Photos from the Ferrer Palace

Town Hall, from the 2nd Floor

The Bell Tower at the Cathedral, through

palm trees in Jose Marti Parque.

Rococo scroll work on a balcony.

Eva Peron or Mrs. Iron Tourist?

The Arc de Triomphe, Cuba-style.

Football in the park.  The bench was one of the goals.

Is this just a burned out bus, or a

metaphor for the Cuban government?

Remember, most buildings in Cuba are in bad shape.

An example of the beautiful design of the Palace.

A good look at both towers

of the Cathedral.

A view of the bay.  The long spit of

land that sticks out is Punta Gorda.

One of the few freighters we saw the whole trip.

The views from up top were

spectacular, if a little unsteady!

One last view of the Cathedral.

Riffs on Transportation in Cuba

Crossing the street in Cuba is a pretty sedate affair.  There’s just not that much traffic, and most of it is going slowly, especially the horse-drawn carriages (don’t think of New York City), the bikes, the scooters, and the small motorcycles.  

Crosswalks are for losers.  Whenever the mood strikes you to cross the street, that’s when you go.  Rush hour isn’t.  As a pedestrian, you feel a sense of freedom.  With the increasing number of cell phones in Cuba, I do have to believe there is an increase in the number of pedestrian getting hit as they stare at their screens and walk blindly into the street.

The rough roads have the added “advantage” of slowing traffic down, if only to avoid being swallowed in one of the many potholes that dot the road.  Even when the roads don’t have potholes, they are rough enough that drivers have to go slow.  Interesting fuel conservation strategy.

On a two lane road in the countryside, if one side of the road is rough and the other is relatively recently paved (last 20 years or so), drivers will drive on the wrong, but smoother side of the road if no traffic is coming.  

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining (if I lived there, I suppose I would), but just reporting on my observations.  Frankly, the road conditions didn’t bother me. . .I wasn’t driving.  

Two years ago, I was discouraged from renting a car, so this time I did not even inquire.  It appears car rental is more of thing now. 

Cuban license plates all have a B (government), P (private), or T (tourist), and I actually saw plenty of T plates – not only in Cienfuegos, but also surprising numbers in Havana.  Driving in European cities is not something I dread; it, like driving in Boston or New York, is a challenge to me, a test of my man skills.  You could not pay me to drive in Havana.  (Test me out, send me plenty of money, and I still won’t drive in Havana).

Walking is not totally safe, however, as the sidewalks are in dangerous shape in many places, uneven, broken, or featuring ankle-snapping ruts, you can look up and walk a bit, but you do have to look down at where you are walking.  There is no evenness to sidewalks and streets, I could put my hiking boots to good use.

A lost art in America, hitchhiking is popular in Cuba.  It is popular because it is necessary for many.  I never saw anyone getting a ride, although they must because they keep doing it.  Apparently the busses almost never make their schedules, if they run at all.

I asked our guide in Cienfuegos if he owned a car.  He laughed ruefully.  He would point to a 10 year old, somewhat beaten up used car, and say, “that would cost $40,000.”  Of course, most,if not all, Cubans do not make that much money in a decade, much less a year.  He got around by hitchhiking, as he lives in a small town about 15 kilometers from Cienfuegos.

Transportation in Cuba fascinates me.

A Random Walk Down Paseo del Prado, Cienfuegos

Not every building facade was this

pretty.  But many of them are.

This is a statue to a famous dude.

I have no idea who though.

Not every car in Cuba is from 

the 1950s. Some are even older.

He's carrying a heavy load.

Santa hanging out on a balcony.  There are

actually a surprising number of Christmas

blow-ups -- always on the second floor.

Street art on the Paseo del Prado.

Gives you something to reflect on.

Guy on a balcony.

A Pretty, Yet Pointless Nut & the Third Most Important Fort in Cuba

I had a vague idea of a plan for Monday’s touring – figure out what we saw Sunday, give my three faithful traveling companions some options, and then have the hotel hire us a taxi with air conditioning (Lucy’s one request, and it was quite a reasonable one)!

