The Cuba Lowdown: an intro to bike touring
December 15, 2010
Cuba makes an ideal introduction to bike touring: it’s easy to get refreshingly off-the-beaten-track, places to stay are well within two-wheeled striking distance, the terrain is flat(ish) and it’s very safe. Turn on the salsa soundtrack, throw in a string of beautiful beaches and sprinkle with stunning colonial towns, and you have all the ingredients for a great ride.
With this in mind, I’ve written an overview of our route, a little about the casa particular system, some insights into negotiating Cuba’s crazing dual currency system and a brief rundown of the kit I took with me.
Lightweight touring in timewarped Cuba.
Route and Distances
We bused out to Cienfuegos (5 hours, 20 CUC, no problems with the bike) then began the ride. First we looped around Central Cuba, stopping off in Santa Clara, Remedios (highly recommended), Santi Spiritus, Trinidad (with a detour to La Boca and Playa Ancon), Playa Giron, Australia, Matanzas (with a detour to Playa Coral) and back to Havana. Given the flat to rolling terrain, this made for a very enjoyable, easy going tour.
We gave ourselves a couple of days in Havana (an incredible place, and easily seen on foot) and cycled all but one day. Covering 60-95kms a day allowed us time to stop for swims/food forrages and to explore each town when we arrived. We probably cycled around 800kms in total, over two weeks.
Although there's plenty of mountains in Cuba, the terrain on our route was never worse than rolling.
Traffic free riding in Cuba's beautiful colonial towns.
Money Matters
There are two currencies systems in Cuba, the Peso Convertible (CUC) and the Peso National. CUCs are used for the likes of accommodation, internet and more expensive food, while Pesos are better for street snacks, fruit and local drinks. At the time of writing, the exchange rate was around 0.9 CUC to the US dollar, and 1.4 to the GBP. However, it’s best not to bring any greenbacks, as these incur a hefty 20% penalty when you change them. All other currencies are commission free, and you can change money at either one of the banks or the cadecas (exchanges). Cadecas will also change your CUCs (tourist cash) into Pesos Nationales (local cash), at a rate of 24 to 1. Once you get your head round it, it’s all very easy and above board.
Travelling with Pesos Nationales
If you really want to do Cuba on the cheap and hang with the locals, this is the way to go. Just a few dollars worth of pesos will last you days – most back-of-beyond sandwiches won’t cost more than a few pesos, and even a pizza with all the trimmings won’t set you back more than 10. You can sometimes pay with CUCs and get change in pesos. Look out for the three peso coin, which has a picture of Che on it.
Peso National and CUCs. Never the two shall meet...
Budget
Overall, we spent around $24 dollars a day, excluding a dollar or two for the odd beer (neither of us are big drinkers). This included massive dinners and breakfasts in our casas, and cheap lunches in backwater towns. It excludes very occasional internet use and our bus ride to Cienfuegos.
Hidden Costs
You’ll need a $15-20 Tourist Card, depending on where you’re flying from. From Central America, you can get this on the plane, and in the UK, my brother went to the Cuban embassy in London. We’d heard about a daily insurance exclusive to Cuba, to be paid upon arrival. However, we passed through immigration without being asked, so it looks like there’s not the infrastructure to support this quite yet. When it comes to leaving the country, you’ll also need to keep 25CUC handy to pay the exit tax.
Casas Particulares
My usual style of touring involves mixing camping with cheap guesthouses, both to save money and because I love pitching my tent in the wilds. Cuba proved a little different. Although camping is perfectly possible, from what I understand it’s officially illegal unless in one of the recognised sites, thus requiring more of a stealth approach. Since our trip was relatively short, we traveled extra light and treated ourselves tocasa particularesevery night.
Casas Particulares are the Cuban equivalent of a B&B. Although their 20 CUC price came as something of a shock (to me, at least), they’re actually really good value when split between two, considering what you get. The en suite rooms were invariably pristine (many had a fridge too), full of character and run by ultra friendly hosts. Towels are included, just don’t expect a brand new bar of soap (something of a luxury item it would seem, judging by the amount of random people who asked us for soap in the street).
