A day out in Havana

It’s impossible to leave Havana without having a lasting memory of the music. It was on every corner, up every alleyway, and in every restaurant and bar. We saw wandering minstrels, who seemed to be playing for fun rather than cash, because they made no effort to approach us for money, just gave a broad grin as they ambled there way around town. The music is played with great enthusiasm. Well, I guess they’d claim rhythm is in their soul.

Other than music you can't help but be pleased by the different modes of transport. It makes for a real clash of culture and gives you a schizoid view of what century/decade you might be enjoying. The scene down the promenade of countless 1950s cars will be etched in my memory. Yes, I know that’s one of the things that all the write-ups say, but it is Cuba and it really has to be seen to be enjoyed.

On a more sombre note, the main promenade had a permanent display of flags. To be precise there were 50 black flags signifying the states of America and a propaganda billboard displaying a less than friendly message about America’s continued occupancy of the island. I won’t get political but the message about the continued “less than harmonious relationship” between the two countries is echoed throughout the town. Let’s hope that things do finally get sorted.

The elegance of decay is something else that I guess will remain as a lasting memory of Cuba. Having got their welfare state into some semblance of order (Education, Health, and Pensions) they are now turning to their cultural heritage and it was a massive surprise to see such a wealth of museums and a determination to restore important buildings. Certainly the restoration program is well evidenced by “work in progress”. With this work complete—as long as it’s done sensitively—Havana will transform from a great place to visit to a superb tourist venue. I reckon I’m pleased I saw it with some of the “natural decay” of the fine old buildings.

Quick Tips:

Havana is a beautiful City despite its decay and there is loads to see in the town alone. It is important, therefore, to plan an itinerary before you arrive in the City or alternatively buy into one of the many city tours that are available. We tend to avoid half day walking tours as they do tie you down and often its good just to follow your instinct and enjoy the feel of a town.

Havana is crammed with museums of varying sizes and if you're only there for a few days then you'll need to be extremely selective. I'd certainly recommend the Museum of the Revolution to you as the Cuban experience is fairly unique and it’s virtually written itself into the world book of legends, with its larger than life heroes.

Don’t feel that you have to spend too much, in the local bars and restaurants, too, appreciate the live music. It always seemed to us that you could pop in for a coffee and take your time with it, as there was never any pressure to move on. Just be sure that you have a bit of loose change in your pocket for when the performing group “passes the hat around”.

Food in Havana was nothing to write home about so my advice is to go with no great expectations for gastronomic delights. That way you’ll only be pleasantly surprised.

We found it was best to ask for The Plaza de Armas when hiring a taxi. It’s easily accessible, being just off the main promenade and is then within easy walking distance of the rest of Old Havana

Best Way To Get Around:

The approved government taxicabs have a blue license number and always work off a fixed meter. We were told that these would cost 8-12 pesos for the journey into town, a bit of information that proved useful when we were negotiating the cab fare back to the hotel in a non-registered cab. There are many local guys who offer lifts in their vintage cars and one evening we assumed that the guy offering his taxi services from the Plaza de Armas was a blue badge driver. He wasn’t and I beat him down to 8 pesos for the ride back to the hotel. A good price and an interesting journey back in a 1950s beat up Ford Cadillac, with no internal facia, poor seating, and a fairly dodgy-sounding engine and a whiff of exhaust fumes. But hey, that’s Cuba and tourists now just love to see the 50s cars.

You can take a tour in a “proper official vintage car” for around 30 pesos and you’ll see many of these slowly driving around the town or cruising down the main promenade that stretches the length of the beach right across town. A more sedate hour can be spent by taking the horse and carriage tour (see my journal “Havana and its museums”), but if you really want to slow the pace down try one of the pedal cabs. We loved our coco-cab ride from Revolution Square, but you do feel a bit exposed.