So, the options were:

1.  Travel the 80 kilometers to Trinidad and spend the day sightseeing there (I had          originally tried to work a day in Trinidad into the plan, but was worried it would be too much travel in a short period of time);
2.  Spend the day at the beach, and maybe see a few sights; or,
3. Go to the Guanaroca Lagoon where flamingos winter, the Botanical Garden of Cienfuegos, and Castillo Jagua – the old fort from 1745 that guarded the bay from pirates.

Lucy, Charlie and Carol were unanimously for the third option, so Carol and I made it happen.  All three sights were out of town, and our first stop was the lagoon.  Alas, upon our arrival we found it out the tickets for the day had already been all sold, so we hopped back in the cab and headed for the botanical garden.

Our driver spoke no English, and seemed to understand less, but Carol’s Spanish improves daily here, so communication was not the problem to be answered.  The botanical garden features trees from all over the world (tropical ones), and was quite beautiful.  There was a huge eucalyptus tree and stands of giant bamboo.  We were able to walk “inside” the trees – they formed huge circles enveloping us – a cathedral of trees. 

The most interesting tree to us were the two varieties of Brazil nut trees.  The Brazil nut, which is the most pointless nut known to mixed nuts, is very cool to look at on the tree.  They grow in cases where the bottom drops off and then the nuts fall to the ground one at a time.  You don’t actually see the nuts until the bottom falls off and the nuts fall out (when they are ripe).

(Blogger’s Note: If you are preparing to contact me with a missive detailing the health benefits of Brazil nuts, I have a better idea.  Don’t.  Just Don’t.  That is all – thank you.)

The first cases we saw were all over one tree, and they were smallish, about the size of softballs.  Charlie and I (mostly Charlie) struck up a conversation with a Cuban woman who was leading a guided tour in Spanish.  She is a horticultural engineer, and, like many professionals here, spoke excellent English.  She was happy to fill us in.  The small cases hold around six nuts, but she told us about a nearby tree where each case holds 20.  

We wandered over to the tree, but couldn’t spot any.  She then helped us out – the huge cases (about the size of soccer balls) were not as plentiful – we only saw four or five total on the tree (no doubt there are more, but we only looked from a few vantage points).  

I have a new, healthy respect for Brazil nuts.  But, I will still skip over them as I take a fistful of mixed nuts in the future.  Just because I now know they grow in a very cool way doesn’t mean they will taste any better.

We continued on, adding a stop to Rancho Luna Beach (which is the beach we would have gone to if folks wanted a beach day).  The reviews on TripAdvisor were mixed at best.  Some people called the beach beautiful, while others noted it was the dirtiest beach they had ever seen.

I could see both sides of the argument.  There were beer cans and broken glass, but it was not as bad as I expected.  The beach itself was not the sugar sand smooth we found in Varadero, Cuba on our trip in 2016, but it was still beautiful.  Being a Monday, there was almost no one there.  

We didn’t stay long, and so it was off to the castle.  We did stop for a photo opportunity at a lighthouse (not open to the public).  Not sure how well the photos will turn out, as the sun was at the wrong angle for where we were.

Then, we headed down a dirt road, leading to another dirt road.  Don’t worry – both had equal numbers of potholes, so neither road could feel superior to the other.  

Following our driver, we walked down to the dock along the channel that leads from the Caribbean Sea (remember from your Cuban geography class – Cienfuegos is on the south side of the island, not the north (Atlantic Ocean) side.  

Cienfuegos Bay is the most protected bay in the world, as the narrow channel means that land surrounds most of the bay, protecting it more from bad weather and storm surge.  Also, the narrow channel also means that ships could not charge into the bay en masse.

The hill above the channel provided a natural place for a fort, which was finished in 1745 as a way to fight off pirates.  The Castle actually has two names, but we’ll go with the more-used Jagua Castle, which is the name of the Native tribe that was here when Columbus sailed into the bay in 1494.

While we waited for the ferry to come back across from the western shore, we watched lots of fish dart in the dirty waters below.  Down the channel, closer to the ocean was a large sign that reads “Nidos Cuba Socialism.”  As Charlie and Carol speculated on the meaning, I noted that the “U” had probably fallen down, so it likely read “Unidos Cuba Socialism” – essentially Cuba united in socialism.  Beautiful country, great people, but how’s that working out for you? Socialism is the sports participation trophy of life.

