Cayo Guillermo es mucho mejor de Varadero

I was planning to end my trip by visiting a couple beaches & doing some diving. Now I was pretty intent on trying to see the funeral in Santiago, a city only 2hrs from Holguin, where my flight leaves for the US on the afternoon of Mon Dec 5. I considered lingering in SC for a bit longer bc I was in the right place (along w Havana & Santiago). Sure enough, 3 large construction vehicles w lifts began doing odds & ends repairs & paint refreshes Sat evening on the grand buildings surrounding Parque Vidal, long after normal govt worker hours, clearly preparing for the caravan that will pass through – but based on my estimates, it wouldn’t reach Santa Clara until Wed eve or Thurs morn, so I decided to head out to Cayo Guillermo as planned. 
Some of my fave albums ever got me through a frustrating 3-hr bus ride that included a 45-min late start for no apparent reason & an hour long stop for a late lunch 20 mins from my destination of Ciego de Avila. The punk goddess/poet Patti Smith’s Horses’ put a smile on my face as it does every time w the very first lyrics – quite possibly one of the best starts to an album ever. It’s certainly not for everyone bc she’s so weird in a really great kinda way… I liken her to the female version of Lou Reed, another one of my obsessions. Then I moved to another all time great, Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue, which is definitely for everyone. I finished in the Latin realm w Manu Chao’s Clandestino which made me happily recall one of the first Lollapalooza’s since being permanently based in my Chicago (so prob 10 yrs ago), where he played opposite the home town Kanye West to close the fest on Sunday night. All but about 5k went to see Kanye while my sis, a friend & I spread out & danced like crazy people to Manu Chao, along w everyone else in the crowd who very obviously really appreciated his music. One of the best, craziest, high energy, fun shows I’ve ever seen. Screw Kanye (still). 
My trip was not over at Ciego de Avila. I found & negotiated w a taxi driver to take me the 2-hr drive to Cayo Guillermo, supposedly a lovely somewhat-difficult-to-get-to little island w pristine beaches, great diving, exciting kite surfing (which I’ve always wanted to try) & good deep sea fishing. It just so happens to be the island & beach (Playa Pilar) that Hemingway called his favorite back in the day when there wasn’t a man-made causeway connecting it, via Cayo Coco, to the mainland. A total coincidence that I went through the trouble to end up here. 
I checked out the kite surfing early on. The bulk of them are further SE from the hotel closer to a point on the island – where SE & E winds collide. As I walked down the beach, I could feel the winds pickup. Then I just sat there for hours watching. I talked to a couple guys about lessons & questioned the learning curve due to the strong winds. “Oh but the winds are good… helps you get up. Makes it easier.” And then I watched for an hour as a relatively physically fit man repeatedly tried & failed to mount his board in the water while keeping control of his kite. Poor guy was trying his best to heed the advice of his instructor, who was following him in the water, as his kite took the newbie 100 yds down the beach, clearly failing. It reminded me of the time Karen, Gina & I checked out Pirlanta beach in Cesme, Turkey off the coast from Izmir known for being one of the top kite surfing beaches in the world & witnessed a woman, clearly in the early stages of her lesson so still on the beach, dragged 50 yards down the beach by her kite while eating mouthfuls of sand. That beach was far windier than this. But this was still a bit intimidating. So I sat & watched for awhile. After an hour, I stopped watching the newbies as I decided that I should first perhaps give surfing a whirl before I throw a kite into the mix (surf camp in Peru sounds pretty fabulous right!?!). I then turned my focus to the experienced guys & was especially floored by a guy who had no footholds on his board (what!) so when he gets air (& he was getting the highest air), he isn’t grabbing his board to show-off, he’s doing it so he has something to land on. He was more kite skateboarding & I’ve never seen anything like it before. Impressed. 
IMHO, although I do consider myself somewhat of an expert when it comes to grading beaches, this is superior to Varadero. However… in order to visit now, there are only 4 hotels to choose from. All of them are all-inclusive resorts. I’m quite certain Ernie would roll over in his grave. I’ve never done an all-inclusive before. It’s a real nice place – a fancy Spanish owned resort. I don’t think I wanted to like it. I was a doubter when it came to the food & drinks assuming the former would be terrible & the latter would be watered down. But it was pretty darn good. I did get to know a bartender Wildmer quite well who was heavy on the pour. Muchas gracias, Wildmer. BTW… there are drinks (clearly)! Apparently the Spanish hotel owner doesn’t dare cross his Canadian & European guests, who as far as I’m concerned barely recognized Fidel died or there was anything happening outside of their all-inclusive little world, by withholding booze. So it flowed. A bit too freely for some. But still no music. 