We generally shopped around when we arrived in each town, allowing us some scope to negotiate. Jineteros (touts) often tried to coax us over with promises of 15 CUC deals, but we steered clear of them and stuck to the 20 CUC options. You’ll know the official ones as they have a little T-shaped blue emblem on the door. Casa owners can ring ahead and book you in with one of their friends if you want. Bear in mind that we were travelling on the cusp of the high season, and that casa owners are due for a hefty increase in the taxes they pay to the government, so this will probably be reflected in some price rises. I haven’t listed all the places we stayed in, but see addresses below for the places I’d really recommend.
Vicenta, the maternal owner of our casa particular in Playa Giron, called us 'mi amores', plied us with food, delighted in sharing Nick's family photos and treated us to her homemade mango jam. Retired after 38 years as a pharmacist, she used money from running a casa paricular to supplement her 8 CUC a month government pension.
Food
We invariably ate breakfast and dinner in our casa, simply because the food was so good. Dinner typically cost 8 CUC, and for this we could expect a veritable feast of fish/chicken/pork, or even lobster. This would be supplemented with a hetfy serving of rice, perhaps a bean soup, a mound of salad, some form of potato side dish, and sometimes even a fruit salad. Breakfast set us back 3 CUC, and was plentiful too: a tankard of fresh juice, a platter of fruit, bread, butter, honey, omelets and coffee. Each casa invariably had its own little twist on this formula, giving us plenty to discuss as we ate.
A lobster feast like this set us back 8 CUCs. About 9 dollars.
To balance out our CUC accommodation, we only spent peso nationales during the day at local eateries. Hygene can sometimes look a touch iffy, but neither of us were ever ill. A dollar or two will cover pizzas, sandwiches, snacks and fruit for the day. It’s that cheap. The food is pretty basic, though if you nose down some side alleys, you’ll often come across various Cuban culinary oddities that are always worth a whirl. A loaf of bread is a few pesos, so bring some peanut butter from home, or buy some honey in Cuba.
Most towns should have a basic selection of cheap street food, though Sundays can be a little sketchy.
More good news: Cubans love their ice cream. If you can't track any down, ask the kids.
These creme caramels were made using recycled aluminium drinks cans.
Water and liquids
Except where locals advised otherwise, I drank the local water. We generally guzzled plenty of liquids in the morning, in the form of fresh guava juice in our casa. A few casas provided filtered or boiled water, while others charged for bottled water. You’ll often see signs for refrescos, in hole-in-the-wall eateries or simply tacked to someones door, which are one peso a glass. Some use fruit (natural), most are straight from a packet. Batidos, at two pesos or so, were the business: a fresh fruit milkshake with enough ice to give you an ice cream headache. The fruita bomba seems to be a national favourite. A can of soda will set you back 10 pesos or half a CUC, while a1.5l of bottled water is 70c, and found in any of the dollar stores. Nick rated the Cuban coffee, served at breakfast and dinner in your casa, or from a grubby hole-in-the-wall eatery for one peso a pop.
Taking a bath, Cuban style.
Internet
I managed to poach a free signal at Havana’s National Hotel, but what was the extent of wifi for the trip. For internet access, you can buy scratch cards from Etecsa, the telecoms company, allowing you to log on and off at different locations, until your credit is used up. The charge is 6 CUCs an hour, and speeds tended to be a little on the slow side. Best to do all your research and make your printouts before arriving. There are no website restrictions, though it seems Cubans can only access a more limited selection of websites at internet cafes closed to foreigners.
Bikes
We both rode mountain bikes, my Thorn Sterling and Nick’s Specialized Rockhopper. I went ultralight on this trip, as we weren’t carrying any camping kit. I didn’t even need a rear rack or panniers, as my framebag, seat bag and bar bag combo provided ample space. Nick had a small bar bag and two rear panniers, with loads of room to spare. We never had any security concerns, but we were often told to keep an eye on our steeds, as opportunist bike theft is apparently common in Cuba.
I went light, and used my Porcelain Rocket framebag and accompanying kit. No need for panniers on this trip as we weren't camping.
