I honestly did not think I would be such a fan of Cuba. If you are a regular reader of this blog, you know I get excited about travel. The next foreign place I go that I don't like will be the first place I do that I don't like.
But I do think Cuba is special. . .and I think it is on the brink of coming out of communism and providing more opportunity for her people, which means more freedom and more choice. We felt completely welcomed by the people.
The architecture, the natural beauty, the beaches of Varadero, the old American cars of Havana, there IS romance to it all -- Hemingway, the Spanish forts, the arches, the plazas, the paradars.
Typically we do trip favorites, but with only two of the five Bolgers on this trip, I may skip that, although don't be surprised if I add it on tomorrow. We've been back a week (two days in the Florida Keys, work, Christmas events, and sports have slowed down the finishing of the blog), and I definitely can not wait to go back.
Havana is my new favorite city in the Western Hemisphere, and that's saying a lot. We covered a lot of ground, and yet there is still much more to see. The excitement of what awaited around each corner is great feeling to have in life, and it's one we had quite often in Havana.
If you're just a traveler on this earth, go to Cuba.
Friday, December 23, 2016
Fabrica de Arte Cubano
So i read about this funky modern art place on Trip Advisor, and I figured it was worth a go. Turns out Charlie Cook had been there the last time he was in Cuba (happy ending -- he liked the art there this time a LOT more).
It was open Thursday-Sunday from 8pm to 2am (we weren't staying that late), had tapas and a bar, and often had live music (but not till later in the evening, as it turns out). Unlike the art museum, this art captured my fancy. We wandered through the small rooms, finding colorful art that delighted the sense. Having a cold cerveza helps to loosen the vibe.
Really, I'm going to let the art tell the story:
It was open Thursday-Sunday from 8pm to 2am (we weren't staying that late), had tapas and a bar, and often had live music (but not till later in the evening, as it turns out). Unlike the art museum, this art captured my fancy. We wandered through the small rooms, finding colorful art that delighted the sense. Having a cold cerveza helps to loosen the vibe.
Really, I'm going to let the art tell the story:
Putting your own interpretation is "key"
to understanding this piece. (Get it?)
There were probably eight different colors to this.
I worked to spare the readers pictures of all.
Charlie and Lucy Cook
The art of art interpretation, by
the famed Charlie Cook. First,
open a beer. Drink. Tilt head.
Understand.
This is both colorful and cool.
Fabrica de Arte Cubano (FAC for short) is quite a cool place, which means that, for going there, I'm super cool too. (Don't worry friends, the coolness quotient has worn off, and I'm back to being me.)
We then popped next door to yet another cool paradar, el Cocinero (also in the Vedado neighborhood, but far from the Hotel Nacional). We ate outside, next to the smokestack that defines the place.
Lobster again! And the rest of the food was great, as was the wine. Very funky place, and it was a great way to end our trip to Cuba. If you were to tell me before the trip we wouldn't have a bad meal in Cuba, I would not have believed you. In fact, most of the meals were not just good, but great. An American in Havana would do well to have dinner everywhere we did.
After getting back to the hotel, we retired immediately, as we would be up and out early the next morning.
After spending what we had left in CUCs at Duty Free on Cuban coffee, cigars, and cookies, we didn't have much left. But, we did buy dry ham sandwiches for breakfast, making it the one bad meal we had in Cuba. Airport food -- figures!
Cuba out. And no, I haven't had lobster since we returned from there!
The Malecon
We were coming to the end of time in Cuba, and the one thing we hadn't done that I believe is a must was walk the Malecon (pronounced, well, depending on who you talk to).
We didn't want to do it at the end of our time in the Cuban Art museum -- we were worn to a nub, and it was still pretty hot. (Our decision was reinforced by Paul's perspective later that night at dinner, which was that it too darn hot while the sun was up).
So, we had our chocolate ice cream and sparkling water at the cafeteria (when we showed up, the workers immediately started putting our snack together for us!), and chilled in the room for a bit.