The kite surfing I was obsessed with. Someday. 

https://youtu.be/Oj55blYNriI

Hold on… no musica or fiesta in Cuba for 9 days?!?! I’m not loving this period of mourning

When Raul Castro came on state tv just after 10:30pm to announce Fidel’s passing, I was fast asleep. I’m not usually that lame but I was first put in a room in the casa directly facing the street & night 1, it’s almost as if the sound of the cars, motorcycles, trucks, horse carriages & people passing by my window was amplified by the beautiful 20ft ceilings in my room as the noise seemed louder than it does even on the street. So no sleep on night 1 meant an early bed time on night 2 & decent sleep thanks to a room switch. 
I didn’t hear the news until the following morning. As soon as I woke, I walked out & 4 different family members told me in a matter of 5 mins. The casa owner told me first, 30 secs after I walked out of my room. He looked crushed, like his favorite uncle died. I said I was sorry for your loss. He thanked me & grabbed & held my hand. He seemed upset. 
I got dressed & re-watched the Raul announcement on local Cuban state tv over breakfast & couldn’t get out of the casa fast enough, heading directly to Parque Vidal. First off, FAR more people at 10am than the prior day. But I got a sense of general uncertainty. No real emotions. Two hours later (bc I couldn’t leave… this is the gathering spot of the city & I had a front row view), people seemed to loosen up a bit. I saw a couple people crying (& overheard “it’s like my father died”) & a few handshakes amongst older men w perhaps a hint of a smile but maybe that was my imagination. Most were still very somber & reserved. I’m sure Cuban-Americans were celebrating but there were absolutely no celebrations here. I hesitantly asked my casa owner’s 2 daughters & son-in-law what they thought his death would mean for Cuba. Cubans consider Fidel part of the family, he loves Cuba, fights for them against the big US (which many don’t seem to like so he had very effective messaging) & everyone feels connected to him in some way or another so the whole country will grieve his loss. One daughter replied that she doesn’t expect anything to change as he hasn’t been in charge for 10 years. These were very similar sentiments I heard as the week progressed from all Cubans regardless of age, sex, job, etc. Cubans young & old were very sad, I’m guessing a very different message vs the US media machine. Have people been jailed here for talking shit about the government? Sure, just like many other countries currently ruled by dictators. But it’s clear this feeling of loss is not the result of fear.
I felt so blessed to actually be in Cuba seeing the reaction first-hand in a city that really fucking matters. Did I say I was in Santa Clara? Two different Cuban casa owners groaned when I said I was going to Santa Clara, saying “there’s nothing to do but the Che mausoleum & the train thing”. From everything I’ve read about Cuba over the years, SC was prominent in its revolutionary history. Che orchestrated maybe the coolest & certainly the most decisive take down of Bautista, when he & 18 teenagers took down Bautista’s army of hundreds on train tracks using a borrowed bulldozer, forcing the surrender immediately thereafter thus giving Fidel’s revolutionaries the victory. Fidel gave his victory speech in Santiago de Cuba the next day & then made a victory run to Havana, swinging through all of the crucial cities over the route.
Therefore SC is Che’s city – it’s devoted to him – multiple statues, museums, monuments & since his death & recovery of his remains from Bolivia, his mausoleum. The locals be damned, I was going. Thankfully I listened to my gut bc there was no better place to be when THE news came down. Now it seemed very fitting that the day of Fidel’s death, I walked 3km out to Che’s official memorial, museum & mausoleum where Fidel gave a speech in ’97 lighting his eternal flame when his remains were interred after being found in a secret Bolivian mass grave w the 37 others captured & then immediately executed courtesy of the CIA. Spooky almost. I think I tend to have pretty good timing, but this was impeccable. 
My casa owner shared w me the state newspaper, the Granma (named after the boat that brought Fidel, Che & Raul to Cuba to start the revolution – 3 of the 12 out of 80+ that survived the initial landing), which was wholly focused on Fidel & despite only being 8 pages, it took me 2 hours to read. Thanks shitty Spanish. The owner was laughing at me. But I think I eventually understood most of it. It just took me awhile bc there were a lot of words I didn’t know (he was no help… his accent is brutal & speaks zero English) so I re-read many sentences to try to glean context. So I know what’s going on. For the most part. I was going to ask if I could perhaps keep it but he seemed to be keeping a close eye on it. I learned there’s a period of mourning over the next 9 days during which state radio and television will broadcast patriotic and historical programming before his funeral in Santiago de Cuba on Sun Dec 4. There’s a big ceremony in Havana on Tues in revolution park where I visited. Then his ashes will caravan from Havana to Santiago, taking the same reverse route he took after his victory speech in 1959, before a similar ceremony on Dec 3 in Santiago & his burial on the 4th. I’m going to do my best to be there. 
More importantly, as far as I’m concerned, is this period of mourning which apparently means no music, no party, no alcohol for 9 days. I heard rumors all restaurants & bars would be closed. Given I have nearly 1.5 weeks left in Cuba, I really hoped that would not be the case bc I may starve & be bored to death. A bit worried, I asked my casa owner but he said while they did that in the past for other revolutionary deaths, that was when everything was state owned & now there are many privately own businesses that can make their own decision. For a late lunch, I was not allowed to order a beer but they inexplicably allowed me to order a mojito instead so perhaps people are still feeling things out. My dinner that night was status quo – good food & any drink on the menu. But that was night one. In the days since, I’ve sorted out that state run places have closed (fine, as I tried to stick to privately owned joints), private run restaurants have chosen to remain open but not serve alcohol (although some will serve beer or wine but no mixed drinks) & private run bars have closed. 
But there’s one thing that’s clear. There is no music. None. Anywhere. Passing people’s homes yesterday, opened doors revealed music & laughter. Today, each house seems to be tuned to state-run tv & radio that is perpetually replaying Raul Castro’s speech last night as well as reporting on global reactions (or at least those Granma wishes to report upon). My plan for the first night of mourning had been to attend Cuba’s only official drag show & potentially become a groupie of this really cool band. Of course neither happened. Just to be sure, I swung by Club Menjune & even that liberal hotbed teeming w hippies the day prior was lights out, doors locked. Just the city itself had changed so much, especially at night. The night prior, the square was packed w people socializing & now the streets were eerily quiet, everyone was home & really mourning. 
The music I’m going to miss. A lot. I can’t imagine having visited Havana, Cienfuegos or Trinidad without music as it’s such a massive part of the everyday lifestyle. So again, I felt lucky to be in Cuba to experience this historic event & luckier that his passing happened at this point in my trip. 