Bicitaxis: with so few cars about, Cuba's bike culture is thriving.
Tyres
Nick ran Specialized Armadillo 1.5s, which are probably your best bet for the predominantly paved roads of Cuba. I bought a couple of fat, 2.2in slick tyres in Guatemala for just $5 dollars a piece. Normally I’d carry a spare folding tyre, but as I was carrying so little, I figured I was unlikely to have any problems. If you’re running 700c tyres, bring a spare and stick with 32c or above, as some of the backroads are a little bumpy. We did see a pack of seventy (yes, seventy!) riders from Austria, Germany and Switzerland on sleek roadbikes, though they were vehicle supported and keeping to highways. Cubans will hanker after your tyres, as only cheap Chinese ones are available.
Most Cuban roads are pretty good quality, though backroads can be a little bumpy, as can the cobbly colonial towns.
Traffic
On the whole, Cuban roads are eerily quiet, and what traffic there is tends to be sympathetic to bicycles. On our loop, the stretches between Cienfuegos and Santa Clara, and from Australia to Matanzas, were a little busy. With Cuba’s fleet of ancient vehicles, prepare to be occasionally engulfed by a cloud of noxious fumes, often just as you’re cresting a hill.
Most cars give you plenty of space. Beware the old Plymouths and their noxious fumes.
Flying with your bike
I flew from Guatemala with Copa and Nick from London with Iberia, and neither of us had to pay for our bikes, which was a bonus. When we arrived at the airport at 10pm, the taxi we took into the centre (25 CUCs). Then we left our box and bike bag at the casa particular. On the way back, I rode the 25kms out to the airport with my Ground Effect Bodybag and a load of cardboard (I’d heard it was hard to find at the airport), then packed up my bike there, to save the taxi fare. Easy to find, and takes an hour to an hour and a half.
Kitlist
1 pair of baggy riding shorts (for both on and off the saddle)
1 riding jersey (to be washed daily, in theory)
1 pair of short fingered cycling gloves
1 pair sunglasses
1 pair of riding shoes (SPD riding sandals would be best though)
2 T shirts for mooching
2 pairs of quick drying boxer shorts
2 pairs of socks
1 waterproof
1 pair of Crocs for off the bike
Wash kit stored in a zip lock bag
Headsweats sun cap (I didn’t bother with a helmet)
Some high factor suncream
Reading book
Small notebook
Lonely Planet general guidebook
Wally and Barbara Smith’s Bicycling Cuba guidebook (dated info but nicely written)
1 road map (purchased in Cuba)
Small Spanish dictionary and verb book
Family photos (Cubans are real family people, and love to check out siblings/kids)
Some ziplock bags for storing snacks
1 Original Mountain Marathon rucksack for around town rambles (packs down ultra small)
A handful of health bars and isotonic drink mixes from the UK
Rear LED and head torch
Multi tool
Bike pump
Spares (chain links, cleat, bolts, cables)
Lock (carried between us)
Inner tube and puncture repair kit
Note that anything you have left over will be gladly received by Cuban cyclists, who hunger for quality parts – particularly tyres, as there are only low grade Chinese ones available in Cuba.
Central Cuba Loop
December 11, 2010
In Cuba, colour combos abound.
Cuba.
What an incredible country. What an amazing cycling destination. It’s hard to know even where to begin.
There’s much to report from just two weeks of travel. 21st century communist Cuba is a complex place, and a large part of independent travelling here has been simply experiencing and contemplating its socialist system: both the inspiring policies introduced with the Castro-led revolution of 1959 (like nationwide education and universal healthcare), as well as some of its obvious downfalls (lack of money/freedom of speech/travel). It’s not all clear cut though. For instance, Cubans contend with massive billboards evangelising the benefits of socialism, quoting nuggets of wisdom from past leaders and revolutionaries. But in return, they live in an almost advertisement-free world, far removed from Western-style consumerism and its own form of control. Away, as Che once said, from the ‘invisible cage of capitalism’.