Buses do run through town but they always seemed very full and we were told that they don’t particularly run to any time-table. Most hotels seem to run or share a shuttle service so, if you’re out of town, it’s as easy to hop onto this free bus and be dropped in the center of town. But for absolute convenience it is much easier to just hail a cab – there’s plenty of them and they always seem to be on the look out for trade.

If you’re driving you’ll need to be aware of the “sophisticated hitchhiking system” that the Cubans have in place. Effectively “officials” wait at traffic lights and locals register with them where they need to go. As the traffic stops the “official” asks motorists where they’re heading for. If there’s a match between the driver and the pedestrian then the hitchhiking deal is struck.

En route for the rum factory, I saw a church-like building that looked interesting and worthy of further investigation. A short flight of steps led to an impressive entrance which beckoned me forward. They explained that this was the old parliament building until the capital building was erected, and that admission was by way of a small donation. We were happy to accept her guided tour of this historical and presumably important building. We were led through the large, lavish, entrance hall into the council chamber (now a conference hall) with its faux marble pillars and colorful stained glass windows.

It really wasn’t too difficult to imagine the powerhouse of Cuban politicians deliberating heavy matters. There was a significant upper-floor gallery, but I’m not sure if this would have been reserved for the press, the public, or for less weighty politicians. From here, we were led back through the president’s room with the original furniture and, attached was a smaller ante-room where presumably the local dignitaries would have waited for their important meeting with the powerful president.

Other council chambers housed state propaganda indicating the clear progress that has been made with children’s education over the years since the revolution. Although some of the text was in English, our guide was really keen to explain what the facts and figures mean for modern day Cuba. She emphasized the improvement of social care in terms of education, health, and pensions and seemed disappointed when we indicated that we wanted to move on.

Around the outside of the entrance hall were small cabinets housing a variety of regalia and old Cuban coins. For the numismatists, there was a full range of pre-revolutionary coinage, some of which, our guide told us in hushed tones, was solid silver. Medals were in plentiful supply and although these meant nothing to us, it was clear that they really excited our guide who, on occasions seemed to demand our vocal appreciation. We nodded our approval and this was a sign for us to be led into another small room, off the entrance hall, to inspect the grand uniforms of the guards and the politicians. The Presidential "top hat and tails" was standard dress and worn by the president whenever he was on official business.

Although this isn’t the most fun-packed of tours, it is packed with interest of a bygone age. An age, if we understood things correctly, when education was limited and schoolmasters wore uniforms resembling that of army commanders (beige with a peaked soft-cap) to ensure, we presume, recognition of their work and respect from pupils and parents.

This visit will only offer a short diversion from your route and, at about 15 minutes for the whole tour, I’d recommend that you call in for a visit. The walk towards it from Obispo is really interesting with the some great architecture to view en route.

At the back of Cathedral Square towards Havana’s promenade is Tacon, a permanent street market, that is well worth checking out. It’s not the biggest in the world, rather compact, but absolutely crammed with work of local artisans. Instinctively you know to hang on to your valuables as the passage between stalls is tight and it’s difficult to stop to browse without obstructing other shoppers. In the end, we had to accept that people needed to maneuver around us otherwise we wouldn’t have stopped to view anything. Within seconds, a guy brushes past us muttering meaningfully "Sir, do you want fine cigars?" before disappearing into the hoards of shoppers. This approach became all too familiar as we wended our way around the market and several salesmen suggested if I didn’t smoke that they would make ideal presents for family. In fairness, the cigars looked pretty good, but I was reminded that it was always dodgy to buy on impulse on the street and secondly that such deals were frowned upon by the local police.

There were a lot of carved wooden automobiles in the market and, of course, much to do with smoking. Fine-looking cigar boxes at a fraction of the shop price, ash trays, cigar cases etc.

Rum was another theme with mock advertising memorabilia and other, often tacky, decorative ware. Momentarily, we were tempted with some fine ethnic statues around 10 inches tall with a fine ebony finish at a price of three for 10 pesos. I heard my wife utter those dreaded words "they’d just go with…" and decided it was time to find a distraction somewhere else in the market.