The day after Fidel died, note all the flags at half mast




Cozy & quaint Cienfuegos

Volcano Choir’s Repave album, Tame Impala’s Lonerism, Purity Ring’s Shrines & Polica’s Shulasmith got me through the 5-hr early morning bus trip from Varadero to Cienfuegos. I don’t think the musical build was coincidental as I was becoming increasingly excited to get the hell off the bus. 
I arrived at Cienfuegos around lunch & for CUC$3, I agreed to a taxi to my casa. Thank goodness Carlos was my driver as he was a lifesaver given the casa’s address & map location on Airbnb was not at all correct. After helping me search the supposed intersection for the casa with no success, Carlos offered to use his mobile to call (Cubans are charged per call) as I had the phone number of the owner w no working mobile. No answer but being a capable taxi driver, Carlos actually had the owner’s info saved in his phone, complete w the correct address so he happily took me the remaining 6 blocks. And refused to accept more than CUC$3. Most taxi drivers would’ve dropped me with no second thought so bless Carlos bc he saved me hours of lost time. He’s agreed to scoop me on my return trip to the bus station so I look forward to thanking him again. Sweet & helpful Cuban people keep impressing me everyday. 
Cienfuegos felt a bit more international than what I’d seen to-date in Cuba – almost Parisian in a sense w colonnaded boulevards & columned buildings. It has a nice city center w a grand square where locals congregate as well as its own Malecon along the bay – a mini version of Havana’s – that leads to a lovely inlet called Punta Gorda. The small city size makes it very accessible so I spent a lazy 3 days roaming around, relaxing, reading, eating & listening to live music. The food here seems especially delicious so given its size, I think perhaps better food per capita than Havana bc while I found great success in Havana w a couple spots, I also had some pretty average meals. No average meals in Cienfuegos. 
While enjoying a lunch, I thought about the bus ride here. Very few people got off the Trinidad-bound bus to first visit Cienfuegos. Trinidad, after Havana of course & Varadero for the beach, is probably the trendiest place to visit in Cuba if people can fit in it their schedules & aren’t afraid of buses or wish to splurge on private cars. But boy are they missing a gem in Cienfuegos. Once again, I feel very blessed to be able to take this time & an entire month to visit Cuba as I am thrilled to have discovered this beautiful city. 