Politics aside, its capital city, La Havana, is like nowhere else I have seen: both supremely elegant and decidedly run down. The people we’ve met on our travels have invariably been warm and hospitable. At night, when the air is filled with music, when bars flow with rum and young men loiter in doorways, its streets still feel noticeably safe. There are casas particulares (Cuban B&Bs) everywhere, serving up platters of lobster, fish, chicken and fresh fruit to fuel you on your way. Except for a couple of challenging mountain belts for those in search of Alp-like climbs, the terrain is relatively flat. Ok, so there can be brutal headwinds to contend with, but if you pick your route carefully, you should get through pretty much unscathed. And did I mention those crystal clear Caribbean and Atlantic waters? They’re the perfect way to wash away sweat and temper the midday heat.
For the cyclist, it helps that its roads are all but empty of cars. Money-tight Cubans are masters of reinvention and for the most part, people travel in old Russian trucks, or by horse and makeshift cart, or homemade bicycle taxis, recycled from old bike and motorbike parts. Pre-embargo classic are crammed with passengers, and even the tiny, boxy Ladas have been stretched into surreal limousines. I’m convinced that this lack of traffic empowers communities, reclaiming the roads as a place where people can gather in the evenings and kids can play freely. Certainly, Cuba really comes to life in its streets.
All in all, the more we travelled in Cuba and the more people we talked to (which isn’t always the easiest thing to do), the more we realised what a complex country this is. And the more we wondered about how it possibly gets by. Modern Cuba is undoubtedly founded on noble ideals. Under the strain of a trade embargo and without the Soviet block to bolster its economy, its ongoing resistance to being shaped by the business-lead interests of the US is noble too. Of course, it’s hard to get beneath the veneer of tourism and know what people really think. Yet to those unconvinced by the real-world benefits of capitalism, it’s also hard not to be impressed by at least a part of what socialist Cuba has achieved, and continues to struggle for.
Ultimately though, whether or not you buy into Castro’s firm handed government and its results, Cuba is a country that will doubtlessly challenge the way you think. Each and every day, Nick and I spent hours contemplating Cuban socialism, and trying to decipher what we thought of it. Which, in my mind, is good a reason as any to visit this incredible place.
We caught a bus from Havana to Cienfuegos, then spent a week touring Central Cuba before riding back to the capital again. This took advantage of the island's westerly winds. Most days we ended up in fantastic accommodation overlooking colonial squares, like this one in Remedios.
My brother Nick in the small village of Limonar. This is our fifth bike tour together over the last decade, joining Syria, Northern India, Kyrgyzstan and Tunisia.
Away from the Carretera Central, the roads are invariably very quiet. Cyclists rub shoulders with locals riding old Chinese single speeds, or steering horse and carts...
... or driving classic American cars imported before the revolution of '59.
These old gas guzzlers are everywhere, preserved thanks to the longstanding US trade embargo. To keep the country going, thousands of single speed bicycles were imported from China.
Refreshingly, there's no insidious advertising from multinational-owned businesses. But what you will see are massive placards by the roadside quoting Che, Fidel, his brother Raul and other key figures in the Revolution.
As well as more subtle messages on many a street corner. Educate your child, reads this one. Cuba has one of the best literacy rates in the world, at 97%.
The fall of the Soviet Union in the early 90s and the ongoing trade embargo and has placed enormous strain on the country's socialist system. But the message is always the same. Hasta la Victoria Siempre: to victory, always.
We couldn't quite figure out what people thought of Fidel. But Che seems to be universal adored. Memories of the Argentine revolutionary Ernesto 'Che' Guevara are everywhere. In Santa Clara, we visited his memorial. Killed in Bolivia in 1967, his ashes weren't returned to Cuba until thirty years later. I listened to a young mother telling her daughter Che's story as they walked around the adjoining museum.
The famous Che cigar, from a life size statue outside the Communist Party headquarters in Santa Clara.
Fed up with Tescos? In Cuba there are no supermarkets to speak of, even in and around the larger cities. Small markets, or hole-in-the-walls like this one in Trinidad, are where you buy your fruit and vegetables.
Which in turn come from places like these. There are hundreds of Organoponico farms scattered across the country, providing locally grown food for each municipality.
