January 31-February 1, 2019, Havana

Cuba, January 31-February 1, 2019

Havana

After breakfast we disembarked, split into two groups once again, one group going to a rehearsal by the Danza Contemporaranea de Cuba and then Colon Cemetery and a cigar factory and the other group the same itinerary but in reverse.

We went first to the cigar factory. Our very stylish guide explained the process as passed through the different floors. The smell of the tobacco had permeated the wooden floors and walls so it smells like a humidor. 600 people work there, Monday through Friday, 9 to 5 with two breaks and lunch. Some select the tobacco for the middle of the cigars, others the outer leaves, but the main room had dozens of people sitting side by side, each at an individual work station. At the front of the room was a small stage with a chair and microphone. In the morning the reader reads the newspaper to the workers, in the afternoon a few chapters of a book. Sort of a living iPod.

All cigars are rolled by hand, to the size specific to that type. The cigar makers go through an apprentice period to learn the process. After that each person is expected to fill a certain quota every day, depending on the size of the cigar from 70 to over 100. Each worker receives a small number of cigars per day for personal use. There were a few people out on the street selling individual cigars. Hmmmm.

Finally our guide, a very attractive and flamboyant woman of a certain age, demonstrated the proper way to light a cigar. She used a cutter to nip off the mouth end and then a monster lighter with a flame like a blow torch to light the thing. She wasn’t smoking some dainty little cigarillo, but a big old see-gar a good half-inch or more in diameter. Alas we weren’t allowed to take any photographs inside.

The Necrópolis de Colón is one of the largest cemeteries in the world, 135 acres and 53,360 plots where some two million people have been buried. More on those numbers in a minute. We drove through the massive arched entrance onto the main street of the cemetery lined with tombs and crypts decorated in every style imaginable. It reminded us of the cemetery we visited in Buenos Aires. On the side streets are more modest burial plots marked with simple headstones. The Capilla Central is the impressive chapel that is in the center of the cemetery. It’s one of the few churches in the country that holds services, in this case burial services, one after another every day.

 Cemetery

 Hearse

Now, about that math. How can two million people be buried in 53,360 plots? The caskets of the dearly departed are stacked one upon another in family crypts or plots. After two years, the casket is opened and the bones put in a much smaller casket as long as the femur and reburied. Nelson said that families attend this ceremony. I know they stack ‘em up in New Orleans cemeteries and let gravity gradually compress everything into a smaller space. I’m trying to decide which might be creepier.  Colón is Havana’s burial ground and a very popular tourist site.

 We drove through the immense plaza dedicated to the revolution. Five story bronze sculptures of Che and Marti decorated a couple of the buildings, but no Fidel. In fact, finding anything with his face on it be it Tshirt or post card was close to impossible. In fact, he is not buried in Colón but rather in Santiago de Cuba on the eastern end of the island, ironically very close to Gitmo. His dying command was that his face not appear on any monument, building, clothing or souvenir. It appears that his final wishes have been carried out.

Che on a building

Our last stop before lunch was to watch the dance troop. The dancers looked to be in their early 20s if that old. We perched on rows of folding chairs at one end of their rehearsal space and watched them perform a “ballet” that they will be taking on the road. This was quite a dance. Lots of pounding on the floor, slapping each other aross the face, and chanting who knows what. The choreographer said it was his interpretation of life on the streets. Okaaaay. The Manhattanites in our group thought it was powerful and provocative. We ignorant citizens of the South thought it was just plain odd.

We met the other group at La Guarida, one of the best paladors in Havana. It was a bit more sophisticated in presentation and menu than the others. We learned from the others that they had seen a graceful performance with bright and cheery music and choreography. No hitting, no chatting, no floor pounding.  Well, huh.

After lunch we toured the National Museum of Fine Arts with one of the curators. We opted for the most contemporary wing. Beautiful building, spacious, well-lit galleries but only Cuban artists and not the greatest art I’ve ever seen. Another wing was devoted to European art of earlier centuries but we didn’t visit it. This is the last day and we were starting to run out of steam. The next option was a classical guitar performance at the Ceramics Museum. Luckily for us that museum was just off the square opposite the cruise terminal so we could go to the concert, do some shopping or just go to the ship. We found a small cigar shop in a nearby hotel where Jim bought some for his golf buddies and then back to the ship to pack and spruce up for the Captain’s Farewell Cocktails and dinner.

It was the last time we would all be together. The airport runs were to begin at 6 am the next morning. A number of us had afternoon flights so, bless his heart, the captain let us stay aboard until 10 and then we had a bonus tour taking the tunnel under the bay to the other side to visit Castillo del Morro, the fortress that guards the harbor entrance. It was quite the circus over there with bar carts selling piño colladas, food carts, buses and taxes coming and going. Wonderful views from the fortress walls of Havana and a shop down a tunnel and some stairs that sold coffee, cigars and rum. We spent most of our remaining kooks on coffee, saving some for a little airport shopping.

 Havana

 Taxi

We went over hill and dale through the countryside to the Havana airport. Yunney stayed with us all the way through check in and immigration, saying good bye as we approached the Cuban version of TSA. No TSA Pre-check here but it didn’t take long for us to find our gate. We were once again on a commuter jet, so we were in a cozy waiting room on the tarmac level. There was a small café that served up a dynamite toasted Cuban ham and cheese sandwich on that fabulous bread. It was among the best things we ate on the entire trip.