You see these relics everywhere & they’re typically being used bc mobile service here is still expensive for Cubans. Despite its simplicity, I think this is one of my fave pix of the trip so far.




I wish all palaces were like Palacio Valle. No entrance fee. No focus on big old furniture & mirrors & shiny things that you really don’t give a shit about but you pretend to bc its history you just paid to visit. Rather, they turned the interior into what seemed to be a very nice restaurant w terraces opened & overlooking the bay & a tiny little bar on the rooftop w stunning views & cheap local Cristal beers. For whatever reason, few folks were there so I snagged a table w a grand view & enjoyed some Cristal.

Play-by-play of Fidel’s Havana tribute ceremony

His Havana ceremony started at 7pm Tues night. I watched it on Cuban national tv in my room. I had visited Revolution Plaza when in Havana & now it looked a bit different as 100k plus packed the main park. It was supposedly real difficult for any regular locals to get in the massive square bc of reserved sections for people (family, friends, government, military, VIPs, etc). One side was entirely blocked off for security, police & transport for dignitaries & VIPs. The 4 other main thoroughfares that lead into the park were open to the public. They showed the main boulevard on tv & that was jammed too as far as the lights shined.
The ceremony proceeded w the following speakers:

– Great moving female poet started the ceremony – giving one of her clearly famous poems about Cuba & Fidel bc the crowd knew it – & it was lengthy.

– President of Ecuador

– President of South Africa

– Prime minister of Dominica

– President of El Salvador

– Prime minster of Greece

– President of Argella. Of what?!?! OK, THIS HAS BEEN GOING ON FOR 1.5 HRS & I’m starving. Time for a break & some food.

– ??? (After an hour away filling my belly & having some wine…)

– Qatar rep

– Belarus rep

– Now I’m just so interested to see who is coming next bc this is just absurd. I know for a fact the Mexican president is there as I watched him deplane at Havana airport on the news before the ceremony started. So that’s probably the biggest name I’m aware of that hasn’t yet spoken. Then Raul I’m assuming.

– It’s real interesting bc after every speech ends, the orator approaches Raul w a hug &/or handshake and Raul, to every single one, graciously responds & then turns to introduce him/her to the dude sitting right next to him. Younger guy. Mustache. I have no idea who it is but I do know Raul has said (before Fidel’s passing) that he intended to step down in 2018. They haven’t announced succession plans which isn’t really a shock but this makes me think they’re grooming someone as he’s being introduced to all heads of state.

– President of Bolivia (to biggest cheers I’ve seen & he’s eating it up; he knows how to rile them up; crowd favorite)

– President of Venezuela

– … (I left again. Too antsy. Had to get out.)