Then we walked from the hotel down to the Malecon. The sun was still going down, and the broad sidewalks of the Malecon were starting to fill up with people, including musicians, lovers, and friends. There was no threat or danger -- just relaxed walking along and looking at the ocean, El Morro, and back toward/past the hotel.
I got a pretty shot of a trumpet player on the sea wall as it was getting dark (see below). There would have been more people if we waited even longer to go out, but it was a relaxed vibe -- we probably walked a half mile or so before turning back.
We didn't want to do it at the end of our time in the Cuban Art museum -- we were worn to a nub, and it was still pretty hot. (Our decision was reinforced by Paul's perspective later that night at dinner, which was that it too darn hot while the sun was up).
So, we had our chocolate ice cream and sparkling water at the cafeteria (when we showed up, the workers immediately started putting our snack together for us!), and chilled in the room for a bit.
Then we walked from the hotel down to the Malecon. The sun was still going down, and the broad sidewalks of the Malecon were starting to fill up with people, including musicians, lovers, and friends. There was no threat or danger -- just relaxed walking along and looking at the ocean, El Morro, and back toward/past the hotel.
I got a pretty shot of a trumpet player on the sea wall as it was getting dark (see below). There would have been more people if we waited even longer to go out, but it was a relaxed vibe -- we probably walked a half mile or so before turning back.
Proof the El Morro lighthouse works
Late into the sunset. The two towers are the Hotel.
Cool shot here.
Tourist Art and Cuban Art
We actually had the cabby take us to the huge art/craftsmen warehouse just on the outskirts of old Havana. I have to believe these are not government workers, but capitalists using their skills to make some money.
The place had been pointed out to us twice, and Carol wanted to get some souvenirs for the girls. The place is huge! Imagine a big, empty warehouse, then fill it with small stalls of people selling artwork, craft goods, clothes, handmade toys, etc.
The art was. . .well, I'm not sure what. Most of it was brightly colored paintings of Havana street scenes, with cars from the 1950s. It's great if you have a place in the tropics, but we didn't buy any because, well, it's not exactly our style.
We wandered around in a bit of a daze (I'm not a shopper, and Carol is not much of one either), before I gave Carol the 15 minute ultimatum. She buckled down and found something for each of the girls -- earrings and a bracelet for Julia, a stylistic beach cover-up for Maddy, and pretty sandals for Torie.
And then we got out. I'm glad we went, but. . .no need to stay long!
So then we walked from the art/craft warehouse to the museum of Cuban art -- it was quite a long walk. We went past the Orthodox Church (and into it).
Obispo Street was packed -- people crowded it, going into shops, businesses, or just wandering around. Walking on such a crowded street slowed us down, but we were fine with it -- the liveliness of the blocks gave off such a good vibe. At one point, we stopped and bought water, and at another we bought an unusual Cuban ice cream sandwich. The cookie part of the sandwich looked cheap and unappetizing, but tasted great. Definitely exceeded expectations.
It was a choice between the museum of the revolution and the Cuban art museum. We figured we could save the museum of the revolution for our next trip.
The art museum was a beautiful building, and the art was hit or miss. Of the art we saw -- numerous periods on multiple floors, I actually preferred the post World War II work to the earlier work. I'd say about 10% of the art made me stop and look at more detail, but I don't appreciate art the way some folks do.
Exhausted, we caught a cab back to the hotel.
The place had been pointed out to us twice, and Carol wanted to get some souvenirs for the girls. The place is huge! Imagine a big, empty warehouse, then fill it with small stalls of people selling artwork, craft goods, clothes, handmade toys, etc.
The art was. . .well, I'm not sure what. Most of it was brightly colored paintings of Havana street scenes, with cars from the 1950s. It's great if you have a place in the tropics, but we didn't buy any because, well, it's not exactly our style.
We wandered around in a bit of a daze (I'm not a shopper, and Carol is not much of one either), before I gave Carol the 15 minute ultimatum. She buckled down and found something for each of the girls -- earrings and a bracelet for Julia, a stylistic beach cover-up for Maddy, and pretty sandals for Torie.