"Look at these handbags," I uttered. This was a suitable distraction but a close call as she handled the cheap leather bags considering that they "might be good enough for work!"

The Cuban stalls carried straw sun hats by the score and I did hear a Canadian voice offering to negotiate his baseball cap for some items off a staff. Now that’s proper bartering for you! Unfortunately, I was whisked away and never did find out how well he’d done.

Leaving the cluttered stalls of t-shirts behind us, we take time to gaze at one of Cuba’s ancient fortified ditches where barrels of old cannons appear to have been ceremoniously laid out. It’s a bizarre but interesting sight

Just opposite the market is a street café, D’Giovanni’s, where we went for a mid-morning snack and coffee. It really was nothing special and the baguette was "not a patch on" the one we’d enjoyed at El Floridita, but the service was friendly enough and it was well positioned for a spot of "people watching". As is standard with Cuban cafés, there’s no hurry so you’re not discouraged from sitting and watching the world go by. What better way to rest those weary feet and restore the batteries before the next bit of sight-seeing?

So, after our Cuban experience, we end up back at Havana International Airport. It’s not the busiest in the world and although it seems fairly efficient, the pace is not speedy and of course the Cuban love of bureaucracy shows through with a vengeance. Now we’d been told on numerous times that we must "buy our exit ticket" before we check in, so a group of us troll down to the booth. One of the young women from the group dutifully passed over her 50 pesos (for herself and partner) and passports only to be asked for her boarding card, Of course she didn’t have one because we hadn’t booked in yet. Could we be in catch-22 territory here? The cashier solemnly handed back the passport and told the recipient to return with her boarding card. There was no sign of the 50 pesos and upon asking for it the cashier looked vacant and denied having received it. Fortunately there’s enough of us to protest and after a bit of chuntering the 50 pesos are returned to live another day.

Moral: don’t hand your money over until you’re sure it’s necessary.

We’d also been told that we must have our luggage "shrink wrapped" and our guide had assured us that this was a free service, but as we entered the building the service was being offered at 5 peso a piece. Not a fortune, but we were entering the airport with minimal cash (you can’t take it out the country) and were just bemoaning the fact when we see further into the airport the free service that our representative had advised us about

Moral: always check your facts before jumping in with both feet.

Having finally checked in, we head for emigration where we must individually approach the booths and have our credentials checked. I have to say that the officer didn’t share my sense of humor as I took off my spectacles in an attempt to match the passport photo. He scowled and then proceeded to check every page of my passport, the boarding card, my exit visa, etc., before stamping my documents as "OK to proceed"

Moral: don’t mess with airport officials.

I finally emerge from the row of doors (a bit like a game show entrance) and then have to be physically checked as I beep passing through the metal detector

Moral: always make sure you’re metal-free (that includes sandals with metal fasteners) before arriving at the airport.

Having got through my final hurdle to the airport lounge we are surprised to see the hall decked out with international flags (surprisingly even the American flag is hanging here) a colorful display which makes for a great welcome. There’s a couple of snack bars and decent duty-free, so we spend the last of our money and then wait for the plane to depart.

For some reason, unbeknownst to myself, we decided to walk from the Capitolio Nacional to the Plaza de la Revolucion (well it did look close on the map!). We strode off in good spirits past the Cigar Factory and into the area known as China Town, through a pagoda shaped archway. We remembered from our horse and carriage tour that China Town was once the home of over 10,000 Chinese but the vast majority left Cuba on the arrival of communism and the remainder became integrated into the Cuban population. Our wander through this area confirmed that China Town is now a misnomer for this part of the City and despite the odd Chinese restaurant, we saw very little signs of immigrant culture.

In a short walk, we were out of the hub of the tourist industry and were passing through the streets of "real Havana". At one point my wife felt "uncomfortable" but we carried on and at no point did we feel threatened or "at risk". There was plenty of evidence of the decaying fabric of city life and accommodation was poor and "compact". I’m not sure I would have wanted to be wandering these streets at night, but although it was unfamiliar territory and we, as passing visitors, were in the minority (we did pass another couple going in the opposite direction) and we did get the odd greeting from locals.