And what a trip! I’m so glad we went. It’s an island of beauty both natural and fading.  In the rural areas it might as well be the 1800s. Havana has modern areas but so much of its charm comes from the isolation after the revolution. Who knows how long it will remain a communist country and how long before the people realize that the modern world of communication, transportation and abundant foods and medicine is 90 miles away.

January 30, 2019, Havana

Cuba, January 30, 2019

Havana

At dawn we sailed through the very narrow entrance to the expansive Havana harbor. We can already see the pastel, colonial buildings associated with the city. Lucky us, there is room at the cruise ship pier so we won’t have to anchor and use tenders. Another big cruise ship was already there. Havana is frequently on the itineraries of cruises in the western Caribbean. We’re tied up at a nice, modern terminal but look the other way and the buildings on the next pier have been stripped to the studs with no windows or doors or anyone remotely involved in rebuilding. The little passenger ferry we saw crossing the bay has a landing just in front of us.

 Our neighbor at Havana Cruise Terminal

 Looking back at harbor entrance

 Terminal building in shambles

 Nice cruise terminal

 Sunrise over Havana bay.

Stephanie lectured in the morning about Cuban Painting to 1950, then an early buffet lunch and at noon we were ready to disembark. Unlike the cruise ships we don’t have the ubiquitous cruise card that acts as stateroom door key and charge card and is scanned when you get off and back on the ship. We have actual door keys. When we leave the ship we hand in the key and we each get a credit card size pass with our stateroom number. That way they know who is on or off the ship.

We passed through a security checkpoint on the dock, showing our passports. We ALWAYS had our passports with us whenever we were off the boat. Then we went to another building to pass us and our stuff through xray machines and then finally off by bus or on foot.

This first afternoon we split into two groups. One went on the bus with Hermes on an Art Deco Tour and then back for a walking tour of Old Havana. Vice versa for the other group and then we all were to meet up at the landmark Hotel National for mojiotos overlooking the Malecón and the sea.

We opted to walk first so off we went with Nelson for our first real taste of Havana. The streets are narrow, paved with everything from stone to rock to wood, and very busy. All the international banks are gone, but there are Cuban banks here and there. One is located on the ground floor of what was once the Cuban stock exchange building. The top two floors have been converted into car parks. It’s all very colorful and clean for a big city but this is the main tourist area. Some of the big old buildings have been restored with several now “boutique” hotels. This seems to be a generic term for a small hotel. We wandered into the open courtyard lobby of one. It was all marble and massive pots of palms but who knows what the guest rooms were like.

 Bank on ground floor, car parking above

 Side street

The buildings under restoration all have big signs stating the name of the project (usually a museo of something) and who is doing the restoration. This is one of those fuzzy areas. Sometimes it’s the State, but more often a company name is listed so we assumed private money was coming in from somewhere.

We walked from one park square to another and then another. Lots of trees and shrubs and fancy light posts and always a statue or fountain in the middle. Across from one square was what was once the American Embassy. The street in front of it is paved with squares of Maine granite that were ballast in the cargo ships. Another street on another side of the same square is paved with wooden bricks. The story is that the grand building was once home to the commander of the army. His wife was bothered by the clatter of horses hooves on the cobblestone street so she had the stones replaced with wooden bricks to deaden the sound. They’re made from a very heavy, very hard wood that stand up to the foot traffic pretty well but still need replacing from time to time.

Wooden street

There are just a few shops selling souvenirs and trinkets but several selling Cuban cigars. The prices are regulated, no discount shops. Art galleries seem to be the exception to the no-rentals-for-shops. There are a number of them featuring Cuban artists. You are welcome to purchase things to take back but have to pay a fee at the airport to do so. Remember we cannot use credit cards but there’s always a work-around. The artists who sell their work for four or five figures and above accept wire transfers. And another fuzzy explanation of how that’s done since Cuba has no financial relationships with western banks. Sometimes it’s best to just nod and say, “thank you” for the answer.

Nelson is full of little nuggets of fun information. As Old Havana was being restored, the government wanted it to be full of life thus the hotels, galleries and dogs. You see the occasional dog sound asleep in the sun with a license on a collar around its neck. These are official city dogs. They belong to the State. They looked well cared for I’m just not sure who does it. Another fun fact, the big black round things on corners or used to block streets to cars are old canons from pirate ships planted nose down in cement. The street signs are beautiful tiles on the walls of corner buildings.

 Pirate canon

 Tile street sign on buiding wall

Licensed "city" dog

And the cars! The streets are full of old classic American cars from the 50s used as taxis. Surprise, surprise, the taxis, both the old cars and the new yellow ones, are regulated and taxed. Those used for tourists are bright and shiny, everything from convertibles (I kept seeing the same Barbie-pink one all over Havana) to sedans to station wagons with the third seat facing back. There are also a lot of (regulated) horse drawn carriages available to ferry visitors about. Public transportation for the locals is neither plentiful nor reliable (Yunney said the buses don’t really have set schedules) but the paying guests have a lot to choose from. 1.6 million Canadians visited Cuba last year compared to 600,000 Americans. We didn’t see any Asian tour groups, but no shortage of Europeans. And why not? It’s January, sunny and 80 degrees.