At first there were only a handful of people waiting for the ferry, but once it came, many more streamed down the hill to cross the channel.  It was a short go across, and we made one stop first (there are three stops, and there is no rhyme nor reason to the direction the ferry goes in – sometimes clockwise, sometimes counterclockwise).  It doesn’t really matter, as the three stops are all very close.  We did get good views of egrets and pelicans near the first stop.

After disembarking at the second stop, our driver and Charlie were besieged by restaurant callers.  If you’ve traveled, you know the type – they try cajoling you to eat at their restaurant.  Ignoring them, we headed up to fort, trying not to step in the dog crap or the horse manure on the street.  We were successful (there is no other way to measure poop stepping – either you fail by stepping in it or you succeed by not stepping in it.  “Almost” definitely does not count in poop stepping.).

We crossed the drawbridge into the fort.  A guide started talking to Carol in Spanish.  Lucy had decided to not go in, as the heat was getting to her.  Charlie wandered around for a brief time before going back out to check on Lucy.  So, we had a guided tour of the fort, with Carol occasionally translating.  

The fort had commanding views of the channel out to the sea, and had two San Juan-style turrets, as well as the big cannons.  At the urging of our guide, we went down the algae-covered stone staircase to view the well (neither of us slipped, so that’s win!).  Saw the dungeon, got a tour of the museum, and then headed up the narrow spiral stone stair case to the top of the fort, where we were afforded wonderful views of the bay, the channel, and the sea.

The fort is considered the third most important fort in Cuba, which is good to know if you are ever on Jeopardy, and you are asked about it.  We've been to the most important fort (el Morro in Havana) but not to the second most important fort (it's in Santiago de Cuba).  Our goal is only to go to the top odd-numbered forts in the country.

I would give you more of the history of the fort, but you really don’t care, so why put you to sleep, my dear reader?  And so it was back over the ferry, and then in the cab to Cienfuegos.   

Photos from the Botanical Gardens, Rancho Luna Beach, and Jagua Fort

Bamboo

Light filtering through the bamboo.

Brazil nut cases the size of soccer balls.

It's a Charlie Brown Christmas!

Charlie, Lucy, and Carol

inside the eucalyptus trees.

Life's a beach.

Puntas de Los Colorados 

lighthouse. It's 82 feet tall.

Apparently there is no "U" in Unidos.

Jagua Fort and the ferry.

Your faithful blogger

Carol and her personal guide.  Carol says she

understood about 80% of what the guide was saying.

The fort's bell and tower.

Carol closing and opening the drawbridge.

Life Is A Movable Feast

After touring Cienfuegos, Carol and I hit the pool.  It’s a beautiful setting, and very relaxing, even if the water was surprisingly chill, given how hot it was.

I had made an early dinner reservation for the top rated restaurant on TripAdvisor, Camila’s.  It was set right on the water (looking east from Punta Gorda).  The reason I went with 5 pm is not because we are old (Editor: No comment) but because the sunsets are supposed to be spectacular.

We found a taxi – a fellow right outside the hotel.  It was a 1959 baby blue Chevrolet.  I hopped in the front seat, while Carol, Lucy, and Charlie went in back.  I turned around to talk to them, and it seemed like they were a million miles away!  The car was huge.  Our driver spoke beginner English, but was eager to talk.  The gears ground, the car belched smoke.  There was no AC, but we were only going three kilometers or so, down to Punta Gorda.

We got there plenty early, so we went out on the dock for a pre-dinner cocktail.  A man swam from the next door dock, pelicans flew and alighted.  We saw two men out on a small boat.  The absence of boats on this beautiful bay was striking – we saw one cargo ship, a couple of ferries, and one or two small boats.  I remarked on the lack of boats, and Charlie reminded me that the government is not a fan of boats.

If this bay were in the US, Europe, Australia, or lots of other places, there would be pleasure boats and sailboats zipping this way and that way.  It made for a pretty and calm sight, but a lonely one at that.

I went to check on the sunset.  Went too soon, so I came back and we hung out on the Adirondack chairs on the dock, eyeing a pelican who was floating nearby.  Then, around 5:25pm, we all headed over to the west side of the point for a sunset show.  I will let the pictures below tell the story of the dramatic orange sunset.

