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We arrived in La Habana (Havana)
by Iberia on Christmas Night. First we tried renting a car, but there weren't any. So we decided to
spend the night and board a Cubana de Aviación plane on the 26th to
Santiago de Cuba.
Because we didn't know better, we booked a night at the Hotel Acuario on the 
Marina
Hemingway, west of the City. At US$120, it was way overpriced. We relaxed with a couple of Cervezas Cristal (Cervezas Claras Conservan Amistades).
The next day, we spent a full six hours in Havana Airport's Terminal 1, waiting for a Russian-built Yakolev 42D of Cubana de Aviación to bring us
to Santiago de Cuba for US$100.
Between
feeling sick and throwing up, we met three great guys from Italy; Marco and Denis from Torino and Dario from Roma. As it turned out, we would be
travelling most of the time with them. One of them has a girlfriend in Santiago and got us some good insider info as well as a couple of Casas Particulares.
We were picked up at
Santiago Airport
by Dignelis and her friend Yurdania. They introduced us to the Cuban custom of greeting
even strangers with
one kiss on the left cheek. Yurdania later confessed that she found Marc and me truly boring, but frankly, after the ordeals of the day, we were hardly in a mood to be entertaining.
Late that night, Dario got us a
Casa Particular at Yvonne's, a charming Abuelita Santiaguera. We had two semi-independent rooms at $17.50 each. This Avenida
Victoriano Garzón flat would be our home base for excursions into the City.
We spent
several nights at the Claqueta
Bar, a somewhat touristy place with live music. Unfortunately, this week it was
traditional afrocuban music instead of Salsa. We noticed the DJ wore a T-Shirt
with the slogan "Die neue Lust - Nichtrauchen". Although this didn't
much keep him from smoking, we started talking and it turned out Ismael had been
to Lausanne for a roller skating contest.
The
next day, Ismael took us to Playa
Juraguà, a not-too-tourist-spoiled beach some 25km outside the city. Our
italian friends had failed to show up at the Claqueta, so the three of us went
ahead and boarded a truck. These are normally not used by travelers, as you
have no idea where they're going and where to change. They charge one peso
(about US$ 0.05).
On one of the
Camiones we met Jenys, an English student on her way to Playa Siboney. Through
much cajolery, Ismael persuaded her to come to Juraguà with us. On the way, we
made much use of roadside Maní and mandarin salesmen.
On the beach, we found our Italians again,
who had come here by Taxi.
After a while a beach boy popped up and offered to make us a full bonefish
dinner for $7. After an hour and a half he returned with Tupperware dishes of
bonefish, rice, salad and plàtanos fritos.
Another day, Denis who's also a diver and I decided to get wet at the Marlin
dive center in Baconao. We hired a minibus to accommodate us all and headed off.
We dropped the others at Playa Verraco and, when the Marlin was closed, went to
the Los Corales
Hotel. It was a nice shallow reef dive and we saw a barracuda, two lobsters
and a white sea cucumber.
After the
dive, we spent some time with the others at the beach. Fooling around with
Yulima, I managed to plant both feet squarely into sea urchins. Marc and Marco
carried me to the minibus and we drove to a clinic to have the pricks removed.
Soon
enough (too soon) we had to board a DC-10 coming in from Paris to get to La
Habana. We were going to surprise our Swiss friends for New Year's Eve (only
Manuela knew we were coming) and Denis and Marco decided to come along.
When
the four of us were comfortably seated in the jointly operated Cubana/AOM
DC-10, the crew phone rang (we sat right next to the crew seat) and the flight
attendant picked it up. When she removed the headset from its socket, there was
such a loud and comically-sounding "SPROING!!!"
that Marc and I couldn't stop laughing tears until about 10 minutes later. 
Hear
it for yourself. The stewardess shot us a few venomous glances. A week
later, we'd still break out in laughter when Marco would imitate the sound.
In
the city we stayed at one of the most expensive hotels, the Habana
Libre (which we had prebooked upon arriving). It later turned out that a Casa
Particular wouldn't just have been ten times cheaper, but also ten times
more fun. Opened in 1959 as a Hilton and subsequently seized by the
Revolutionaries, it is today managed by the Spanish Tryp
chain and conforms to international standards. It's on the Rampa, across from
the Coppelia ice cream parlor (if you've seen Fresa
y Chocolate, you'll know).
The
night of New Year's Eve was spent around the Plaza
de la Catedral. We didn't enter, though, since they were asking $40
(including all you can drink) and there were (obviously) no cubans inside. After
our Swiss friends failed to show up at the Bodeguita
del Medio, we went back to the Habana Libre.
