Cuba ..... Na Na Na Na Na Salsa
I know there are some old adage to do with the first half of his life that are attended by parents and the second half of your life care for their parents. Well I've been looking for my mother all my life, especially in times when my father is not around and she goes into complete melt competition. The first Once my dad left on a business trip abroad, managed (and not ask me how) to put his hand on the bottom of the mower while is still running. I can still see, and have always stuck in my brain the moment he put his hand in a sink full of water that instantly became a Ringtone deep red, a bit like the movie 'Jaws'. Duggan women are not strong-willed and belly of my mother passing, my sister ran away Room with the intention of phoning a good friend of the family of the road for help, only to faint on the way due to the "sight of blood." So we are left with nine years of age, Alice running through relationships with wet towels and water with sugar trying to revive them. Needless to say, was awarded on Hong Kong returned to my dad with a big bag of Haribo for being "brave daddy's girl 'and my mother was never allowed to cut the grass again.
So this gives us an idea of the mental state of Ms. Duggan to embark on a journey into the depths of the Caribbean with her daughter, less responsible, not the only man in the world who can save any situation, no matter how terrible. I would say I was sympathetic to this, but in honesty if I see the weakness of some I play on it a bit? "You've got the passport is not it?", "Flight is from Heathrow, Gatwick, is not well?" And so on. Cruel reality but very fun. In any case the joke was on me, arriving at Gatwick at 4:30 to find that our 07.55am flight to Havana with Cubana airways was not any place to be seen on the board, and after half an hour frantic running around to discover that the plane on which we intend to fly in (which was destined to arrive in the UK to Havana 6:20) even still had left Cuba. Another half hour later it was revealed that the plane was defective and that there another plane sent from Madrid and leaving at 2.30pm. Wonderful. Does anyone have any suggestions on how to spend 9 hours in large departures from Gatwick Airport? Not to me either. Reading, perhaps - and I skillfully Packed all my books nice easy ride in the main luggage and wore only Ernest Hemingway, For Whom Bell Tolls, trying to cover the whole Cuba thing, which is the easiest way to pass time reading, believe me. So giving in I bought a puzzle game, plugged on my ipod and noted the existence of strange and wonderful to the departure lounge of the airport capita (and not surprisingly to many TV programs for them!)
Well, the plane was not going at 2:30, left at 4.30 and one would think that perhaps after the hell of my extended family now the Cubana Airlines airways victims had happened, that would be treated like movie stars, pampered with drinks and snacks, tested at the time always available. Well it could be think ill and should alert to the fact that the Cuban communist regime demands all work, for more or less the same salary, and are not in danger of losing jobs work there ... .. Where is the incentive to do their job, especially when surrounded by hundreds of tourists, high-maintenance?! Anyway The plane had no entertainment, seating free for all, the staff was rude to the point of disbelief, there was a fucking annoying group of children school including two flower lovers sat opposite me, who snogged the WHOLE trip 11 hours, and, as he had banished any hope of a meal vegetarian, no food. Gosh I sound like my grandmother moaning. Yet I take comfort in the fact that money spent on the flights entered the Cuban economy and not the pocket Branson, that pussy.
Anyway with a lot of time on my hand, but wanted to address the lonely planet guide "A Brief History of Cuba." And so began the obsession ... ..
Hands, I knew very little about Cuban culture / history before going ( "They are communists, right?") and generally have no interest in learning about the history of places. Some years ago I spent a month traveling in Japan with two of my BESTEST friends, one who was living there for a few years. We had a great time, but both history being (ISH) students I can imagine my "You've seen a temple that has seen However, you can go to do karaoke again "mentality a bit grating. I thought it would be the same in Cuba ..." Yes, well now lets go dance sauce and rum drink! "Unfortunately, I do not know if I'm getting old and this is what happens, but I'm absolutely fascinated by the whole thing.
Thus as I have said all I knew was that they were Communists and, recently, some guy named Castro had resigned. I worry that this may cause chaos and unrest, but was assured by coworkers caribbeaners (?) are too busy to drink rum and cigars to get all worked up about things, and while the Yankees were held the margin would likely be civil unrest (and I hope that the Yankees had F * cked Up sufficient country in recent years to stay away, at least until to achieve a suntan).