I stopped to take a photo of one and was invited in to have a look around. Run by four workers, the place was filled with carrots, sweet potatoes, herbs and all kinds of green goodness, flourishing in the November sun.
These little succulent little lettuces will soon be moved to a bigger field.
A classic Cuban scene: groups of men huddled round a game of dominos. It's a surprisingly rambunctious game, with each piece slapped down noisily to encouraging shouts and whistles.
In a country where people somehow get by on so little, the tourist dollar is ever more important. Cuba spends a portion of the money earned to restore its buildings. Walking around immaculate central plazas like this one in Cienfuegos feels like stepping into a 50's film set.
Some cars, like this Buick Eight, have been beautifully renovated...
... but the majority, like this Chevrolet from '59, are more sad looking affairs. The owner said it would cost him a couple of hundred dollars to get it back up and running, several times the average monthly salary.
In any case, most people can't even afford to buy or own cars.Those that do rely on remittances sent in from abroad, or hand me downs from one generation to the next. Hence this near empty autopista, a three lane highway built with Soviet money.
At this time, Cuba entered what Castro called the 'Special Period in a TIme of Peace.' Cost cutting Innovations included the stretch Lada... Other initiatives included enforced car sharing when hitchhiking.
As a tourist though, we experienced a different world to the working Cuban. Casas Particulares may be amongst the cheapest official forms of accommodation for foreigners, but at 20 CUCs per night, they cost the equivalent of the average Cuban's monthly wage. Like their British counterparts, casas promise massive breakfasts. A spread like this will typically set you back 3 CUCs - a little over 3US.
In fact, everyone seems to have something going on on the side - time and time again we were told how hard it was to survive on salaries or pensions alone compared to the 'glory days' of the 80s. Like much of Latin America, remittances from families living abroad play a big part of the economy. Casas Particulares are one of the best businesses to be in, though there's a limit of two rooms per household, and high government taxes are levied. Here, Nick grapples with another Times Crossword in our beautiful casa in Matanzas.
Almost all are incredibly well kept. This is where we had breakfast on our first morning in Havana. In a country where nothing is squandered or wasted, some felt more like museums than homes.
No doubt estate agents would go crazy for those original features. But in Cuba, there's no over inflated housing market - homes are swapped for ones of a similar size rather than bought and sold.
Out on the street, it's a different story. Most people can only afford to use the local currency, the Peso National. At twenty four pesos to a single CUC, your tourist money goes a long way. As you can see, even a sandwich won't set you back more than 5 pesos - a fifth of a CUC. That's not much more than 20c.
In the countryside, amongst orchards of citrus fruit, this juice bar was a real find. A glass of fresh papaya juice here cost half a peso. About 2 cents.
The peso pizza is a Cuban staple: hunk of white bread and fatty cheese that will set you back 20c. To the lucky ones travelling with foreign currency in their pockets, Cuba suddenly becomes embarrassingly cheap.
The collision of these two worlds is evident all around. Trinidad's cobbled streets add even more character to this UNESCO heritage city...
... while the suburbs, where the majority of Cubans seem to live, are not quite so idyllic.
A few swanky resorts aside, at least everyone has access to the beach. The main tourist draw is Cuba's stunning waters, home as they are to the largest coral reef in the world. While the big, government-run resorts have bagsied the main cays, there's still plenty of public spots to stop and cool off, like Punta Perdiz, on the way to Playa Larga.
Truly idyllic...
In fact, this spot was just down the road from Playa Giron, on the Bahia de los Cochinos: the Bay of Pigs, a failed CIA-backed operation to regain control of Cuba. Rumour has it there have been 617 attempts on Fidel's life, including an exploding conch hidden on the ocean floor in an area he liked to dive in...
Aside from its growing tourism business, Cuba also relies on its sugar cane and tobacco production, exported to Latin America. Cuban medical knowhow is also exchanged for Venezuelan oil. The travel-restricted Cuban doctors are allowed two years working in Venezuela, before returning home for good.
They certainly need the money. A history teacher we spoke to in Matanzas could see nothing positive about the revolution - citing the government's control over freedom of speech and Cuba's fall from economic glory as prime examples. As seen by this shell of a building close to the waterfront.