We
had read in the lobby that Manolín,
El Medico De La Salsa, would be playing tonight at the Habana Libre, but
tickets were reportedly $100(!). After much back and forth and a quarrel between
the numerous security officers, we managed to get in for $15 each, which
probably went straight into the officer's pockets. The concert was hot and
intense, but the crowd was a nouveau-riche, cocaine-snorting bunch very unusual
for Cuba.
We
were rejoined with our Swiss friends when we watched their dance
lessons the next day. The setting was an empty shell of a house right on the
Malecón with a terrific view of the Sea. When they whipped up a complicated Rueda
de Casino, Denis, an expert Salsa dancer in his homeland Italy, joined in
spontaneously.
That
night, we tried out the Macumba, a very new disco on the outskirts of Miramar.
The first three Salsas sounded very promising, but from there on it was just
boom-boom-boom. Standard international disco fare. Nevertheless, we had loads of
fun teaching Cubans the Disco Fox.
More
to our style was the Casa de la Musica and other, more Salsa oriented places.
This and some dinners in Paladares (private restaurants) marked the following to
days. We met a Cuban Bicitaxi driver named Hiran who got us around town and to a
covert cigar-buying operation. When he got tired, Marc and I would pedal for him
from the back seats.
Most
of the next day was spent arranging our further travels. The four of us had
originally planned to rent a car and explore the west. Since no cars were
available between Dec 30 and Jan 5 (we asked every day), and we were told the
west was even colder than Havana (which, at 16°C was already too cold for our
tastes), we decided to go south to Trinidad. Marc and I also postponed our Iberia
flights home so we could go to Santiago once more.
The
comfortable Viazúl bus took us to
the colonial town of Trinidad
for $25. Denis and Marco failed to show up at the departure - their taxi driver
had taken them to the wrong bus terminal. In Havana we were asked our names.
When we arrived in Trinidad 5 hours later, there was already a howling crowd
waiting and holding up signs, one of them with our names on it. Apparently the
competition for Casas Particulares is especially fierce in Trinidad.
We
decided to look for one on our own and after being accompanied across town and
back by three different owners, we finally found a nice place at Victor's. The
only other people to share the house with us would move out the next day, so
when (or if) Marco and Denis would turn up, they could move in there. Victor and
his sister were very friendly hosts and we had the best meals in Cuba at their
place. Two more visits to the bus station and, alas, our Italian friends showed
up the next day.
After
a day getting to know the town and another at the Playa Ancón, Denis and I were
ready to go diving again. Victor, who is a sports teacher at the local school,
introduced us to Pedro, a dive instructor. So, the next day for just $25 (incl.
equipment rental), he packed us into a tattered '51 chevy that billowed more
smoke into the cabin than from its exhaust pipes, and we drove off to La Boca.
The
dive was unspectacular, except for the condition of the rental gear. The
buoyancy compensator vest had been repaired several times, the regulator leaked from
the surface all the way to 10m and the fins (luckily I had my own) were mended with aluminum
strips and rivets. Sub aquatic life was standard Caribbean fare, a moray eel
being the only special creature we saw. The Englishmen who went after us claimed
to have seen a hammerhead shark, however.
Night
life in Trinidad consists basically of the Casa de la Trova and the Casa de la
Música, the latter being a very nice place, if only we hadn't been freezing to
death. Both offer fine Salsa music, however, and in a backyard we witnessed an
authentic Cuban musical get-together with grandfathers playing the Conga,
Bongos, Claves, Maracas and Calabasa while the grandmothers were dancing with
(alternative) travelers and children. The other night, we also tried a disco
called "Las Cuevas", actually situated inside a large cave.
On
Jan 9, our good friends Denis and Marco had to go back to Torino, while Marc and
I treated ourselves to another four days in Santiago, to warm up and meet
friends. Magalis, Dario's acquaintance, got us an apartment on the 16th floor of
the Edificio
Turquino, a 17-story high rise near the center. From our rooms we had a
magnificent view of the city.
Of
course we connected with Ismael, Yulima and Yurdania again and had a great time.
Also in Santiago at the time were our Swiss friends. We ran into them on the
street and spent some time with them, too. Soon there was a nightlife crew of
nine, 8 Swiss and Yurdania, who we sometimes had trouble getting into hotels.
Nevertheless, our last night together was a blast with dancing in the top floor
disco of Hotel
Santiago and then dancing and talking all night in the street with Cubans
we'd met.
Since we came for the
warm temperatures, we headed off for another afternoon at the Playa
Juraguà. Together with Yurdania, we also visited the Castillo
El Morro. Another dive - this time with Marisa - rounded off this vacation
quite nicely. While I had to go back to Switzerland (a drop of 30°C in
temperature), Marc attached another two weeks of sun 'n' surf in Guadeloupe to
his trip.
Cuba - I'll be back!*
*...and I was. Three months later!