Reading the guide helped set the stage for me, so I scored a short summary of events as I saw:
Native Cubans lived happily
"The natives get another Caribbean island, to kill all native Cubans and live happily
Spanish-turn and take things - Killing loads and use the rest of the slaves
-400 Years later, José Martí is a revolution to free themselves from the Spanish and U.S. step in the last minute and steal the glory
US-REALLY fuck things
"A group of tough guys (inc. Castro and Che Guava) plot to overthrow the Batista and some legal Dick, and trampled to the release of Cuban residents giving them the "ideal" of the existence
"To piss the U.S., Russia, Cuba to keep alive through the purchase of lots of sugar and cigarettes
- Russia (or should I say the USSR) shits (greedy bastards) and Cuba gets screwed over and people are starving
- They start letting in lots of snappy happy tourists (like me) to have all their money so they can eat again.
So you can see why I left history available at the 1st time!
In any case the exhausting flight back to long ... .. finally got that damn ship around 1 am, Cuba (5am English) due to more widespread fall outside of Holguin, and ran through the Visa Check and baggage arrival took us around 2 am ....
Thus who first thought is the will of our transfer to be there because we are destined to arrive at 4pm? Turning the first inspection no, but after half panic when we concluded that our company has booked two names - how stupid of us! So I rolled out to Havana in prayer our hotel there were 24 hours of receipt. Unfortunately, you never saw much of the city on the disc as planned 3 a.m. be, but at least we were on our way. Closer to the hotel I started to get a sickening feeling that is all too familiar with me being in a city at night, resulting in an ugly incident at Barcelona a few years ago (and yes, the story gets more complex every time he said - had knives you know, what I say knives? I was referring to firearms). So do not everything was better pleased when I heard our taxi can not drive down the street was in our hotel and intended to leave us at the end of it. A few dollars (I'll explain later the money) encouraged him to wait while the beloved mother (totally unperturbed by this) was extended to the road to check it was open. Halle-fucking-lujah was. Almost kissing the taxi driver came to me in my backpack and headed towards the path of the beautiful "Beltran de Santa Cruz Hotel.
So, be greeted with a smile after the receptionist exclaims "There's a bit of a problem with your room, the pipes broke and we had to move to another hotel, is only 5 minutes round the corner in the square "
What point will snap? Honestly? I broke here. "Look friend, we've been doing for 30 hours, 13 of them passing in the fucking Gatwick Airport, 13 in a plane of shit right out of the rock and the rest in transit between these places, we have not eaten, We have not changed underwear, we have not cleaned your teeth, and smells like dead rats and crap that is trying to tell me that I am having 2 women are poor and powerless lug luggage in a city unknown to them at 4 in the morning to go to a hotel, because you have a plumbing problem, dammit? "
At least that's what was said in my head ... what he actually said, in a very weak and feeble groan "If you're coming with us, I fear." And bless his cotton he did.
Eventually, my head on a pillow at 5:30 time Cuba (9.30 English) after dealing with the final disaster of the night to open my backpack to find my sunscreen had broken all my stuff. Perfect start for a vacation do not you agree? Things can only get better.
I guess maybe it really should say something about of my trip instead of my script for "Holiday from hell".
This was my first trip and definitely not last in the Caribbean. I think it was about 8 when I bought "100% reggae" and decided he was going to spend my honeymoon in Jamaica, so I hope once again come to these shores, since I find someone to marry me. In addition, many other places to visit, St. Lucia, Barbados, Antigua, Bahamas, etc etc ... Hopefully this future husband is rich! Cuba, however, seems to have something different to the rest and going to the sunny streets of Havana, which first confirmed this morning. Cubana airways Big Day Out of a sudden seemed a distant memory. Breath taking architecture ranging from Spanish colonial style buildings in Old Havana, (many of them completely abandoned, but in a cowardly manner!), the neo-classic in the Vedado district and the influence of Art Deco Central in Havana. The diversity I've ever seen in any city, and with the added advantage that unlike most cities that have avoided pushing blocks of flats monstrosity 1970 dead in the middle of a beautiful area. Any run by ugly buildings just added to his character.