– Returned 3.5 hrs into the ceremony just as the closer Raul Castro was being introduced.
I got an email the next day from my Havana casa owner letting me know just how crazy it was (so he heard from folks who attended or tried to attend the ceremony bc he watched from the comfort of his home). Few common folk made the main square. Those that did were lined up at midnight the night before & were there for 24 hours. The crowds supposedly extended far beyond the lights. People couldn’t get close. Took hours to get home. Of course it was worth it to them but my casa owner was issuing me a warning for the Santiago evening ceremony & early morning funeral. He didn’t think I’d be able to get remotely close & suggested it wouldn’t be a good use of time & questioned whether I’d enjoy it. While watching the Havana ceremony, I came to that very same conclusion. Which allows me to avoid one issue… while I was able to secure bus tix the day after his death, I was not so lucky to secure lodging. Not a single hotel room in the city available. I booked a room in a casa via Airbnb which was subsequently canceled by the owner the following day. While over 100 casas were available on Airbnb the day prior, less than 10 on Monday & online reservations were now not working. I used multiple Cuba casa websites to inquire about availability. Nothing. My Havana casa owner has 3 friends w casas. Nothing. His friends decided to block out the rooms & not take clients as they figured the city would be too crazy to host, it frees them up to leave the house & they were also hosting friends & family from other parts of Cuba. Hotels were blocked by govt for VIPs. After giving up Tuesday & not thinking it wise to show up wo accommodations, I have resigned myself to the fact I would probably have to miss it and I’ve accepted it. I feel lucky that I’ve been here & able to talk to locals about it to get their viewpoint. That’s enough for me. And now that I’ve accepted it, I do have to laugh at myself. I was really trying to make it happen. I thought I just had to be there. I never stopped to consider how impossible it’d be to attend a former US President’s funeral & this puts that to shame given the length of his rule, his revolutionary history & his enormous personality.
Add to that the fact that I couldn’t even make it through a ceremony on tv without taking food, drink & bio breaks. There’s no way I could make it through an actual live ceremony. My fave speakers (sarcasm) were those that were non-English speaking foreigners so not only did I have to listen to their original Arabic, Greek, etc but then try to decipher the Spanish translation – so I don’t understand much of what they say even after hearing it twice.
As an aside, while watching the ceremony, I flipped to CNN to see if US media had any access at all or were reporting on it. Nothing. The CNN lead was “Trump wants flag burners to lose citizenship or go to jail.” Seems like nothing’s changed. That moron seriously wants to take away constitutionally protected freedom of speech rights under the first amendment? I thought he was a staunch defender of the constitution? Oh wait. That must only be the 2nd amendment. Some could interpret that as pretty dictatorial. Or he’s just trying to distract from yesterday’s hot topic. I’m not really sure how I’m going to get through the next 4 years.


Santa Clara BEFORE the world changed

After a day of touring Santa Clara, I found myself on Friday Nov 25 in the early evening sitting in the town’s massive square, Parque Vidal, writing down my thoughts on the city & its people in my stream of consciousness methodology. As I was rereading them for purposes of writing a blog post describing my observances since Fidel’s passing, I noted that while I’m sure they may seem unimportant at face value, they seemed very relevant & poignant to me given the changes that happened overnight. For purposes of remembering this historic time in years to come, I think I’ll present it here as things unfolded for me in Cuba.