And then we got out. I'm glad we went, but. . .no need to stay long!
So then we walked from the art/craft warehouse to the museum of Cuban art -- it was quite a long walk. We went past the Orthodox Church (and into it).
If this seems unorthodox to
you, you are wrong about it.
Then we continued on to Plaza de San Francisco de la Asis, before heading down Obispo Street.
Random views of our walk through Havana
I suppose I will never have a
mailbox that is this amazing!
It was a choice between the museum of the revolution and the Cuban art museum. We figured we could save the museum of the revolution for our next trip.
The art museum was a beautiful building, and the art was hit or miss. Of the art we saw -- numerous periods on multiple floors, I actually preferred the post World War II work to the earlier work. I'd say about 10% of the art made me stop and look at more detail, but I don't appreciate art the way some folks do.
Exhausted, we caught a cab back to the hotel.
It's A Grifter's Life
Well, neither of us had a good feeling about the guy from the start, but neither of us did anything about it. Oh, it's not like he was a problem -- in fact, part of it was interesting, until it got awkward.
We came out of the low exit of El Morro and headed to a nearby restaurant that received positive comments from the people at the Hotel Nacional, and our cab driver of the previous day.
A Cuba fellow -- early 30s would be my guess -- came up to us and engaged us in conversation. When he found out Carol spoke decent Spanish, he engaged her in conversation, walking with us to the restaurant -- which of course was either closed for the day, or not open yet, even though it was around noon.
Cuban Flowers in, you know, Cuba
Goats and sheep roadside in Havana
So he offered to walk us to another nearby paradar, talking as we walked. Carol tried to shake him, but our basic politeness (it's a problem -- for people from the Northeast, we can be too nice) didn't allow us to do it.
We finally arrived at the paradar (we walked over eleven miles this day, so a lot of turf was covered). He got us a table, and then joined us. He said he only wanted a beer, but there was so much food on our plates that we allowed him to have some -- which he scarfed down hungrily.
Finally, it was time to go, so he got us a taxi -- we made it clear we were heading back to the hotel to meet some friends (we weren't, yet, but that was our story and we were sticking to it). As he was saying goodbye, he basically told Carol to give him money -- and she did, just to get him gone.
Ah well -- $20 CUCs to a grifter wasn't like a major problem, or a hold-up/crime. It was just something I should have stopped. At first I thought he was interested in talking with an American, but it was obviously more than that.
No harm done, lesson learned.
El Morro, the Key to the City that is Key to the Island that is Key to the Caribbean
Let the record show that Spanish forts in the Caribbean are very cool. No need to lecture me on how the colonialism, neo-colonialism, and post neo-colonialism (I'm pretty sure I just made that third one up!) has been bad for the Caribbean, indeed most of Latin America. I'm not here to judge (you know, unless I want to).
But between the forts in Old San Juan, Puerto Rico, as well as the three that guarded Havana Bay, the forts the Spanish built are dramatic and situated with stunning views of the Atlantic. Havana is the key to Cuba, which is the key to the Caribbean, and that's key to remember! (And to think I was keyed up about going to Cuba!).
Perched high up on a bluff on the eastern side of Havana Bay, El Morro is a jewel to explore as a tourist. The thick stone walls, views of the Atlantic, views across the Havana -- all are stunning. We wandered around the fort, going up and down different levels, inner and outer defenses. Many times we had the section of the fort we were in to ourselves
They had a great display -- with English translations -- of the successful, yet short-lived British invasion (of Cuba, not rock and roll) of 1762, culminating in the Battle of Havana. The Brits returned Havana/Cuba just one year later in the treaty of the Seven Years' War. Defeating the Spanish force at el Morro was crucial to the British victory.
There was also a display dedicated to the explorations of Columbus, with maps and models of his three ships.
But between the forts in Old San Juan, Puerto Rico, as well as the three that guarded Havana Bay, the forts the Spanish built are dramatic and situated with stunning views of the Atlantic. Havana is the key to Cuba, which is the key to the Caribbean, and that's key to remember! (And to think I was keyed up about going to Cuba!).