That's not a cliché that there are bands playing in every restaurant, every street corner with people singing and dancing around. True, I was there. The first stop was at the restaurant Il Patio in the Plaza de la Catedral (possibly my favorite holiday mojito all, although not many and 1 is obliged to try the best!). There was a small set of 3 piece band (guitar, saxophone, bass), while a woman danced around the nut if (Mom said she had been there 2 years ago when she and my sister was gone!). They were awesome, I could not get enough of it! Then this man in the crowd (in Italian I think) just to dance, asked to have a go at the sax and just wiped the floor with some improvisation that put all that succeeded when he played in a category of recovery. That would not happen anywhere else in the world and the punters went crazy for it!
So The first day we spent getting a feel for the place. Walking around lost, stopping for mojitos once again and taking several thousand photos on all new roads on all possible angles. In the afternoon we did (on the recommendation of some friends) a ferry ride across the water to rise to a strong (and a large statue of Jesus). It was really fun as this clearly was not the main attraction and the shuttle appeared to be, literally, local bus and work. We stuck like sore thumbs! Also at the top of our hike we discovered some views not only surprising in Havana, but also a mini museum of the house Che Guava, where he lived after the revolution and before he ran to help Bolivia, and he was killed. Here I discovered I had asthma, like me, who briefly inspired me to go and start a revolution, but soon overcame it.
The food in Cuba is shit, I mean really sucks. I really do not understand how to make it so bad, but they do and especially as a vegetarian who is screwed. You get the eggs, many eggs, the eggs of many that the word is still me feel bad physically. The mother, having been here before knew this had prepared a pot and a big bag of cous cous to help us in situations difficult, but it has worked brilliantly the whereabouts of the only Italian restaurant (possibly in all of Cuba) to Havana, at least, we have made half decent meal! So after we chew our way through a large margarita and a mojito faster than scooted off to bed early, still a little fucked monstrosities of the previous days.
The second day was a major conference on politics and history for me. While normally concept would make me tremble with fear and despair, as I said before I am completely trapped by the fact that this teeny bit of specifications on the surface of the earth has contributed both to the history of mankind. We had some fun but first get a taxi to the Plaza of the Revolution in a classic, bright purple (my favorite) 1950 Buick with a driver more upset he made to pose for more than a complementary cheese! The Plaza is a bit bare unfortunately, with only 2 things to do. First, the José Martí Memorial Statue in front of the massive hunt that went to get a breathtaking view of the city and much afraid of seeing vultures circle around it. And secondly, my favorite part - the big picture of Che on the side of the government building "Hasta la Victoria Siempre" (Forever forward to victory), written along side. I have a bit of an obsession with Che to be honest, it's strange to think that it was hot? Anyway she was exposed as great place to stand where so many political demonstrations and addresses of Castro and other revolutionaries have taken.
After this error we have a taxi (see photos) to the National Hotel (very posh!). It was fun to see so many people turn to hire mercenaries and the swish and lap up a little yellow stain! Here we a mojito overlooking the water where we had been the day before and then set off on a little walk along the promenade in which finally ended at the Museum of the Revolution. It bears all I ever need to know about Cuba since the dawn of time. At some point it was really quite bizarre the amount of detail added - "Here Castro used the spoon is covering up while in Argentina "- no kidding! But it was fascinating. does not bother me that much about it (as I have given my short story Cuba), but one of the highlights was the "Wall of idiots," thanking the various political idiots for their contributions to the cause and the consolidation of the revolution. I do not really give a shit who insult!
The next day was more like a bus trip stress (6 hours -- 1 stop bath) to a village is beautiful, friendly colonial although on first impressions this is apparently not the case. The bus trip really showed in some very unpleasant, run through the areas that lack the charm of Havana, and on arrival at the bus station crowds of people were literally being subject to bullying us. Were advertising, not "houses" - equivalent to shelters in Cuba is to stay at home with a Cuban family who cook and provide for you, but everything seemed to threaten all for me. So I climbed into a taxi and headed to the Las 'Cuevas' (the caves). Any doubt about the coming days in this place soon dissolved when we saw where we lived was lush! We threw our bags and went straight to the pool sampling local delicacies - mojitos, hills pineapple drinks and quite strange red, orange and blue called Colonial Trinidad, that he liked. We have managed to befriend a group of residents at any time that we feeds more rum and snacks and gives salsa lessons. I was very supportive and after my set of classes that I was in my "I'm sad, lonely and desperate and need to learn sauce, to meet more sad and lonely people desperate stage, "but I did learn a new stage that was nice. Also had a chance to laugh My mother totally uncoordinated. Then, around 5pm, in a matter of 3 minutes, the sky was covered with thick black clouds and the heavens opened. I've never been in a tropical storm before and I just absolutely hilarious - the whole area was flooded after 2 minutes of rain, however, is still boiling bloody and people was dancing and pool! I asked my new best friend Tiago how long these storms usually last to which he replied "That depends on San Pedro" -- can not argue with that!