 
A 9pm arrival in Santa Clara could’ve been much later due to a broken down bus were in not for a handy group of 4-5 Cubans huddled at the back of the bus fixing this smoking engine in just under an hour. If anyone can fix vehicles, it’s the Cubans right? After foiling a plan by a couple jineteros to scam me on the way to my casa, my casa owner directed me to a great restaurant. Well the food was good but the best thing about this place was the hired band they had playing. After sitting down w only 2 other tables filled, they played almost-acoustic versions of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah followed by Michael Jackson’s What About Us!!?!!!? Then they played a medley that featured about 10 songs from Stand By Me & Hey Jude to finally some fun Cuban music. They put their own twist on everything. It may sound silly, but I’ve been hearing the same traditional 3 Latin songs from every band I come across in restaurants & outside in tourist locales which is several times throughout the day bc music is so central to the way of life down here. They play them the same way & it’s just become less & less interesting. These guys have a fresh unique take on everything & just given the song choices, they had me so they wrote down where they play for the next 3 days bc depending on what else is going on, I may become a stalker. In Havana & Cienfuegos, I had a lot of success finding good music but it was generally late night spots known for music & frequented by a mix of locals & tourists. The music here has been maybe my favorite part of the trip so I really look forward to seeing this band again. 
Returning after dinner, the city center was empty but for pockets of young people looking to be heading out for the night. While it was dark, I could tell these young people looked different. They seemed to be hipsters. I hadn’t yet seen that pocket of people in Cuba. This morning while re-reading my travel guide on Santa Clara, I was reminded per LP that this is the “edgiest city in Cuba”. Roaming about town today confirmed it. Near my casa is the central Parque Vidal, the city’s massive city plaza, & it is hipster central. My oddly colored hair that captivates everyone else is no big deal here. Half of the park seems reserved for “normal” folk lazing about & gossiping. The other half features various pockets of different types of hipsters congregating in certain corners. The goths wearing black Megadeth & Iron Maiden vintage tees w dark eye liner, tattoos & crazy piercings huddle on one side drinking the local Bucanero beers at all hours (I must not be cool as I’ve been drinking Cristal). They must bond solely on a love of rock & black tees as I also saw Nirvana, Beatles & AC/DC tees mingling. The punk rock spiked mohawks, colored Ramones tees, studded jean vests & bandana wearing crowd gathers in another area. The guitar playing traditional hippies seem to have teamed up with the beanie wearing dreaded reggae fans. At any point in time, I almost expect a musical street battle a la West Side Story to break out. Yes, I watched for hours while reading & jotting down notes. I would’ve loved to get pics but they would never have captured my intrigue & would only serve to make me look like a narc. 
A couple hours later, I ended up w a few of these hipsters at Club Menjune, this hippy joint I walked past earlier & this dude grabbed me & invited me to this poetry reading. Why not? I hadn’t yet been to a poetry reading in Cuba. I found out the next night they were hosting “Cuba’s only official drag show”. Umm why wouldn’t I go?!?! Actually, the friend of my Havana casa owner, whom himself owns several Havana casas & does quite well, said as recently as 5 years ago, being LG was very frowned upon in Cuba, as of today it is generally accepted, & he joked that in 5 years, it would be compulsory. Trans, less so. Which is why I wasn’t at all surprised to find out the edgy, welcoming, liberal & open Santa Clara featured THE show in Cuba.
Overall thoughts on first 1.5 days in Santa Clara – I walked a lot today. Covered the main Che memorial, museum & mausoleum – biggest thing to see in SC. It dawned on me that while I’ve taken photos of tourist monuments, I haven’t really taken many photos of the city itself. Maybe bc it’s just not very picturesque. But I really wanted to come here to visit. My Havana & Trinidad casa owners told me to skip it or limit the visit to 1 night max. I refused to listen. While it may not be a picturesque city, there’s so much revolutionary history here, including the key battle in Fidel’s revolution, & I can be a big history nerd. I’m pleased & not that surprised to see the same city w such a massive revolutionary history feature citizens of such a diverse nature. I like the feel of this city. 




Counterfeit Cubans

Apparently there is an increasingly significant issue when it comes to counterfeit Cuban cigars. Factory workers steal them right from the lines. Official retail store workers swap out real cigars for fake ones & sell them to unsuspecting tourists along w a bullshit CUC$40 “handling fee” the workers pocket. All to sell on the black market. Due to its brand recognition & popularity among tourists, Cohiba is apparently the worst – making it difficult to even get consistently high quality cigars on the black market. Monte Cristos are next. While I’m no cigar aficionado, I wanted to pick some up for a friend so I asked my casa owner & the tapas resto owner where to go. They both use the same black market guy located in the hood in el centro Habana. Even at 10:30 in the morning, I don’t think I’d make the 20 minute walk on my own & the guy would certainly not trust me. So my casa owner gladly accompanied me to this shady dude’s real nice house in the ghetto where he put on a fairly formal presentation, displaying all of his goods on a velour cloth covering his kitchen table. My casa owner then walked me through all the steps to evaluate the various cigars & I settled upon Romeo y Julieta, the most popular brand amongst local wealthy Cubans who are in the know bc they aren’t quite as popular w tourists so quality is better. And boy did I get a deal bc the government retailers will sell them for CUC$13-15 per stick while I got them for CUC$8. So now I feel pretty confident buying a product that I’ll never personally use. But the experience was pretty amazing.  

To the beach… Varadero

A straightforward & uneventful 3-hour bus ride from Havana is Varadero… a 20km stretch of white sand beach that according to the travel guides, is supposedly Cuba’s most beautiful beach. Clearly the word is out amongst European & Canadian travelers, but given the superlatives used to describe it, I felt I had to see it. It did not disappoint. I enjoyed some much needed R&R after long Havana nights. 