Happy that we had walked first, we settled into the bus for Hermes’s tour of Art Deco Havana. At times it’s a good thing that everything ground to a halt in 1959 because it saved all the architectural gems from being torn down and replaced with something boxy and charmless. We drove by some and visited others. Hermes is a walking encyclopedia of Cuban architecture. We were so lucky to have him as our guide that day.

From the Art Deco area we drove along the Malecón, a seafront promenade that stretches for miles along Havana harbor from the old city to the tall buildings of the new. It really is wonderful and much beloved by the Cubans. However, the rising water levels are destroying the old buildings along the route. There is no climate denying here. Even though the sea was fairly calm, waves still crashed into the wall, salt spray in the air. The salt, heat and humidity are eroding the old buildings at an alarming rate. They quite literally collapse into a pile of bricks and rubble. One solution is to raise the height of the sea wall now about chest high but then it would block the view. Many of the buildings looked beyond saving.

Also along the Malecón is the current US Embassy. A multi storied building still flies the American flag but it is all but abandoned. Yunney told us that when Obama reopened diplomatic relations with Cuba, there was a constant line around the block of people trying to get visas. Yunney said she applied but never got one. Cubans can get exit visas from the Spanish Embassy IF they can prove their Spanish ancestry. Many people are descended from the Spanish but who has a copy of their great, great grandmother’s birth certificate from Madrid? And we complain if the security line at the international terminal at ATL is long. All we have to do is buy an airplane ticket and we can freely go anywhere. As Nelson said, an island can be both protection and prison.

The Hotel Nacional is stately and perched above the Malecón with a huge, grassy area in front, terraced down with tables and chairs here and there and waiters more than happy to bring you a mojito or two. Lots of people taking advantage of the view, the weather and the rum.

 Hotel National

 Looking from hotel across Malecon and Havana bay

Reluctantly we left that lovely setting to go back to the VV to change for dinner at the Ludwig Foundation for the Arts. The Ludwigs were German modern art collectors. There are several Ludwig Museums in Europe that display the art plus the Ludwig Foundation that supports and encourages young artists. The Ludwig Foundation of Cuba follows that mission. We were invited to dinner to meet some of these artists. The dinner was nice and the artists very interesting. We sat with a photographer and a printmaker. Both also taught art in schools. I can’t remember if I already wrote that education is mandatory and free through the ninth grade. By that time those students with special talent in say the arts or sports have been identified and take more advanced classes in their discipline. The printmaker taught advanced art at the high school level. The students have to apply and audition to be admitted. Only 35 per year were accepted at that school.

It was a nice evening BUT, remember, few if any elevators and dinner was on the terrace on the sixth floor. We did pass a door on the third floor with “NBC” and peacock logo on the front. One of our fellow passengers was a news producer (he filmed everything with audio, too) and told us that newspapers and networks used to have permanent bureaus around the world but now maintain offices to be used by reporters flown in to cover specific breaking news or events and this was NBC’s.  You learn something every day. Second issue is that there is very little street lighting in Havana after dark. Very little. We relied on cellphone flashlights to pick our way along the bumpy street and sidewalk leading to the building.

After dinner you could go to the Tropicana nightclub or Buena Vista Social Club, but late night music and dancing seemed exhausting so we party poopers went back to the boat. That is the evening that the wizard Egyptian baker had whipped up pizza and baklava for us. We had a drink and nosh on the covered deck up top. I can still taste that divine baklava.

January 29, 2019, Maria la Gorda

Cuba, January 29, 2019

Maria la Gorda

The waters all along the southern coast of Cuba are so beautiful---shades of blue from light aqua to deep navy, but this morning we anchored off of Maria la Gorda, surely the most stunning water of all. It lies near the end of the peninsula on the western end of Cuba. It’s a very popular spot for diving and beach going.

After transferring from ship to shore, we were off to Guanahacabibes Reserve, a strip of land 62 miles long that in 1986 was declared a world biosphere reserve by UNESCO to preserve the flora and fauna. As such, access is strictly controlled. Visitors must check in with the park rangers and then be accompanied by guides. This is all rather loosey-goosey. There is a man in a gate house with a gate across the road that he raises manually. At the entrance to another part of the reserve the “gate” was a piece of string stretched across that the guard dropped to let us through. Air tight security. 

Our guide led us along the bumpy limestone path (at this point I’m wondering if there is a smooth surface in the entire country) through the semi-deciduous forest, whistling to attract the tocororo, the state bird. I could hear its answering call but never did spot it up high in the tree branches.  My favorite tree is commonly known as the Tourist Tree; in the sun its bark turns red and peels. Afterwards we made our way through the park to the coastline where we picked our way through the rough limestone surface to the water’s edge.

Tourist tree with peeling red bark

We were driving back to the dock along the coastal road when suddenly, there in the translucent shallows was a rather shabby looking sailboat grounded and listing heavily to starboard. Flying a Canadian flag and of dubious sea worthiness it had run aground during the same storm that had tossed us about. Guess we were lucky that we were just sick. Just.