Dinner was fabulous (next time you are in Cienfuegos, be sure to go to Camila’s).  The staff called our 1959 Chevrolet driver, and we headed back, people watching as we went.  We headed back up to the rooftop bar at the hotel, where we were serenaded once again by music.  It’s a pretty good way to spend a day in the life.

Spectacular Sunset Photos from Cienfuegos

(Editor's Note: You took these pictures -- you can't call them "spectacular!"  Readers have to decide that for themselves.  Blogger: If my readers don't think this sunset is spectacular, that's their own darn fault.  All I did was zoom and press a button -- the conditions did all the work!)

The beach at Punta Gorda

One of the few private boats we saw on the bay.

The quintessential photo of a family

picnic, a palm tree, and the sunset

over the bay.

Orange you glad I took this photo?

Lion in the winter -- Jose Marti Park.

The Pearl of the South

I picked Cienfuegos as our pre-trip for several reasons:

1.  It is not too far from Havana.  I didn’t want to go any place that we would need an internal flight (such as Santiago de Cuba).

2.  It is a UNESCO World Heritage sight, and you can’t go wrong with that!

3.  It is know as “the Pearl of the South” for its architecture and setting along a beautiful bay with mountains in the distance.

I had arranged a tour of the city through Carribean Pearl Tours, and after breakfast we were met by our charming, enthusiastic guide.  I am not going to give his name, because he did share his anti-government feelings with us, but we really enjoyed his guiding and his personality.  I will note that he was named by his father after a famous American, so this way I can remember his name in case you want to use him as a guide when you travel to Cienfuegos.

Once our guide found out that we were there for a government conference, invited by the government, he was quite interested to talk politics.  I noted that Charlie is famous in America (well, famous among a very targeted subsection that cares immensely about American politics), and our guide promised to Google him.  Our guide also very much wants to be a public speaker, Charlie’s job fascinated him (mine to a lesser extent).

He asked us about politics right away, asking if we supported the Revolution.  I choose my words carefully, noting that we support the Cuban people and wish for better relations and more openings between the US and Cuba.  Turns out he is not a fan of the government, saying that while the revolution had brought hope to the people, it was a promise that had long faded, as you don’t know which of your neighbors is spying on you.

One last political note before getting to the tour itself.  Later, I asked if he ever catches lobster, and he said that the government will arrest you and jail you for 10-15 years for catching lobster.  It underscores that, even though there is more openness now than in past decades, the government still wants Cubans to be dependent on the government, and they are afraid of anyone not being reliant on the government.  Keep that in mind, all you newly-minted fans of socialism.

We drove along the Prado, the wide tree-lined main street with many buildings reminiscent of New Orleans (the French built much of Cienfuegos even under Spanish control), then along the Malecon, where we got our first views of the bay.  Columbus found the bay in 1494, and it was coveted because the passage in is so narrow that only one ship can go through at a time, making it easier to defend.  

Our first stop was at Palacio de Valle, which sits near the water.  The palace, built in the early 1900s, is reminiscent of architecture in Seville, Spain.  It’s a beautiful building, undergoing renovation.  Each room is different, and there are nice views from up top.  We sat in the shade up on the roof for a while, talking more politics with our guide. 

We walked through the Punta Gorda neighborhood, which is a small spit of land that extends into the bay, ending at a small park.  On the way, we passed by many old, beautiful homes. The views are stunning all along, with the capstone being the view from the point.  Far across the bay to the east are jagged mountains (our guide told me the name, but I can’t remember). 

Our guide pointed out a nuclear reactor that was being built by Soviet engineers, but never finished as the Soviet Union collapsed.  Given Soviet engineering at Chernobyl, apparently the locals are not too upset!

Our taxi, a 1959 Chevrolet large enough for six people to squeeze into, picked us up again after Punta Gorda.  We doubled back toward town, stopping to see the beautiful yacht club (Lucy and Carol decided it would be a great location for a destination wedding!), and then they drove us past the stadium for the local baseball team (the Elephants – there is a big statue of an Elephant outside the stadium).  I should have asked for a photo stop, but getting out and back into the car was a bit of a hassle each time.

Back in the main part of Cienfuegos, we walked along the Prado, as our guide talked about every day life in the city, both before and after the revolution.  We stopped by the statue of the famous Benny More, known as “the Barbarian of Rhythm.”  I’ve never heard of him, but want to learn, uh, More about him (and listen to some of his music).

