to the length of time it took for our drinks to arrive it was about 10 which meant that the artisan market was open. With the help of a downloaded version of Google maps we made our way towards it. Almost as soon as we entered a very pretty young lady who spoke excellent English wanted me to follow her to see her stall so of course I did. Lyn rescued me before I touched her box (a wooden puzzle box which she was trying to sell) because I'm fairly sure if you touch it, you buy it. Lyn thought it best to hold my hand very securely from this point on. The ground floor consisted of about 4 different shops types all selling similar tat which were then repeated to infinity. The second floor was a bit more interesting as it was all paintings. There was one painting, very nice but very large, which we nearly bought but instead we got something small, painted by a local artist which she signed and then carried on exploring.
We made our way to the more touristy bit of old Havana which was very clean and didn't have puddles of piss. Architecturally it reminded me of Cadiz which should come as no surprise. We wanted a drink and there was a hotel that looked nice but we rejected that in favour of what looked like a proper local bar. Nobody seemed to speak English and I don’t speak Spanish. I tried to order whiskey but she just looked at me blankly. In the end she took me to the bar and pointed out a load of bottles of spirits all lined up, all looked to be local equivalent of spirits and I recognised none of them so I just ordered 2 beers. The clientele in this place looked like a cast of characters from a dime novel. I probably could have spent a whole day sat here making up stories for everyone. Even Lyn said the place looked ‘cool’ not a word she uses often or lightly. Turns out the bar didn’t have prices in US dollars which was all we had. The manager (I assume) just asked for $5, I didn’t have that so just gave him $20 and we left with everyone happy.
For the evening we had booked a night drive in old cars. This did not start until 9:30pm and was supposed to last an hour and a half. As we were waiting a fellow tourist came up to me because he thought I was going to be the guide! Apparently this was because I was wearing a lanyard and he mistook my camera as a microphone. The cars were half an hour late arriving (Caribbean time keeping again) and when they did Lyn and I got the worse one. Instead of a 1950s death trap. We ended up in a 1928 death trap.
Now death trap is a term that’s bandied around all to often these days 'Ooo look at that rough bit of wood, you could get a splitter from that. It's like a death trap'. No it's not. An old car in Havana which is being kept together with string, hope and probably dog shit (they have lots of that) is a death trap. Keep in mind these cars when new were built in a time before the concept of passenger safety. They would put in sharp metal things ready to pierce the human body if you went over a speed bump too quick because it looked good. The sharp pointy things are still there except now they're rusty. Would I go in them again? Yes!
Initially we were a bit annoyed because of the lateness. Havana isn't lit up like Las Vegas so you couldn't see much. On the plus side there was practically no traffic. People don't have the fuel to just drive around for no reason. This meant it was like a proper wacky racers with the cars all over taking each other, music blaring out (our driver liked Celine Dion) and people waving at each other. It was fun as long as you didn't look at how much work the driver was having to do just to keep the car going in a straight line or how close we came to hitting a curb and flipping to our inevitable deaths. Still definitely worth doing.
Day 5:
We just had the morning left in Havana and had booked a walking tour. Tours are always dependent on the guide and fortunately we had a good one. This is where you can get a proper insight into a place from people who actually live there and I’ve always found it very informative. In many respects speaking to the guides about their life is better than the historical information you're getting on the tour itself. Leonardo used to be a teacher and for this he got 6000 Cuban pesos a month or about £200. As a tour guide he gets 7000 pesos but more importantly tips. Any tips he gets i.e. dollars has to go into a special bank account which can then only be used in certain shops. He also gets, like everyone, rations from the government of rice, beans, oil and other stuff but no meat, no fish and no milk. Of course there is a black market but he said if you wanted meat there's no way of knowing how sick the animal was before it was slaughtered.
Our tour was basically around the cleaned up tourist bit we'd walked around the day before so it filled in a few details. For example as we wandered around Leonardo pointed to the hotel we had decided NOT to have a drink in and said it was where Ernest Hemingway use to live and drink. When we pointed out the bar we had a drink Leonardo said he was too scared to go in there which makes it even cooler!
I did give Leonardo a big tip (big for me) at the end of the tour. I even gave a dollar each to the beggars outside a church we had gone into. I got told off in the church because I forgot to take my hat off so that might have balanced it out a bit. Since the American blockade cruise ships have practically stopped going to Cuba. Even Marella will stop after April. America has also vastly restricted the amount of money ExPat Cuban's can send back home to family. I'm aware this is pretentious but unlike other places we've visited (who put a service charge on the bill and then expect a tip on top) I actually felt the money I gave and spent here made a difference.
We stood on our balcony and waved goodbye to Cuba and then had a snooze in the afternoon. The ship actually had a guest act that evening which was The Man They Call G. It was a bit like a 'successful' Britains Got Talent audition. Click on the link and you'll see what I mean. He was definitely playing to his audience although I think the Frank Spencer impression was a bit passe´. He also did a more racier show late at night which seemed a bit redundant on an adult only cruise.
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