We were back on board in time for a BBQ lunch and then we set sail for Havana, 143 nautical miles. We rounded the western tip of Cuba where the Caribbean meets the Gulf of Mexico which sometimes can get a bit rough. Stefano had put a dish of Dramamine on his desk just in case. I swallowed one of those and chewed a Bonine. Belt and suspenders time for this kid but it was smooth sailing all the way.

Hermes Mallea, the NY architect and designer, based his afternoon presentation on his book Havana Living Today which is beautifully illustrated with pictures of interiors of homes old and redesigned. Hermes is an interesting guy. His parents are Cuban. In the 50s his father was a pilot for one of the mining companies. When the revolution started, he was told to fly himself, the Mrs and the company plane to Miami until it was safe to return, probably in three weeks or so. Needless to say, they never returned. Hermes was born in Miami. He told us that Cuban Spanish is lazy, lots of dropping the ends of words, etc, so his parents sent him to high school in Spain to learn proper Spanish. He doesn’t have any family in Cuba, but a wide circle of friends and sources for his books so he travels there several times each year. When there he has to "Cubanize" his Spanish so he doesn’t sound snooty to the locals.

Tomorrow, Habana! Habana with a B was the original spelling that somehow became Havana with a V, but you see both spellings used. Another note, Cubans do not say “koo-bah.” They pronounce it “kew-bah,” really popping the B. And we all thought we were so cool calling it koobah.

January 28, 2019 Isla de la Jeventud

Cuba, January 28, 2019

Isla de la Juventud

Slowly the passengers are rallying. I wasn’t the only one who had a wretched night. The plans today are to hear part two of Michael’s lecture about Cuban music and then go ashore on Isla de la Juventud by Zodiac to visit the Presidio Modelo where Fidel Castro and other Mondaca rebels were incarcerated from October, 1953 – May, 1957.

Lecture, yes; Zodiac to shore, no. About eight of us wimped out and stayed on board. If we had docked at a pier I might have sucked it up and gone ashore but no way was I donning a life jacket, stepping into a rubber raft and then hanging on to a rope along the edge of said raft with my fanny hanging out over the bounding main. I rode in a Zodiac whale watching in the Bay of Alaska many years ago. Jim loved it and jumped at every opportunity to go again. I put a check mark next to it on my list and haven’t been on one since.

So, off the majority went to explore the Isla and lunch at, all together now, a palador. The chef fixed us a lovely lunch featuring a most welcome chicken soup and we all spent the rest of the day lolling about, reading and/or napping and just relaxing.

Batista wanted to turn what was then called the Isle of Pines after the island’s large lumber industry into a paradise for rich American visitors but instead Castro built universities, repopulated it with young people and renamed it Isla de la Juventud, Isle of Youth.

Jim reported back that the prison was modeled after the one in Joliet, Illinois. Prisoners and guards never came into contact with one another. The guards traveled in underground galleries to the four sentry towers, keeping constant watch. It was converted to a museum in 1967 featuring Cell 3859 where Castro managed to reorganize the revolution despite his isolation.

When everyone was back on board, Stephanie presented her lecture canceled the day before, Winslow Homer & American Painters in Cuba. Despite a lot of art history classes and museum visits I wasn’t aware that he had painted in Cuba and did so in water color. What a pleasant Lady Day for me: tea and toast, lecture, reading, light luncheon, reading, lecture, cocktails and dinner. I probably barely reached three figures on the step counter.

I have no pictures of the day so this is probably a good time to talk about our guides.

As I mentioned before, Lynda and Kaylea represented Arrangements Abroad. Their responsibility was to make sure the trip went smoothly and everyone was happy. Well, except for the few who are never happy on any trip. Lynda is from NYC and had escorted this itinerary before. Kaylea is from Salem, Oregon, majored in Spanish and studied abroad in Europe, Uruguay and Havana. While in Havana she met Octavio, a Cuban artist. They fell in love, married and have lived in Havana for the past four years. I asked her how that conversation went with her family: “Hi. I met a man. We’re getting married. I’m moving to Havana.” It’s all good now with annual visits from family. She speaks wickedly fast Cuban Spanish. More on that distinction later.

Accompanying us everywhere are native guides Nelson, 50-ish former economic analyst for an American company in Havana who is married and restoring an old home in the city and Yunney, late 30s, married with young children who formerly taught French to Cubans in Havana. Both are indefatigable. Both are experts in the history and culture and current state of Cuba. Nelson speaks both Spanish and English at warp speed. Our group was usually divided into two groups, one with Nelson and one with Yunney. You weren’t required to stay with one or the other so when Nelson just wore us out, we would join up with Yunney.

They both freely answered all of our questions about life in Cuba, the politics and the future. It’s a communist country that has little strands of capitalism taking hold. It seems that most have a side business to bring in hard cash be it a palador, small shop (always out of the home; space is not available to rent for individually owned shops) or driving a taxi. Sometimes the answers were head shakers. I asked Nelson how much an average apartment would rent for and he said they didn’t rent, they bought. Young marrieds would live with relatives until they had money for their own place. Huh? Money to buy a house? How? Never did get that answer straight in my head. It’s like grocery stores. We saw the occasional pharmacy but never a food market.

Jim and I both thought that Nelson and Yunney were if not the best guides we’ve ever had, certainly in the top three.