For lunch, we went to a restaurant on the bay, Brisas del la Mar.  I had the local Cienfuegos speciality, white fish (of some sort) smothered in cheese, tomato, peppers and shrimp.  It was delicious – but it also seemed like for every fork-ful I took, the food somehow regenerated itself.  I ate a ton, and could only finish half.  Carol had the ropa vieja, which I strongly considered ordering, but instead chose the fish dish.

Our guide joined us for lunch, and we were serenaded for a while by three guitar players.  We had nice views of the bay.

After lunch, we went to Parque Jose Marti, which is the large main square just a block from our hotel.  The town hall, with a dome based on the Duomo of Florence, the Catedral de la Purisima Concepcion, the Teatro Terry, and other famous building ring the square.  The amazing part was, had this square been in the US or Europe, every parking space would have been taken, there would have been ice cream carts and other vendors, and the square would have been packed on a delightful Sunday afternoon.

The buildings were closed around the park were all closed, as it was a Sunday, so it was time to head back to the hotel.

Cienfuegos Photos -- Day One

Palacio de Valle

Your blogging hero, and Mrs. Blogger.

If you look at our Seville/Cordoba pictures

from this spring, the architecture here at

the Palace is a dead ringer.

Sculpture and motorbike.

After all, Cienfuegos IS the Pearl of the South.

To the left is the duomo of the Town Hall.  Yes,

it is modeled after the one in Florence.  To the

right are the two cathedral towers of

different heights.

More about this guy in a later post.

Palace Ferrer and part of Jose Marti Parque.

Our lunchtime musical trio.

The Cathedral.

The only triumphant arc

in Cuba, built in 1902.

Our traveling companions, the

famed Lucy and Charlie Cook.

Charlie was enamored with this

fellow, who was at the restaurant

to greet us.

A charming place for pre-dinner cocktails.

This pelican kept us company for a while.

Return to Cuba

It’s a little strange, coming back to a country I never thought I would go to once, much less twice.  And yet, here Carol and I are again, landing in Santa Clara on our way to Cienfuegos. 

As in 2016, I was asked to be on a panel at a conference in Havana, billed as the 17th edition in a series of conversations about the relations between Cuba and the United States.  This is entitled (roughly, as I’m translating from Spanish without the benefit of being able to understand Spanish) “The relations between Cuba and the United States: The mid-term elections and the administration of Donald Trump.” (Some words are pretty easy to translate.)

Happily, Charlie and Lucy Cook (Charlie is on the same panel I am) were willing and able to join us for the pre-trip to Cienfuegos.  We all flew from BWI to Miami, and then from Miami to Santa Clara.  As we landed, the sun was going down.  By the time Carol and Charlie exchanged Euros to CUCs at the cambio, it was the last vestiges of sunlight.

Going through immigration was again noteworthy.  Carol was, once again, the problem!  This time she was asked to stand aside, despite being assured there was no problem.  Except another immigration officer intervened and told the first one to approve her and let her through.  After immigration, we then had to go through a metal detector to enter the main part of the airport.

 We met our cab driver for the 90 ride from Santa Clara (the location of the last battle of the revolution) to Cienfuegos.  The sun went down quickly, and the scenes flashed by mostly in the dark.  Most of the drive was on major roads (pockmarked by rough roads and the occasional monster pothole).  Sometimes our driver, who did not speak English, was going as slow as 20 miles an hour, while other times the road was smoother and he could do 50 or so.

On the roads, we went through towns, being stared at people sitting outside in the hot dark.  Some of the buildings were old and beautiful, others were shacks with maybe one light on (some were dark).

Safety is not a major priority, as people rode bikes or motorcycles with no lights on them.  It’s a good thing there are not many cars, as otherwise there would be many pedestrian deaths!  Many people were out and about in horse-drawn carriages, sometimes hauling agricultural products, and sometimes just hauling many people.  They were also in danger of being hit.  We saw the occasional burning of sugar cane fields, a bright, low fire off in a field.

We arrived at La Union Hotel, checked in no problem, and had dinner.  We’ve spent enough time with the Cooks that we are quite comfortable together, and the conversation, and Chilean wine, flowed.  Then, we went up to the rooftop bar to listen to music and enjoy views of the mostly dark city.