Part 22. Geez...you can take him out....

Whooo-hoooo....safe from the caverns! I'll celebrate by leaping onto a strangers big horned bull...'cause that's not dangerous at all....

Part 21. Unlost.

Safe at last! We cruised down the river, Steven trailed his hand in the warm water, but not me, I've seen too many movies and I pretty much knew that if I trailed my hand, then something would surely bite it off, or pull me under. I know Cuba has fantastic medical care, but I wasn't interested in seeing it first hand. Or hand-less, as the case may be.

We exited through this hole in the wall and our boatman did a swift turnabout so as not to go over the waterfall that was about 6 feet away and we hopped out, all in one piece. It was like coming out into some exotic jungle...humid and warm and blindingly bright after the dark cavern. We both really enjoyed the whole experience.

Part 21. Lost?

When we pulled up to the caves, I was quite taken aback at the beauty of the place. It was like a picture from a fairy tale, and no sign of caves or rivers anywhere. I wandered down to this rest spot while Steven stopped to use the bathroom in the parking area. I waited...and waited...and waited... and eventually had to go back and see if he was ok. He had to wait a bit, there was a bus in front of us, and they were all lined up to use the washroom, so he had just gotten in. Meanwhile, the woman who led the tour through the caves had left without us, as well as without an Australian couple. Steven hurried ( as I hollered "Hurry!") and off we dashed, up the stairs, just in time for me to snap a picture and see the Aussie woman disappearing into the dark cavern. Hoping that she was going the right way (the stairs also continued upwards, to the left) I followed her in. It felt so Indiana Jones-ish.

The caves were somewhat gloomy, but there was a lot of light behind us, from the opening, as well as a nice cement walkway that wound it's way through the rocks and stalactites. There was also some sort of electric lights, or maybe battery powered ones, spaced out every 20 or so feet. The four of us meandered along, trying not to bump our heads on the various rock protrusions. It was very cool, both temperature-wise and description-wise. I am a little claustrophobic though, and I was getting concerned that we couldn't hear the voices of the others. The path got narrower and narrower, and darker and darker and eventually we came to a fork in the trail. Both ways looked really narow and really dark. I scrabbled through my small daypack and brought out a tiny flashlight, and, to my delight, so did the Aussie woman. We both commented at how we have always carried a little flashlight and have never had to use it, until now. Both ways looked like you would almost have to crawl and I was pretty sure that both ways were wrong. We all stared at each other in dismay, figuring that we had missed a major turn somewhere. We could have turned around and gone back, but the trail ended with a boat ride on an underground river and came out miles down the road, where our various rides would be waiting for us. Hmmmm...what to do now? In our gloomy silence, we heard the faint shout of people, so we scrambled over the rocks and hastily ran down the trail and rounded a corner to find a boatman waiting for us. It was like the ferryman Charon on the River Styx. To get on? Or risk roaming this side for eternity? Steven gave me a push to jolt me out of my daydreams and in we clambered.

Speaking of piggy noises....

Besides calling piglets, Steven also seem to have a knack for calling peacocks. This one wouldn't turn around for love nor money until he made "peacock noises" ( I think he made them up on the spur of the moment, but it worked!)

Part 20. Out of the city.

We met up with our guide, Linoska, this morning and headed out of the city towards the province of Pinar del Rio and the Vinales valley (and the small town of the same name.) We had a full day planned, so we drove straight until shortly before lunch when we stopped at a roadside cafe. It was so pretty, all open air with a tobacco plantation right beside it. This large barn below is where the tobacco is dried before it's sent to the factory. An odd fact: The plantations can be privately owned, but the cigar factories are all government owned, so you have no choice as to who to sell your tobacco to. We stretched our legs here "played with" the little pigs you'll see in the next post and then headed on to Cuevas del Indio, which are some underground caverns...where we almost got lost .

Part 20. Out of the city.

I just have a soft spot for little pigs. I tried to get a picture of these little guys, but they ran away, squealing like they were destined for the stew pot right this second every time I bent over. Steven walked over and made some sort of noise and they eased over to him and let him scratch their ears. The second that this one got scratched he just fell over in a blissful heap o' piggy.

Look around

Look around and note all the platform and stairs that are nestled into the tropical trees.

Part 19 By the light...of the silvery moon...

After the show we came back to the hotel, it was after midnight and we sat in the garden, overlooking the Bay and drank Cuba Libres by the light of the full moon. Fun!

Part 18 At the Tropi...Tropicabana

After our ride through Havana, we came back to our hotel and got ready for the Tropicana. I was pretty excited about seeing this show, and I wasn't disappointed in the least. The tickets were expensive, and didn't include dinner, but they did include a cigar, a mickey of rum, a cola and a small platter of appetizers. There are three sets of seats, and we paid for the middle ones, but we were seated in the more expensive ones. We tried to tell the fellow who seated us that we were in the middle (less expensive) area, but he insisted that we stay where he put us. It was certainly fine with me...we were inches from the stage and it was table height so we didn't have to crane our necks and look up. It was a lucky mistake for us! I paid the extra $5 at the door to be able to take pictures.

The Tropicana is the most famous nightclub in North America, possibly in the world. It was originally a farm estate, and the widow of the farmer transformed it into a vast nightclub and casino with elaborate floor shows and costumes. It opened Dec 31, 1939, and it puts the Las Vegas Revue's to shame. It stands in the middle of an extraordinary tropical forest, with small stages built into the tree tops, glittery women are everywhere you look. It's completely open air and if it rains, the show is cancelled and you're simply out of luck. We were lucky and it was warm and there was a full moon to help illuminate the stage.