Anchor up at tea time and we continue west towards Maria La Gorda.

January 27, 2019 Cayo Largo

Cuba, January 27, 2019

Cayo Largo

“Remember to take your passport”

Cayo Largo is a small (16 miles long, 1.9 miles wide) resort island off the south coast of Cuba. Made of limestone it has flat beaches of white, powdery sand, living coral reefs and clear,calm waters perfect for diving. There are no villages other than those built for tourists. Around 2300 Cubans rotate on and off the island (20 days on, 10 off) to work in the hotels, restaurants, shops and diving operations.

The VV anchored well off shore, beyond the reefs so today was our first experience with local tenders for the ride to the tourist dock. We were scheduled to visit a sea turtle breeding center and the Cayo Largo Clinic, part of the Cuban health care system. After that you could return to the ship, go snorkeling or relax on one of the beautiful beaches. All aboard at 4 pm.

Because we spend a lot of time on the Florida Panhandle we have some knowledge of sea turtles that lay their eggs ashore. Expert conservationists carefully fence off the egg nests on the beach, monitoring the hatching. Houses, hotels and condos along the beach are prohibited from exterior lighting that might confuse the hatchlings when they rush to the Gulf waters without any human contact.

The Sea Turtle Breeding Center approaches saving three different types of the protected animals. Each season they take the eggs from one of the nests and incubate them until they hatch. The baby turtles are then kept in large (several meters across) cement ponds. Some are released to the sea when they are one year old, while others are kept longer and released periodically. The modest facility a short walk from the dock is overseen by two naturalists, who like the other island workers, also rotate on 20/off 10. Yunney translated as the senior man explained the goals and processes of the Center. And then we were invited to “wash our hands” at a hose bib and then reach in and pick up one of the year old turtles, about 12 inches long. Whoa. This is entirely contradictory to accepted practice of no human contact with any animal that is to be returned to the wild and makes me wonder how scientific this Center really is.

Next up, a visit to the Clinic a short distance from the turtles. It was a modest facility, but very clean with a roomy waiting area and a staff of doctor, dentist, nurses and a few other support staff. All health care in Cuba is free. All medical personnel earn that very modest wage from the State, so these people are dedicated to their chosen profession. The doctors all attend medical school in Cuba. The doctors and other staff welcomed us and our questions. Once again Yunney translated (So much for the American conceit that everyone everywhere speaks English) as they answered our many queries. They could handle most medical concerns on the island but if surgery or more advanced care was required the patient would be flown to Havana. There is an international airport on the island with flight path right over the Clinic. One of our fellow passengers had left a medication at the hotel in Cienfuegos so the ship had arranged for her doctor to confer with the island doctor. And here lies the problem; between the embargoes and lack of Soviet support, there is a limited variety and supply of medicines. The one she needed was not available and the substitute drug was not effective. On the other hand, pre-natal care is first rate and constant.

On board the tender heading back to the VV

We shopped a bit at the little tourist stands near the dock. I bought a few keychains with carved wooden objects (turtle, conga drum) that were probably made in China. The native crafts were a bit crude and the T-shirts seemed to all feature a bottle of Havana Club rum. While a number of our group boarded a large catamaran for a snorkeling adventure the rest of us boarded that tender/dive boat to first bounce and splash to the dock serving the beach area and after the beach-goers got off the dozen or so of us left headed back to the ship. It was a bit choppy which always makes getting on and off a tender a bit of a challenge. Lunch in the dining room and then relaxing time until the rest returned. I was reading the stack of NY Times Sunday magazines I’d brought along when Jim found me to watch the others attempting to return to the VV. By then it was more than choppy; so much so that the tender could not safely transfer the passengers so one of the ship’s Zodiacs was launched to pick up the people from the tender and then bring them back to the ship. As we looked down from the second deck we saw the crew members as they grabbed each passenger from the bouncing Zodiac and almost tossed them onto the dive deck of the equally bouncing VV. Yikes. But everyone was soon safely back on board, ditto the Zodiac and then we lifted anchor and headed towards our next stop.

The pre-cocktail presentation was to be Stephanie Hendrich from the Met who has just begun curating a Winslow Homer exhibit scheduled to open in two years. Jim had already changed for dinner (resort casual, no black tie on this trip) and gone up to the lounge to lay claim to a good spot. By the time I had showered and was attempting to blow dry my hair the VV was really rocking and rolling, so much so that I couldn’t finish dressing. I finally gave up and laid down on the bed to hang on. Big mistake. About 10 minutes before Stephanie’s scheduled talk, an announcement was made that it was cancelled. Shortly thereafter another announcement was made that dinner could not be safely served in the dining room but the kitchen was going to provide a selection of toasted sandwiches in the lounge. About this time Jim came back to our stateroom to find out what had happened to me. He said that most of the passengers were down for the count. Lying down, inside, while a smallish ship is navigating high seas? What a rookie mistake. I haven’t been that seasick since I was a kid crossing the Catalina Channel from Newport to Cherry Cove near the Isthmus. Let us just say it was a long, long night with Jim as my Nurse Nightingale.

The next morning Jim scouted some soda crackers and hot water for ginger tea. He came back with tender tummy supplies and a report that the crew had brought the passengers down from the third deck to spend the night in the lounge/infirmary which was relatively more stable than the upper decks. Kudos to the ship’s staff who really stepped up to take care of us.