Hemingway’s Havana

Prior to leaving Chicago & despite a slight feeling of betrayal, I loaded my kindle w Hemingway books that lay heavily worn in tatters, w circled & underlined passages & dogeared pages, crammed into the bookshelf my dad made me as I’ve read them many times over. Perhaps it’s a bit cliche, but it felt pretty good re-reading The Old Man and the Sea as I visited Cojimar, a tiny little fishing village that was home to Ernie’s fishing boat, Pilar, as well as his friend & the village on which the story is based. I have a long lasting love affair w his work which means I also felt his home on a hill outside Havana was a must-see (where Ava Gardner, on whom I recall my dad having a bit of a crush, scandalously swam naked in his pool) along w the Havana hotel in which he holed up writing For Whom the Bell Tolls and countless bars he frequented, including the one where he popularized the daiquiri &, in a record that still holds, he took down 13 doubles in one sitting. What an animal. I like his Havana. 

Cojimar

His fave Cojimar bar
Pilar
This is his office in the home he lived in for 20+ yrs until he moved back to the states in 1960, one year before he ended his life. It remains a snapshot in time as he left everything as is as a gift to the Cuban people. So now it’s a museum. You’re not allowed inside; however, the doors & windows are fully propped open so you can walk around the surrounding terrace & peek in to get a glimpse of his life.
Having a beer at the hotel bar where he wrote maybe most famous novel

Vinales day trip & hired-taxi-ride-of-a-lifetime (hopefully)

