Rum, Cigars and Ancient Cars



Destination, 1956, or is it 1856, 1756, or 1656? That depends on where you happen to be looking in Havana, Cuba.


Andrew and I flew in from Cancun, for a few days of Latin Jazz, old cars and older buildings.  The first thing to strike you is the imposing Soviet-esk airport terminal.  You know, that kind of big imposing architecture you see in soviet era buildings - only shrunk down a bit, to fit the more modest needs of a trade embargoed tropical island.  The next thing you notice is that the grandness abruptly stops as you leave the airport and is quickly replaced by run down housing blocks and abandoned factories in the outskirts of Havana.  


But then you pass the Plaza de la Revolucion, the place where Fidel used to like enthralling his subjects with 6 hour speeches, you start heading into the old city.  With a rich history as a trading hub that includes sackings by French pritateers (1555), the Brits (1762), then as the playground for rich Americans and the Mob in the 1950s, before hitting the stop button in 1959 when Castro et al hit town.


We spent most of our time wandering around the narrow streets of the old town, marvelling at the architecture which varies from classical Spanish mansions - like the hotel we were staying in, through to art deco delights in the newer part of town where the mob casinos used to be.  While the architecture is great, the place has a very run down feel.  The government is working hard to restore buildings - in fact that seemed to be about the only industry at work in the old town, however it is a big job and I assume money is still tight given the ongoing trade embargo.



The other very visible effect of the embargo can be seen coughing and spluttering around the streets.  The old cars, in every state of repair are 50s vintage classics, often patched together with wire, bog and what looks suspiciously like house rather than car paint. They are great, even if a little out of tune.  In fact, most of them have Larda engines since they can't get the parts for the original engines.


The other thing to notice - or not notice, as the case may be, is the advertising.  Or lack of it.  There are very few billboards or advertising of any sort around.  Even in the state run white goods store we peeped into, there was a vast display room with only about 3 fridges in it - Harvey Norman this aint.


Despite the obvious hardships, the people seem relatively happy - or is it resigned to their fate?  One thing is for sure, they are keen to get their hands on hard currency - the thing that greases the very active black market - which means plenty of offers to buy cigars or to visit a salsa party.  These approaches became very familiar to us in no time.  


It usually wen like this:
"Where you from?".
"Australia."
"Ah, Sydney, Melbourne, Adelaide," accompanied by a look how clever I am grin.
"uh ha."
"you want to buy good quality cigars cheap?"
"No thanks"
"you want to go to a salsa festival?"
"No thanks"
repeat about 20 times a day.


On our first night we ate at what I think was a government run restaurant down by the harbour.  My advice is don't bother. The food was pretty average and expensive.  On the other nights we ate at a little Paladar which are these tiny (legally only 12 seats) private homes where they do a much better job with the rations.  Overall though, I wouldn't put Cuba on the top of my list for eating.


After dinner, the best thing to do is to wash it down with an ale or a rum at one of the many bars.  The local beer is quite good, and the rum legendary.  So is the music.  Chris put us onto a great little bar with a great live band belting out Latin Jazz beats.  Very nice.



I couldn't speak about Cuba without mentioning the cigars.  As neither Andrew or I smoke, we felt a little fraudulent not buying a bunch of cigars.  While we didn't partake ourselves, it was kind of funny seeing so many local chugging away on cigars which ranged from cigaret dimensions to things that were the size of a pipe.  Seeing little old ladies puffing on huge fat cigars was funny.


Surprisingly, I didn't notice too much propaganda around (in the old city at least).  That of course changed when we visited the Museo del la Revolucion.  As the name suggests, this place has a blow by blow account of the revolution and all the great successes since - it even has the boat that Fidel and co sailed from Mexico on (in a huge glass box guarded by several army dudes).  Reading the descriptions on some of the photos was interesting.  If a revolutionary was killed, he was a hero murdered while performing heroic acts.  However, the enemy were 

So Laid Back...


...I'm almost laying down.  Actually, I've been laying down a fair bit lately here in Tulum (that's me in the hammock). It's amazing how much of an effort things become when you are just haning out.  So much so, it's taken over a week (and two more countries) to write this blog!


Andrew and I did manage to drag ourselves away from the back for a day to have a look at some Myan ruins at Corba, about 40km inland from Tulum.  We had been told that it was pretty hot and humid in the jungle away from the beach and we prepared for the worst... Well, we packed swimmers to have a dip afterwards. The ruins were pretty interesting, and luckily the weather was relatively cool so no shirts plastered to the body photos (sorry girls).


After Corba we headed back to some ruins on the coast just near Tulum.  While Corba had a real ruins-growingout-of-the-jungle feel, the Tulum ruins felt a bit more like a city park (compete with manicured lawns) with some old ruins in it.  Very interesting none the less.


After, wandering around in the heat for the day, we headed to the Grande Cenote (see-no-tay) for a dip.  The Yucatan Peninsular is largely limestone and so the region his dotted with caves and underground rivers.  The Grand Cenote is one of these cave systems where the roof has caved in leaving a creator with a beutifully clear swimming hole in the bottom.  Alas the day, and the water, was a bit cold for me to stay in for more than a couple of minutes, but it was good to swim in cold fresh, rather than warm salty water for a change.


Oh, and did I mention, that we may have had the odd drink?  I had enough to-kill-ya (is that how you spell it), to do me a lifetime! (that was only two mum)  All in all, it was a great week hosted with great aplomb by Jenn and Chris.  It was great to catch up with them again, and to meet their US friends.

Anyway, here are a few pics of the week of lazing about.

Cocktails on the Beach

I had half a day to spare in Miami and was keen to continue my cultural observations of life in southern Florida.  What better way to do that than to head over to Miami Beach.  I headed to historic part of the strip where the buildings are all in the art deco style.    The place looked like what I imagine the Gold Coast would have looked like 50 years ago, complete with the odd 50's style car.

Being on the beach, and being a hot day, I decided I had better partake in a cocktail and pizza - but since I was driving, I made it a mango smoothy.  This being the US, the mango was more like a mango concentrate frappe rather than fresh, and the size was huge.  Nonetheless, it was very refreshing and allowed me time to people watch along the back of the beach.

After lunch, I headed for the airport and Cancun, Mexico.  Andrew's flight landed at the same time as mine so we were able to meet in the baggage hall.  Our trip from the airport to the hotel in Tulum, about an hour down the coast was pretty uneventful, and we finally arrived at the hotel at about 9pm.  By which time, Chris's birthday celebrations were well underway.  We had a little catching up to do, which was done with surprising ease, aided by a tequila shot.

I doubt there will be much to blog over the next few days as we are all settling into a harsh routine of sleeping, eating, swimming and the odd beverage.  I'm not sure how many ways you can combine those activities (maybe a job for some of my quant colleagues), so I guess I'll just have to experiment!