For our first full day in Trinidad we got up early and start our walk sexy and headed for the mountains on a walk with another nice couple unfairly from our lovely hotel and tourist guide of Jordan, who sounded a bit like Borat when he spoke it was a bit out of spawning, but you got used to it!
The first part was walking through the center of Trinidad, which was much more pleasant than it had seemed from the bus the previous day - beautiful and colorful, with people all going through there everyday business or hanging on the door ways, playing the guitar or the sale of fresh fruit. The second bit led us through some fields in the national park in the dense jungle and mountains. We walked about two hours finally ending at a beautiful waterfall and the reserve water which Cuban children were jumping and playing. I abstained as ever when it comes to water that may contain living organisms. Although I did not dip my feet and realized in a huge lobster as unpleasant creeping in the background and concluded that he had made the right decision.
The walk back was not as fun. The midday heat was really successful in the city of Trinidad, and is on top of a hill and our hotel on top of a hill on the hill and levels of lowest energy were definitely the end. But we had one evening, once again poolside cocktails and salsa dancing so I can not complain! Tonight, after dinner (the hotel buffet slop) that were invited to a traditional Afro-Caribbean show. 4 Uber Hot black dudes doing somersaults on stage crazy like eating hot coal and pick up the tables with his teeth. It was more erotic and I may have left a small puddle in my seat.
Next day was our last day in the city of Trinidad, as the evening went to the Ancon Peninsula, about 30 minutes south of Trinidad on the coast. However we have most of the morning at the hotel. It was actually called The Caves, for a reason and (as you probably guessed) is because it was located above a group of caves. One that is open for tours during the day and very funkily becomes a disco at night (though I never went to this unfortunately). So my little friend Tiago tour took us so it was incredible! Stalagmites and stalactites that the contents of their hearts - could only images salsaing people around them! I he!
After the pool was a little more, but seemed to be the pattern here, late afternoon in San Pedro angry with us, so we decided we can and transfer to the new place, while the weather was shit. So we went around town (which at this time looked like a river) and to the coast by a few days of sunbathing and chilling. On reaching the place seemed nice enough, but to be an all inclusive had a very different clientele, namely idiot drunken British burned. Well, I only saw one of these to be honest, a fat northern 50ish years old I was being rude to a bar man, but just that really bothers me. Just do not understand these people who just want to go on vacation to not really experience anything of the country, treat the staff like slaves, and unlimited alcohol available. Anyway we checked in and had a scan and was very disappointed to see that the "beach" really does not really exist, well, there was an area of sand and do not extend to the sea. Compared to our last place where everything seemed just a bit, so sleazy. The sun was back, so we camped at the pool bar and had some drinks. My mother, sensing that was not perfect, and a too sensitive nature decided to take a few to many pineapples and really start my boobs to be more enthusiastic about the place "I'm really warming to this place Alice, I'm really warming to it. Yes, definitely I'm warming to this place "... .. then said he wanted to swim in the ocean before dinner. Thus, in a drastic mother or investment roll daughter was doing my best to, in the least condescending possible to explain that to throw was a small cliff edge to reach the sea when he was angry as a fart that's probably not the best idea. Needless to say, a combination of his drunkenness and more emotional for me and still a little wound and began to feel a little sick have resulted in our sole argument of holiday participation of many "I'm just a shame for you" and "I have booked with us a holiday trash bet you wish you were with your friends, "says ... ... not pleasant. Especially enjoyable as the first I really feel bad turned out to be food poisoning and I spent the next 12 hours in the bathroom while pissing off my ass and vomiting. This is not the highlight of my day holiday.