I opted to take a day trip from Havana to Vinales, a tiny town west of Havana surrounded by lush hilly limestone terrain offering great hiking, an incredible cave system & the world’s best tobacco growing. The rest of my trip was taking me east but I was convinced I needed to see the region after flying over it prior to landing in Havana… the terrain looked incredibly different than what I ever imagined Cuba to look like (& much different than Havana). 
My casa owner arranged for one of his trusted regular personal drivers to take me to Vinales. Eduardo knows the area very well & has taken the trip weekly w other casa guests. Eduardo arrived at 8 & just to make sure we’re on the same page, we sat w the owner to map out an itinerary prior to leaving as Eduardo speaks zero English. He seemed friendly & funny & when I left, I felt very comfortable & excited about the day. 
The first snafu happened 5 minutes after leaving when Eduardo indicated he forgot his wallet at home so we first had to go to outer Havana to pick it up. Fine, I forget things all the time. A half hour later, we finally began our journey. We chitchat about our lives & Havana & things are going great. He teaches me words in Spanish & I teach him words in English. The beginning of the route was small city streets & Eduardo seemed to be a very capable driver. About an hour into the 2.5hr trip, we hit the autopista, a 6-lane highway w not much traffic. Thankfully not much traffic. Because it was only then after 15 minutes or so that I started noticing Eduardo weaving across our 3 lanes of traffic. There were no other cars around & the roads were in the worst shape I’d ever seen, riddled w major potholes, so I thought perhaps he was trying to avoid them. And then he hit a rather large pothole dead-on that rattled his old 1970s car. And another one. WTF? I couldn’t see his eyes bc they were hidden behind huge sunglasses. I asked him if he was ok, perhaps a bit tired? Oh he’s ok but yes, perhaps a bit tired bc he was out w friends until 3:30am & then had to get up at 7. Uh oh. I suggested we continue talking bc that seemed to keep him awake before. He couldn’t hold a conversation. I asked him to play music so we seat-danced for a couple minutes before he tired of that. Immediately thereafter, a large tour bus approached us from the left rear. Eduardo didn’t see him coming & was in fact weaving in front of him so I gently suggested he move to the right. Then another car approached from the right, honking madly for him to get out of the way. He didn’t hear him until I said so. Three strikes & you’re out & during one of his next weaves, he picked up speed & I thought was headed straight off the road. So I really yelled at him. It’s pretty amazing how quickly I picked up Spanish swear words & proficiently & appropriately used them here. I told him he was a drunk & falling asleep, he was endangering both of our lives, he needs sleep & a lot of coffee. After my tirade, he was quiet & then sheepishly admitted I was right and stunningly, asked if I would be willing to drive. At this point, we were 1.5 hours into the trip & I didn’t trust him to drive us back to Havana so for fear of my life & a desire to still see Vinales, I agreed, still somewhat dumbfounded. We pulled over, switched seats, I got comfortable w some of the car’s “uniqueness”, & we were off. I asked him what signs I should follow… “Pinar del Rio”, which I knew from my travel book, & w that we were off, w Eduardo passed out beside me, unmoving. One must adapt when traveling right? We seemed better. 
Until 30 minutes later when la policia pulled us over. I was certainly not speeding so I think it was a random thing. Thankfully I, for some unknown reason, brought w me my passport & US drivers license. As I was frantically trying to wake Eduardo from his slumber, I was handing my documents over to the cop. Eduardo was barely awake at this point & despite the fact he just stopped to pick up his wallet, he was unable to locate his documents. On a whim, I explained to the cop w a laugh & a gesture, in an attempt to continue the trip, that the lush in the passenger seat was my stupid, drunk boyfriend. Those seconds awaiting his response were torturous as I considered the possibility I’d end up in a Cuban prison, but thankfully he laughed too, returned my documents & waved us on our way. I knew I saved Eduardo’s ass but I didn’t know to what extent until later as apparently it’s illegal for tourists to drive locals’ cars (designated by certain license plates) so the cop could very well have immediately impounded the car & thrown Eduardo in jail w massive fines (I’m told no repercussions for me, although I’d be stuck in the middle of nowhere w no way to return to Havana). You’re welcome, Eduardo. 
I kept following signs for Pinar del Rio. And after an hour more of driving, kept trying to wake Eduardo. I felt as if we were heading in the right direction so no need to panic. Then he awoke, after 1.5 hrs of my driving, exclaiming we should’ve exited an hour ago… right around the time the police pulled us over. Great. I exit & follow his instructions to take a now not-so-direct route to Vinales. Oh well. We made it to stop one & he seemed markedly better.. no longer drunk but certainly tired. At my orders, while I toured & hiked the site, he was to down significant amounts of coffee. 
That’s how our day continued. He rebounded quite well & took back the driving, which was great bc that’s what I was fucking paying him to do. I refused to be angry at him as I didn’t want that negative energy ruining my day so we returned to our fun banter. When sober & awake, he actually did a really great job as a tour guide, explaining details & history. We toured the lovely Vinales until about 5pm, a bit later than normal perhaps, given our trip there took an extra hour or so. 
And then we returned to Havana. All was going swimmingly until an hour into the trip. He asked me if I would drive again. I yelled at him as this time, he wasn’t drunk, he was just tired & incompetent. I hired him to drive & he needed to drive so I refused. I started watching him closely & found that since he wasn’t now wearing his sunglasses, he couldn’t hide the fact that his eyes were closing again. Perfect. 15 minutes passed & it was now dusk & he asked again if I would drive. To make it back alive, I once again agreed while that mf slept next to me. The closer we got to Havana, the more traffic appeared & the darker it became, while his old car’s lights on unfamiliar roads w no help whatsoever from Eduardo made for a more difficult drive than desired. Again, Eduardo had trouble waking up. The signs entering Havana were pretty clear so while waking him, I still felt ok driving. And then the signs immediately became unclear & all of a sudden, there were 5 police cars in the center of the road forcing me to decide right or left. I decided left & apparently decided wrong. My 3 lanes disappeared almost immediately & turned into a tiny 1-lane road w no lights & I came to a screeching halt alongside in the tumble weeds, all the while screaming at Eduardo. That finally awoke him, laughing & saying “oh that’s ok angela, we are in XXX in Havana & you just need to go right”. I lost it. Screamed I’m not fucking driving anymore. Got out of the driver’s side & slammed the door. He chuckled, agreed & dropped me at my casa in 15 minutes. 
Somehow throughout this entire ordeal, Eduardo came to believe we were truly friends & I was just helping him out as a friend would do in similar circumstances. What he seemed to forget was that I was paying him to provide a service that he most certainly didn’t provide. So he truly seemed genuinely shocked when I stiffed him on his payment, even after explaining why. The casa owner apologized endlessly, fired him as his regular driver & covered the cost of his fuel & time for the trip. Since I made it back alive, I reflected that I did actually enjoy Vinales & the trip story was in fact a pretty great one. One that I hope to never repeat.