January 26, 2019 Trinidad

Cuba, January 26, 2019

Trinidad

“The walking tour is over uneven terrain, cobblestone streets and stone steps. Wear comfortable walking shoes and bring a walking stick if needed.”

Uh oh. That was on the day’s itinerary sheet. As we learned, “cobblestone” in this instance meant streets made of uneven river rock. Lots of looking down to plot a path of least resistance. Medical care is free in Cuba and we did have to buy Cuban medical insurance (50 bucks each) and we did enroll in Global Rescue (we opted out of the advanced Special Opps rescue team) but I was determined to avoid a repeat of a few years back when that single rock on a street in Sitka, Alaska put me in a boot for six weeks.

Trinidad has been a UNESCO World Heritage site since 1988. It is just a short distance east of Cienfuegos with a dock for ships. (Hooray) Trinidad is one of the best-preserved cities from the sugar trade times in the Caribbean. It was isolated from the rest of the island from the 1850s to the 1950s so escaped any radical changes. The original town layout is largely unchanged and many of the buildings in the town center have been restored.

As we learned during our week-long visit to Cuba, the biggest and most impressive buildings in the towns were once mansions built by sugar barons. And as we also learned, they are restored as museums, usually with the ornate ceilings intact but not many furnishings. The Palacio Brunet is now the Museo Romántica and does have some furnishings that belonged to the wealthy Borrell family that once resided there. We had a delightful local guide who passed along lots of information and lore. We visited a couple more once-mansions-now-museos and were encouraged to roam around on our own before and after lunch. 

We encountered some of the very few beggars we ever saw in Cuba; all very old and asking for a peso, about four cents American. We also encountered other tourists, the most we would see until Havana. Trinidad is a very popular tourist stop. It’s compact with splendor on this street and humble houses on the next and those wretched river rock streets everywhere. 

Side street in Trinidad. At least it isn't river rock!

There aren’t many cars, some motorbikes and bicycles but lots of horse drawn carts for freight and/or passengers. Nelson, one of the two native Havanans that stayed with us the entire visit, said the Chinese exported a half million bicycles to Cuba but most have just disappeared. He said, “We live in the tropics. It’s very, very hot and humid most of the year. No one is crazy enough to ride a bike in that heat.”

A horse cart in Trinidad being used to haul freight. Note benches for passengers.

A quick side note: Other than the rain the night we arrived, we had magnificent weather the entire time. Winter in Cuba means sunny skies, temperatures between 60 and 80 F and low, low, low humidity. The nights are barely balmy. Perfect weather.

Our other native guide, Yunney, took us to a bodega. That might mean a small market in the US, but in Cuba it is the bare-bones store that carries rationed items. Every Cuban receives a book of coupons every month to exchange for eggs, milk, rice and sugar. The average person is allowed eight eggs a month. If the bodega has extras, and the one we visited had dozens of eggs, they are sold by the piece for a small price. In every city, town or village, you will see a group of people outside a small store. They are literally in the bread line. Cuban bread is fabulous, but in line for it every day? Kaylea, our link to the travel company and general problem solver and question answerer, has lived in Havana for four years. She said she really likes it but the daily bread line is a nuisance.

Cuba imports 80% of its food. With the collapse of the Soviet bloc and embargoes with the west, the citizens are now encouraged to grow some of their own in kitchen gardens or even small truck (or more exactly, horse cart) farms for their own use and to sell to others. I really am not quite sure where the people get the rest of their staples. I never saw a grocery store or a butcher shop. Not much livestock either, other than horses and I choose to think they are all used for transportation. Every palador served ice cream for dessert so there must be some cows somewhere.

Lunch was at a palador on the main square. This one looked more like a traditional restaurant with tables of various sizes. People also walked in off the street to peruse the menu. It never occurred to me to ask how much it would cost an individual for lunch. All of our meals were included on our trip. If you don’t have to pay you don’t care how much it costs! Lunches always included wine, beer, soft drinks and bottled water. The water on the ship was safe, but we were warned that on shore, bottled only and only from our guides. (Everyone remember the scene in Slum Dog Millionaire where the kids were “bottling” water from the local pump?) We were usually served a cocktail, too. Or, rather, the virgin version that was topped off if you wished with a slug or two from the ever-present Havana Club rum bottle. My advice: if you want a good daiquiri or mojito, order it from a mixologist at a US bar.

We had the option of returning to the ship or staying in Trinidad to visit studios of some local artists. Jim and I went back to the ship. I’d already wandered into an embroidery co-op featuring dresses, blouses and shirts made by local women. We all bought something if only to support their efforts. Girl Power, it’s everywhere.

We sailed from Trinidad around Tea Time. Every day around four there appeared tea and various finger foods so we could keep up our strength until dinner at 7:30.

Leaving dock in Trinidad.

Also on board were three experts: a music professor from Yale, and architect of Cuban ancestry from New York and a curator from the Met. Each gave a couple of presentations during the cruise. First up before cocktails at seven was Michael Veal from Yale who gave part one of “Music of Cuba.” The pianist on board hooked him up with surround sound so we could hear the history of Cuban music. Michael was a bit professorial and dry, but his talk was well-researched and was a big hit with the music scholars amongst us. Michael is also a jazz bassist in NYC but didn’t bring his instrument with him. Too bad. This was also his first trip to Cuba. I’m still trying to figure out how he could lecture on music he’d never experienced in person.