But a new day dawned. Sensation of a weakening of my night in the john, I abstained from breakfast (if I saw a plate of eggs not know what would have happened), but suddenly walked out what over-reaction of the previous day had been. The place was beautiful. There were no drunk people English at all - only one who was only kicking because he refused to serve him (and rightly so - the hell), and even better than we found the real beach! A gorgeous little beach practically deserted a small bar behind her and a semi-circle of rocks about 100 yards from where, according with mom, was the best collection of tropical fish I had ever seen. It was perfect for me blow on my ipod, enjoy a brilliant book (no Hemingway!) And recover from my traumatic night, while my mother swam very excitable, and became a friend of any body which came within 10 feet of us. Much better!
Al next day, take advantage of free hotel bikes and went on a bike ride along the peninsula. I've been on a bike ride since I was 10 and after this I do not know why?! It was such fun! Admittedly, a bike ride surrounded by sea on both sides on a path lined with palm trees is much more attractive than cycling by the A413, but it really should be more often! We stopped off at the tip of the peninsula, where there was a hotel and spa off the mother on a boat trip to do some diving on the reef (which obviously no - I go in to my fear of the sea here - just make fun of me) and I had the opportunity to improve my 'How stupid now 'tan (apparently the last 2 years at Sun has not really changed my mind about skin cancer).
We had another morning on the beach after this before our transfer back to Havana I was really prepared for this. Anyone who knows me knows how I'm obsessed with being malarkey Sun tanned but this whole "culture" had really come to me and I was keen to return to Havana to learn more! At the end the day could get a sun tan in Lanzagrotty if she wanted a tenth the price (with the added benefit of collecting a few STIs), and my tan was almost perfect by then anyway (if I do not mind being incredibly arrogant!)
The bus ride back was even more a nightmare than the damn road. 2 hours longer than it should have been more reserved (for which people were standing), road closures, etc etc. Plus when we arrived in Havana that was so later that there were no taxis at the station bus to take us to a hotel, and raining blood again! After almost every person on the bus had been take a taxi (which we must be more aggressive!) finally returned to the Beltran beautiful and had a gourmet meal prepared cous cous bathroom and sat down at the bed ready to make the most of our last day.
The next morning Havana, he seemed 100 times more amazing than it was when I was there 9 days before (and it was a very surprising then). Just mooching around I suddenly had the horrible "from 5pm tonight this is all going to be more "feeling. And I was not ready. Trying not to let that remain, we walked the beautiful streets of Old Havana plaza by the cathedral, where we had to change mojito first life, and the seafront in which it decided it was time to deal with the hustle and bustle of the markets and buy some souvenirs Pressies and sticky, a Guava Che beret the most important, of course. Then we went to find first, a new discovery that was a street that appeared in all the paintings of Havana, which were on sale in the market. This was a street with a sign hanging by saying "La Bodeguita del Medio" which was a small little bar, where Hemingway used to hang out and apparently many other celebrities have gone through what the wall was covered with photos and signatures. This led us nicely to our point scheduled its next level. The Hotel Ambos Mundos, where Hemingway stayed when he was visiting. They have kept her room exactly as he had when he was and you can look around. Also the roof of this hotel has a bar, so we went there and distracted the rest of the afternoon having a drink there, sunbathing of the city, with excellent views and the charming company.
Turning our walk back to our hotel for drinks transfer occurred to me. These were the capital city streets and had people sitting at the gates are flattering, people playing guitars and singing and dancing around, children playing baseball, women washing hanging from the windows there. This would not happen anywhere else, ever. Can you imagine walking through London chatting to people, dancing with them, the children playing? I bet that 99% of Londoners do not even know that there are next-door neighbor of the names! And this was communism - all equal, all working as a team, not greed, and corruption, a real community. And I thought "I could do this" - I could live in a world "ideal" possibly prefer the countryside - where the houses each have a chicken and a piece of land to grow vegetables. But actually I could live well. I've always been against people earning more money than is conceivable doing satanic work effectively only making money by screwing over other people - bankers, lawyers, etc. and I have been against the situation that is born to reflect how far we can do in life (I know it is not intended to be, but it is). And I love the ideal. Everyone gets the same, provided the work, which make and receive as a benefit of a perfect educational system, national health service, perfect, perfect execution all government and a complete sense of patriotism. True patriotism - not only beat the other nation of football fans of patriotism.