Moving on from Matanzas, the ride back to Havana unearthed this few quiet detour, away from the main Via Blanca that feeds into the capital.
...revealing yet more beguiling turquoise waters. With a few more days in hand, this would have made (yet another) perfect stopover for the night.
But our seventeen day journey was coming to an end. So we pushed on, fuelled by fresh sugar cane juice sold by the roadside.
Past the Olympic Stadium, on the outskirts of Havana...
Perhaps a little worse for wear these days, a poster of Che still stands proud and tall. Considering its size, Cuba has been incredibly successful at the Olympic games, and even ranked 5th in the medals table in 1992. Baseball and boxing are particularly big sports here.
Yet more Socialist propoganda greeted our arrival to the city, including billboards quoting the adverse effects of the trade embargo on the Cuban schooling and health system.
Back in La Habana. This is the original boat that transported Fidel and his 'army' of 82 fighters from Mexico to Cuba in 1956. It's protected behind glass and guard 24 hours a day.
The end of our journey. There can be few places as atmospheric as the Malecon. The sun was just setting as cycled towards the waterfront. Time just for one last sunset stroll...
Goodbye Cuba. Nick and I agreed this has been one of our best tours together. Cuba is a place that's hard not to imagine returning to. I'm already hatching plans for a cross country tour...
A side trip to Cuba – first impressions of Havana
December 5, 2010
So, after my stint in the States, I’m now back in Guatemala and heading south once more. Finally!
Except that I’ve returned to Central America by way of a short visit to the Caribbean island of Cuba. It’s a country I’d long wanted to experience on two wheels, having first visited as a youngster with my family in 1986, the second year its communist doors were opened to tourism.
Cuba also seemed the perfect place for a Gilbert Brothers Cycling Adventure. Although I doubt Nick would label himself a ‘cyclist’ as such, over the last decade we’ve clocked up tours in several exotic destinations – Syria, Tunisia, India and Kyrgyzstan. The difference here is that Nick’s now married, and the proud father of a seventeen month old baby, over whom he dotes ceaselessly. This is the first time here’s been away from his son, so Cuba’s safe, easy going and relatively flat credentials fit the bill perfectly. And its promise of winter sun makes the ideal escape from a British November…
Although this post may be filled with images of cars, there are actually relatively few in La Habana, given the size of the city. The majority of those that are here are relics of the past. As someone who yeans for traffic-free cities yet is gripped by a strange fascination for the gasguzzlers of yesteryear, this was already two big ticks for me. Curvy Buicks, Chevrolets and Chryslers, painted as brightly as the buildings, lent the place a timewarped charm which seduced me immediately.
Anyway, I didn’t get a chance to use the net much while we were in Cuba, hence the recent comms silence. Wifi options were few and fare between, and the state sanctioned internet cafes charged a hefty $7 an hour. What follows below are some first impressions I jotted down after a couple of days. A report of our fantastic two week journey will follow shortly.
November 18th
I have yet to even take to the Cuban roads on two wheels, as Havana is the perfect size for walking. But I’m already taken by this city’s take on life: it’s fusion of Latin and Carribean charisma, and the faded beauty of its buildings. From the moment our taxi turned into Centro Habana and began to wend its way to our casa, I could almost feel a tangible energy on its streets.
There’s a sense of community I’ve never seen in a city this size. Politics aside, a part of the reason would seem to underline my theory on car-centric cultures. Predominantly vehicle-free, Havana’s broad streets are free of both background danger and physical clutter. With all this space, there’s room for people to stroll, for kids to play heated games of football, and parents to push their prams without fear of cars razoring by at any second. I’m sure this lends itself to a more relaxed state of being, even if it is a subconscious one.
Kids playing football outside our 'casa particular'. Barely a car on the street.
Why are the roads so quiet? Very few cars have been imported since the US trade sanctions that followed the Revolution, effectively freezing the country and embalming the cars that were here from the heady days of the Bastista regime. These days, those old bohemoths have been transformed from relics of the past to everyday transport providers.