Tonight we’re heading west to Cayo Largo, a small resort island off the southern coast of Cuba.

Cuba

Variety Voyager

At just 223 feet with 36 passenger cabins, the Variety Voyager is classified as a Mega-Yacht rather than cruise ship. With a maximum of 72 passengers and a crew of 31, it feels more yacht than ship. The Variety fleet operates a number of these small crafts all over the world. In our case, the VV was chartered by Arrangements Abroad in New York City and offered to those affiliated with Queens University of Charlotte, Yale and the Metropolitan Museum of Art in NYC. Our group was 45 or so; every passenger list had a different number. There were thirteen of us with a Queens connection, the rest divided between Yalies and Manhattanites. (Georgia? Now that’s south of Manhattan isn’t it?)

I’d read some comments on Cruise Critic that the boat was shabby and in need of sprucing up so I was more than wary. Much to my surprise, it’s quite handsome.

Except for a few larger suites up top, the staterooms are compact. Well fitted, but not much room to maneuver. Our bathroom was relatively large with a walk-in shower and plenty of hot water. We had a large window that brought in plenty of light and killer air conditioning.

There is a large common area on the second deck with plenty of arm chairs, couches, low tables and a bar. Tucked in one corner is the hotel managers desk and another for the tour guides to use. The dining room is on the third deck, large enough to seat everyone at the same time at a tables sized for two up to eight. It was always set with fresh linens, china, silver and glassware. Up another deck was the outside lounge, protected by a roof and furnished with the all-weather rattan couches and chairs that you’d find in upscale hotels and a larger bar. Up one more deck to the bridge level was the sun deck, up forward with a dozen or more chaise lounges for anyone ignoring their dermatologist’s advice.

The captain, hotel manager and dining room manager are Greek. The dining room staff and room stewards come from all over including Cuba and Odessa. The deck crew? Who knows but congenial and always working around us to keep everything outside clean and ship-shape. And a first: Captain Cristo has an open bridge policy. We’re welcome to come visit anytime except when the ship is arriving or leaving dock or anchor.

The staff is very accommodating, answering questions or solving problems immediately. A word to Stefanos the hotel manager about any cabin issue and someone was there, seeing to it almost before you finished your conversation with him. The laundry service wasn’t cheap, but it was fast says she who must have cleared her closet of short sleeved tops last fall and only had three to choose from and so spent the 31 Euros to have them washed and pressed. Do not judge.

The food was a bit uneven. Breakfast was a triumph with a selection to appeal to Americans, British and European. One of the chefs operated a great omelet station actually asking if you wanted it soft, medium or hard. There was always a platter of tropical fruits allowing me my daily papaya fix. And the baked goods. Oh, my. A variety of freshly baked breads, croissants and pastries every morning. We soon learned that down in the galley was an Egyptian baker who is a wizard. One night he fixed up his version of a midnight buffet: pizza and baklava. The pizza was tasty, but that baklava? From the gods.

We were rarely on the boat at lunchtime, but if you were, the kitchen provided at least three courses to help keep your strength up. Dinner was prix fixe for appetizer, starter and desert with a selection of three different entrées, one always vegetarian. Don’t like that, can’t eat this? The chef always whipped up a substitution. Wine, beer and soft drinks were complementary with lunch and dinner, but any other time it went on your tab. Ditto for cocktails. On a couple of nights the captain hosted a cocktail party up top with cocktails and passed canapes and then was joined by a select few at the Captain’s Table for dinner. Jim and I did not make that cut but in general the passengers were grand company; well-traveled, curious and fun.

We were able to dock a few times, otherwise we anchored beyond the ever-present reefs and relied on local "tenders." These are 30 ft long diving/fishing  boats with a small cabin and large open area aft with benches on either side and air tank holders above the benches. Cuba is a mecca for diving.. Millions come from Canada and Europe to snorkle and scuba dive. Americans are restricted to certain visa requirements such as our People to People: Education visas. "Sun and Rum" is not on the approved list. However, Americans can rent cars or motor bikes, travel about, stay in air b & b's, and do a little diving but "recreation" is not a approved reason to visit. But I digress...The air tanks are much more secure than the passengers. You can sit in the cabin or on a bench or the occasional plastic chair, but you're on your own to hang on. I did see one life jacket, vintage 1957. The Variety Voyager has the typical covered life boats, but uses Zodiacs to transfer passengers when required. When in the Zodiac everyone wears a life jacket.

This was a very nice diving boat that took us ashore and back. The VV has a diving dock on the stern. One walks down an exterior stairway to the dock and then you relax and let the VV crew grabs your arms and transfer you to the waiting diving boat crew. Your basic leap of faith.

January 24, 2019 Cienfuegos

Cuba

January 24, 2019

Cienfuegos

We’re now known as “the late ones.”

