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

January 24, 2019 ATL-HAV-MIA-HAV

Cuba

January 24, 2019

Atlanta to Havana to Miami to Havana

How hard could this be? A two-hour, non-stop flight from Atlanta to Havana, arriving at 1:30 pm in plenty of time to join the rest of the group for the three-hour bus ride to Cienfuegos and our festive welcome dinner. Right on schedule the pilot was making the landing approach and then suddenly he pulled up. A rainstorm had settled over the airport, closing it temporarily. He circled and went back with the same results. Another circle and then he told us he didn’t have enough fuel to keep circling around until the weather lifted so we were going to Fort Lauderdale instead. No, wait, Lauderdale is also closed because of weather so we’re going to Miami instead. By that time Havana should be open and we could fly the 45 minutes back BUT the flight crew had reached their maximum hours so another crew would have to be brought in from Atlanta. It’s sounding a lot like that “three-hour tour” on the Minnow.

Amazingly, none of the passengers made a fuss, just a group shoulder shrug. The two guys ahead of us and their two buddies two rows behind us were thrilled. They had polished off all the tequila on board and could only think, “They’re gonna restock this plane in Miami.”

Since we hadn’t landed in Cuba we could get off the plane in Miami. Alas we were on the concourse that time forgot. The Delta SkyClub just steps from our gate was not just closed, but the escalator leading to it was shut down AND barricaded. Our dining options were a Pizza Hut (personal pan pizzas only), Quiznos or the Budweiser Brew House while we waited for the new crew to arrive. The passenger list was a blend of returning Cubans, Americans visiting relatives in Havana, a quartet of bearded dudes that looked like a Z Z Top tribute band plus the Tequila Boys. The Budweiser Brew House was a bit overwhelmed by our food orders but the waiter moved at warp speed to uncork a bottle or two for the Boys. The dozen or so of our tour group on the flight had the time to meet each other while waiting for food and flight crew.  When the new pilots marched through the gate area a few hours later they were greeted with a standing O. The two new flight attendants followed on another flight, one of them saying, “I’m supposed to be in Shreveport.”

I’m not quite sure when we left Miami (the pilot bought everyone a cocktail to thank us for being so patient and treating them “like rock stars”) but we finally landed in Havana in the rain in the dark at 22:40, 11 hours after we left Atlanta. We all got through immigration and customs without any problems (it seemed that all the customs and immigration officers were in their 20s, all wearing tan, short sleeved uniforms. And in the case of the young women those uniforms were very tight and the skirts very, VERY short worn with lace patterned sheer black panty hose.).  Arrangements Abroad, the company that put the tour together, had one of their representatives, Kaylea, there with a (very nice) bus, food and wine and off we went, arriving at Hotel Jagua in Cienfuigos three hours later. It is very, very dark in Cuba when the sun sets. Kaylea thanked our driver for navigating through the dark and fog (?) and sheep (???). Another AA rep, Lynda, was there and had us checked in and in our rooms as quickly as possible. I must say that Kaylea and Lynda handled the entire situation calmly and efficiently. What could have been a horror show just seemed like a little hiccup.

It was 2:53 am when I turned out the light.