The owner of this '59 Buick (the year of the Revolution) proudly popped its hood to show us the original engine. However, as various other oily parts languished forlornly on the back seat, it didn't look like it would be going anywhere soon. He still needed another 100 dollars to get it up and running, a small fortune to Cubans, who typically earn between 15 and 25 dollars a month. Our first clue as to how tight money is in socialist Cuba.
A rare few are in immaculate condition though. I stopped to take a photo of this one in Havana Vieja. '1949' said an elderly Cuban with white hair, pausing as he ambled by. We both look upon it, admiring its curviness. 'Beautiful. But expensive to run. And the parts are hard to find these days.'
Pristine interior. Only the airfreshener (and perhaps the dangling monkey) point to the passing of half a century.
Quiet roads = a more relaxed living space. The domino brigade take their seats on the Malecon...
... Havana's famous sea wall where musicians gather, and lovers canoodle...
... and kids time their scampering with the swell of the Atlantic's crashing waves.
Doubtless, the warm and balmy climate lends itself to a loitering culture. To whistling and cat calls. People watching. Which we indulge in too (well, the people watching, rather than the cat calls), from the terrace of our casa particular in Centro Habana, our officially sanctioned accommodation.
It’s a Friday night, and we watch the scene unravel below. Under the yellowy glow of a street lamp, a man in a vest, somewhat surreally holding back a dalmatian tugging at its leash, is in animated conversation with a few friends. A gang of skinny kids run by, shaven headed and barechested, pausing to do press ups in the middle of the street. Then a couple lurch past, a half empty bottle of rum in one hand. Again, I’m taken by all this room to roam. Our street, which leads directly to the sea front, is almost car free. Along its entire length – at least a dozen blocks – I count less than twenty. The sense of space that’s created is refreshing. And with it comes a different urban soundtrack. The incessant city sound of passing cars is replaced by chatter and music, emitting from tall, open wooden doors and shutters.
Havana is a city of people watchers, and like us, locals observe the world going by from the vantage points of their wrought iron balconies. Doorways open right out into the street. Each offers its own slice of life: a family huddled round an old TV watching a telenovela, or settling down for dinner, the smell of fish wafting enticingly from the kitchen. Although parts of Havana Vieja have been spruced up with tourist money, for the most part buildings seem timeworn; faded, crumbling, and decorated with clothesline strung this way and that like a game of cat’s craddle. Small groups gather on corners; men with their vests rolled high up above their belly buttons, or girls in leggings that defy the sweltering heat (to Cubans, this is the middle of winter…).
Havana: a city of hanging laundry and people watchers...
And what we do see out on the road is different from anything I have seen before: crazy, homemade recumbent bicycle taxis weaving between classic goliath Chevrolets, replete with bright, peeling paintwork and windows wound right down.
Splashes of colour amongst dilapidated buildings, some of which are merely shells propped up by wooden scaffolding.
However, beneath the romance of it all and the glossy influx of much needed tourist dollars, there’s few opportunities to forget that this is still a staunchly socialist country, ruled for half a century with the heavy hand of Fidel Castro. Although the message seems quieter in city centre, a visit to the Plaza de la Revolution or a ride along the roads leading out of the capital reveals massive placards and billboards standing loud and proud.
Just as noticeable though is the complete lack of product-driven advertising, which lends itself to a consumer-free livestyle amongst Cubans that would now be impossible back home – though here it is as much as anything by necessity rather than personal choice.
You're never far from the party message. Reading matter in an outdoor market bookstore.
And more Fidel themed images In a hotel lobby. These photos depict Castro with various diginitaries, including one with Robert Redford from 1988.
It's not all crumbling colonial housing. This is the modernist Hotel Habana Libre. Preciously owned by the Hyatt, it was commandeered just nine months after its completion in the uprising of 1959.
Up on the first floor of the Habana Libre, we saw this mural, made in 1973.
Mural detail.
Amongst its incredibly varied architecture, Havana is home to an art deco quarter too.
And everpresent throughout the city, the face that adorns so many T shirts and posters all around the world. The people's revolutionary, Ernesto 'Che' Guevera, tacked up on a wall in a market.