The Hotel Jagua is typical of many Cuban buildings and hotels. A stunning exterior with a huge tranquil and lovely lobby. Impossibly high ceilings with massive dishes of trailing plants hanging down, softening the marble interior. Last night we barely noticed our room but by the morning light we realized that the hotel lobby might have been five-star, but the room? Despite the balcony with water view it was more Motel 6. Everything was there—beds, bathroom, desk, TV, closet, safe—but it all was just a bit flimsy and shabby. We soon learned it was yet another victim of the 1959 revolution; construction began under Batista with dreams of a coastal resort for tourists and then after the revolution, stopped. Period.

Two dates that loom large in 20^th and 21^st century Cuba:

1959 – the revolution

1989 – the fall of the Soviet bloc

Now,  money. There are two types of currency in Cuba, peso cubanos (CUP) for Cubans and pesos convertible (CUC) for visitors. The US dollar was valid in Cuba until 2004 when the law changed. Now it is the least desirable major currency. Euros and Canadian dollars are fine and are charged a standard 3% exchange fee. But for the Yankee Imperialists there is a 10% surcharge plus the 3%. NO American credit cards are accepted in Cuba. At all. We were also warned NOT to do any online banking while in Cuba. Such actions will trigger something somewhere in the USofA which will freeze all of your bank accounts, investments and you will have some splaining to do to Homeland Security when you get home. Didn’t have to tell me twice. I exchanged some ATM 20s at the hotel for a smaller stack of kooks and prepared to go forth.

Because we’re the late ones we were given an extra hour to have breakfast (impressive buffet of everything one could want), repack, set our luggage out and begin our tour of Cienfuegos before boarding the Variety Voyager.

Cienfuegos is on a beautiful bay (a number of rowers out in shells this morning), is a UNESCO-listed city, founded by the French and the capital of the province of the same name.

The central square called Parque Marti is vast (655 x 330 ft), with trees, shrubs, statues and dozens of park benches. It is rimmed by colonial buildings fronted by wide sidewalks protected by arcades. The arcades were mandatory to protect people from heat &/or rain. Some of the buildings have been restored while others are in the process and that process can be measured in years not days, weeks or months. The Teatro Tomas Terry was in process. The interior had been taken back to the studs, or bricks in this case. There was lots of scaffolding but not much work going on other than an older gentleman restoring one of the magnificent lobby wall mosaics, by hand, very slowly, one bit of tile at a time.

Many of the colonial buildings throughout Cuba were built by the very wealthy sugar barons. The Palacio Ferrer on the square has a colonial façade with a wide arcade in front. Inside it is baroque on steroids. The high ceilings, close to 30 feet tall, are resplendent with gilded plaster work. The center of the building is an open courtyard for air circulation, common to most buildings old or new. Lots of marble stairs between floors. Elevators are few and far between in Cuba. From the rooftop terrace you can see the architectural dichotomy that is Cuba. The fronts of the buildings are beautifully preserved plaster painted bright colors. However, the sides and backs are often just stone blocks and almost always covered with mold. Growth industry here: mold mediation.

Every once in a while a touring itinerary yields an unexpected surprise. On the list for today, a private recital by the Cienfuegos Chamber Choir. Our visas read People-to-People, Education, so it was time for some people-to-people. As we sat in tidy rows inside the Museo Provincial a group of nine women and nine men walked in and stood before us. In front of them, a lovely woman in her 30s maybe, welcomed us and explained both the group and the program. They are a professional ensemble. The Choir is their job. They give concerts both in Cuba and around the world. Today they sang a cappella, their sound enhanced by the acoustics of the room. No pitch pipe for the director. Rather, she held a small pitch fork to her ear and then sang a series of pure notes, one for each of the harmonies. That was fascinating. The choir was absolutely wonderful. They sang classical songs, Cuban songs, American songs, jazz songs; it seemed that no style eluded them. A great surprise!

We spent an hour or so with a local naturalist in the Jardin Botanico Soledad, a 232 acre botanical garden with hundreds of plant species, about 20% native to Cuba. Besides 195 different palms, including the Royal Palm, the national tree, were massive stands of bamboo, a number of different hardwoods and huge Hibiscus trees with stunning pink blooms. Founded by another of those sugar barons, the garden once contained a Harvard-owned botanical institute to study sugar cane and tropical plants. Since 1961 it has been run by the Cuban government.

Lunch was at a palador, or privately-owned restaurant. Before Raul Castro’s moderate economic reforms in 2011, a palador was operated out of a family home and tightly regulated. Only twelve guests were allowed and all the staff had to be family members. It was a way to supplement the very modest wages earned at regular jobs. Now the paladors are much larger, serve more people and are comparable to a nice mid-range American restaurant. They usually have a fixed menu with a choice of entrée: pork or chicken or fish, and an endless stream of sides. It’s all served family style and is quite the mish mash of foods. Cubans do not eat a vegetable heavy diet; protein and carbs with fried plantains for fruit. This palador, while large, was indeed run by a family. Mom and Dad were the head chefs, their son the maître de, his fiancé the head server and his childhood BFF the bartender. Some of the dishes were better than others, but the place was clean and airy and the family delightful.

Now, on to the Variety Voyager.

I haven't quite mastered transferring the captions with the pictures so from top to bottom:

Palms in the botanical garden

Parque Marti

Hotel Jagua lobby

Lunch at the palador

Choir director with pitch fork

Side street off Parque Marti