Perched high up on a bluff on the eastern side of Havana Bay, El Morro is a jewel to explore as a tourist. The thick stone walls, views of the Atlantic, views across the Havana -- all are stunning. We wandered around the fort, going up and down different levels, inner and outer defenses. Many times we had the section of the fort we were in to ourselves
They had a great display -- with English translations -- of the successful, yet short-lived British invasion (of Cuba, not rock and roll) of 1762, culminating in the Battle of Havana. The Brits returned Havana/Cuba just one year later in the treaty of the Seven Years' War. Defeating the Spanish force at el Morro was crucial to the British victory.
There was also a display dedicated to the explorations of Columbus, with maps and models of his three ships.
Everyone assumes the "Elon Phoenix" on
my shirt meant I was from Arizona.
Cannons are a recurring theme in Havana.
This lighthouse continues to operate.
Sweet catamaran
The Memorial to Jose Marti,
far off in the distance.
As we neared the Harbormaster's office, he came out and beckoned us up. He gave us a Spanglish tour of his office, showing the logbooks, the signals, high powered telescope, flags, and messages books. It was very cool (and yes, Carol tipped him). There obviously are not many ships per day in and out of Havana Harbor, otherwise we would not have gotten this tour. He was quite good at it, so it's not like we were the first ones ever to be treated this way. That said, we've never gotten a tour like that before.
(By "tour" -- I mean maybe ten minutes -- but very cool to get to do.)
They could have used Carol's
signaling skills on the Titanic.
The Harbormaster with one of the many flags.
Carol plays "I Spy" -- seriously, great
views of the Havana skyline
No actual logs or communicates were logged or
communicated during the making of this picture.
So, I'm pretty happy with this picture.
The chapel.
Like a limestone fossil
The two small towers of the Hotel Nacional
can be seen right in the middle of this pic.
As it turns out, we only had time to tour one of the three forts -- and El Morro (the Moor -- named after three three Wisemen who visited the Baby Jesus bearing gifts) is the one to hit. Next time in Havana, we'll make to the other two forts.
My Brush With A Cuban Prison
So, we walked along the road from Christo de la Habana to El Morro. To left, there is a display of rockets, guns, and planes that were used in the Bay of Pigs.
On the right of us was a youth military training school, with fences to keep everyone else out. I took a picture of the barracks, with Carol admonishing me (it's how we roll) not to do it. The title of the blog post is fake news -- no one came out demanding my camera, arresting me, or even interrogating me. It was a bit of letdown -- our last chance at an international incident!
(Obviously, a lot of this is tongue in cheek -- had they demanded I delete the photo, I would have immediately.) I would be ten years ago we could not have walked along that street and not been watched. Now, things are changing.
On the right of us was a youth military training school, with fences to keep everyone else out. I took a picture of the barracks, with Carol admonishing me (it's how we roll) not to do it. The title of the blog post is fake news -- no one came out demanding my camera, arresting me, or even interrogating me. It was a bit of letdown -- our last chance at an international incident!
(Obviously, a lot of this is tongue in cheek -- had they demanded I delete the photo, I would have immediately.) I would be ten years ago we could not have walked along that street and not been watched. Now, things are changing.
Cuban military school from the road.
No Americans were bothered in the
taking of this photograph.
Then we veered over to the left side of the road. History is written by the winners, and so it was here -- military hardware used in the Bay of Pigs (or, in some cases not used, otherwise the rockets wouldn't have been in one piece!). The Cuban government kindly had English translations for us, so I could easily read what each weapon did.
(The funny part -- Carol was so intent on translating for me that she didn't realize it was in English, until I started translating in unison with her -- then she figured something wasn't right! And by "funny part" I mean to me, not necessarily to her.)
A little roadside history lesson.
A Soviet MIG
Palm trees and rockets
Wing from the U-2 plane shot down
during the Cuban missile crisis.
Other pieces from the U-2 plane
Not every 1950s car is in perfect shape.
Although still looks pretty good!
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