I started thinking of England and wondered why he wanted to stay and live here. A country where so-called "left" wing prime minister (who apparently is now Gordon Brown, Tony Blair, no more) spent 2000 pounds of British taxpayers' money a year on cleaning your house too stupid amount paid by the State. And where Vicky Pollard White Trash with money in 10 babies who leave the welfare state while complaining about the "bloody and poles of Asians - to come here taking our jobs and tax money. "paying taxes is fucking why should not they be entitled to it? I'd rather get that fat Keith Miller ass in the world. This is really disgusting and I do not want to be part of it.
But of course, Cuba is not ideal. The dream is there and I think probably worked before the Eastern Bloc dissolved, but again if you really can not support themselves as one unit, then communism is not it.
Personally I think one of the important problems as to why things are not working as well as they comes from tourism. It is true that saved the country from starvation, but it has created endless problems and people seem divided into two personality types. Type one are mainly the older generation, still very favorable to Castro. They remember and appreciate living well post-revolution, especially before the period (between the fall of Eastern bloc and the beginning of tourism) and also appreciate that tourists saved your ass when things were looking pretty bleak. They therefore treat the tourists with gratitude, respect and kindness. The second type, what I call the 'new generation' of Cubans seem much more cynical and sure of what they receive is really "fair." These people are really resentful of tourists often to the point that they are simply rude (turning away, scattering, etc.). I think the problem is that they are aware of what life was like before. All they see is these rich idiots, with their fancy clothes, digital camera flash and available cash to throw around, and traveling all different cultures and places. Everything that can not and what could be if things were different. I guess that piss me off.
Another major problem with tourists rent is the discrepancy in what people earn, depending on whether working in the tourism industry or not. Money is a bit complex, but Cuba has two currencies - local weights and weights convertible. Tourists are only eligible to use convertible pesos and each convertible peso is really worth 10 Cuban pesos. So actually if I had to go to a store and buy a bottle of water - this would cost me say 1CP (about 50p) and a Cuban 1p (ie, about 5p). So they are actually charging tourists ten times what follows we always seem reasonable (2 mojitos tended to be around 5cp - £ 2.50 - not bad!). This means that when someone gives tips on a bar, for example 1CP - receiving about £ 5.00 worth of it, however, only cost you 50p. I think this is absolutely genius and I do not see why other countries have not caught on. In Thailand, why not charge £ 5.00 for a meal instead of 50p?! Tourists will pay £ 5.00! Yet people in the industry tourism, with advice, get a lot more money than any other that produces inequality in the village - all that communism is not. Take, for example, the stage of the walking tour we did in the mountains of Trinidad. The cost of this was 7Cp each for a total of 14cp and watch as our guide kept us from 9-2 in the scorching heat enthusiastically talking all the time, we had a 20cp note and told him to keep the change. So he 6CP - £ 3 to us, worth £ 30. This makes you feel good as a tourist. Give a tip of value that makes you not much different from the big local life. In fact, his monthly salary is 300p, so in reality the tip him a 5, what would win in a month. Crazy really. However, you think of all the doctors and teachers, etc., that ass of her slave and did not see none of this comes his way. Where is the incentive to work, then? This is not fair and is where the system really is broken. You could definitely feel some social unrest and I think especially now that Castro has resigned, big changes are underway. I guess if you're thinking of going I recommend you go as soon as possible. (Listen to me to make predictions policies when 2 weeks ago I did not know what communism really meant!)
Anyway enough of politics and return to reality. Damn I would, but I am hooked! Six months ago, to spend all my time googling Che Guava and communism for dummies "or write ridiculously long blogs that no one read (except maybe Sam - and even probably have got bored by now), would have been nice if I had Nout best thing to do. But now I do, as review of these tests bastard, and this obsession is to find new, greatly reducing the productivity of betting!
All in all holidays (which what it was at the end of the day) was a great success. I'd love to go back there and see and do more of it, and like so many places I've been I say one day. But then I realize that to return to somewhere you've already implies the sacrifice of going to a new place I can come up momentarily obsessed with the next place ... .. etc etc
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