This was a much longer walk than we’d realized, but we finally arrived at the Plaza de la Revolucion having walked up the leafy avenues near to Havana’s university. It’s a vast, fairly uninspiring square of concrete but here you’ll see the two powerful monuments to Cuban’s heroes. Che’s visage, with his familiar starred beret, overlooks the whole square across to the more conventional monument celebrating the life of Jose Marti. Somehow, the basic and seemingly uncomplicated art installation to Che Guevara makes it so much more powerful with the sun’s ray casting a well-defined shadow on the "installations" back panel. Its stark simplicity pays absolute homage to this Cuban legend

The huge figure of Marti is a real contrast. A conventional, but modern sculpture, shows the seated Marti in pensive mode. The detail is minimalist but nevertheless quite sensational as this silent figure is dwarfed by a mighty obelisk.

We pottered around a bit, taking in the atmosphere, before approaching one the Coco-taxi drivers for a lift back into town. There’s no way that we could have walked the return journey and the ride back to Plaza de Armas proved exhilarating if not a little hairy in places. The driver un-unnervingly wore a crash helmet. You see, when you’re so low to the ground, the roar of a two-stroke engine seems to be suggestive of greater power, but in our heart of hearts we just knew how vulnerable we were in the back of this yellow fiberglass bubble. Great fun when we arrived safely at our destination!

Cathedral Square was a hive of activity and, despite its heavy restoration, it has a real original and traditional feel to it. The Cathedral obviously dominates the square with its impressive double bell tower standing proudly and authoritatively over the plaza’s community. An elderly gentleman strutted around the center of the square sporting a huge cigar and a gnarled walking stick. His vocation was to act as a model for any tourists willing to pay a peso or two for the privilege of using him in their family photo. Other brightly dressed maidens paraded the squares, more blatant in their approach. They would accost obvious tourists and almost demand cash. For her part, a large women sat in the shade, with a lace dress with bright red accessories and a magnificent cigar, waving cheerily to passers-by. I really wasn’t sure what her take was, but her colorful presence added to the joyous feeling of the Square.

The cathedral was originally a Jesuit monastery but was consecrated as Havana Cathedral in the late 1700s and, thereafter, the square was renamed to reflect the status of the church. The elaborate front façade of the cathedral has a bundle of columns and, offset against the perpendicular pillars, the design waves heavenward. It’s full of niches and Baroque embellishments. It’s also interesting to note that although the front seems to have perfect symmetry, my eyes seemed to be playing some kind of trickery with my brain. It looked "wrong" and then it clicked: the right-hand bell tower had two fewer windows; but that wasn’t all. When I properly concentrated, I realized that the left hand tower is much narrower than its stocky twin. Odd, but I guess there must be some story to it!

It doesn’t have the grandest of interiors, but I do love to mooch around old churches, so I was well satisfied. On the altars, there are copies of paintings by Rubens and Murillo, and at the one end of the choir section with its dark wooden fitted carved chairs, there are parts of a fresco by Italian artist Giuseppe Perovanni. Apparently, some of Columbus's remains were kept here between 1796 and 1898, and there still is a nice little sculpture of Saint Christopher, Patron Saint of Havana, dating from 1632 and sculpted by Martín Andújar in Seville, Spain. He stands resplendent in front of a lush red carpet sporting his staff, a bright red hat, and scarf. Very fetching! Around the church, you’ll spot a variety of brightly painted carved angels, often I felt given a touch of quiet humor to the otherwise dour interior.

Around the square is the 1720s building currently housing the Colonial Arts Museum and if you've got time to eat, we read that Casa del Marques—part of the El Patio Restaurant—is well worth an inspection. We, unfortunately, were on a limited stay in Havana and needed to press on to see all the key sights.