Part 18 Tropicana

I really like this picture, you can sort of sense the motion and colour when you enlarge it.

Part 18. Tropicana

The costumes were breathtaking, well, for me they were as I have a weakness for glitter and sparkle and glitz. I should have been Dolly Parton or a peacock in another life.

Part 17. In which we see China.

After we had seen the museum we walked across the street to find a shady spot and this fellow on the right asked us if we wanted a horse and carriage ride through the city; he'd show us all the sights and he gave us the touristy spiel. We told him we had seen all the same sights that he mentioned, just in the last day or two. He was one determined young fellow and dropped the price (from $40 to $30) We still didn't agree, because we truly weren't interested. He was pretty insistent and I was getting annoyed, when Steven finally said that if you take us somewhere different, and take us back to our hotel at the end, we'll go, for $20. He happily agreed in a flash (so you know that $40 was a ludicrous price and even $20 was probably too high, but the coco taxi's from where we were to our hotel were $8, so, we figured we'd see a few new sights for an extra $12)

He called for his buddy, a shady looking fellow, who slunk out of nowhere, introduced us to his horse, Mitsubishi, and we all climbed in and trotted off. We headed through old Havana and then onto a road near the waterfront, lined on one side with bars and ice cream stands, grocery stores with cabbages piled at the door, a pharmacy with nothing on the shelves at all and a lone pharmacist standing in the doorway, smoking. Steven asked if we could pull over for a beer as it was just SO hot. He hopped out and bought a beer for him and the guide, and a cola for the driver and me. The driver had to refuse a beer as any kind of drinking and driving (even in a horse and carriage) is illegal and a first time penalty is 2 years loss of license.

Once our guide has his beer though, the floodgates opened. He took us to Chinatown and showed us all the best places to eat, (and I'll say that these places looked like that LAST place that you would want to eat) he took us to his house (oh my, it was not very nice) He showed us all the places where he and his friends hung out, and where the local families shopped.

The streets are very, very narrow, there is room for a small car to pull over and just enough room for another car (or horse and carriage) to squeeze by. There are no sidewalks and the apartments on the bottom floor have their front door right there...their door opens right on the street. I could have almost reached inside and grabbed dinner off the table.

The homes don't have running water and you see large water tankers lumbering through the streets, filling up tubs and 5 gallon pals with water. Also, you see similar trucks that actually have tanks of pop, as in soda, doing the same thing. It was odd, seeing a little kid running home with a bucket of fizzy cola.

It was pretty interesting to see a local neighbourhood and to watch the people going about their daily routine. I felt like a bit of a dork, riding through their neighbourhood in a touristy horse and carriage, but the driver was hello-ing and waving to his buddies, stopping to share a cigarette every now and then and no one seemed to care. The Cuban people that we met were all very interested in where we were from, some like to talk politics, but these fellows were interested in Canadian music and in brand names. Young kids are they same everywhere! He recognized Steven's Oakley sunglasses and Sorel sandals right away, and wanted to know if we thought his shirt and shoes were good. He said he loves his job, and as long as he sleeps good at night and has some money for a beer, then he is happy. When he doesn't sleep anymore, then he gets a new job. Pretty good attitude. We ended up giving them both a substantial tip.

The bicycle sort of rickshaw you see is only for the Cubans, they aren't supposed to carry any tourists in these. No one that I spoke to was really sure why, it can't be a safety issue as the coco taxis' have no side or seatbelts and go whipping down the busy streets and you have to sometimes hang on tightly or risk falling right out. If you click on the picture below twice, to enlarge it, you can see how depressing the local grocery store is.

Part 16. My thoughts on Cuba.

Growing up in a "free" country (and I put "free" in quotations because nowhere is really free, no matter what type of government rules them.) I had preconceived notions about what Communism really was and what it meant.





Communism is equality among citizens. That being said, it could be the same definition for Democracy. Neither of them, Communism OR Democracy actually work when in the purest form, but both have good ideas and good intentions as well as not so good.

Picture of the Revolution Museum

The outside of the museum, you can see it truly is an architectural marvel, and you can go up to the very top and see virtually not a guard at all. There are cranky dragon ladies sitting on chairs at the ends of hallways and they yell at you "Hey. 'Scuse me Ladeeeee" if you take a wrong turn. (yes, I heard this as it was directed to me, more than once.) One tiny souvenir shop is tucked in a small corner upon the third floor. You go in one way and have to follow the arrows all the way around and eventually you are lead back down and out again, so you can't get lost. Besides, the cranky dragon ladies make sure you don't wander off the "suggested viewing path."

Part 15. The revolution museum

So we continued up the Prado until we came to the Museo de la Revolucion. I had heard nothing buy good about this place, and it's on all the "do not miss" and "sights to see" lists, but did I like it? I gotta tell ya...not so much.

It's the one thing in the whole trip that I found disappointing, and not meeting my expectations. And that is sort of odd, because I have really quite an admiration, in some ways, for both Fidel Castro and Che Guevara. Yes, yes, I know...Communism and all that, but really, they both had good intentions and Cuba was still far better off under Castro's rule rather than Batista.

First though, the museum. The building itself is pretty amazing. It was the presidential palace of all the Cuban presidents, including the infamous Batista, and it was obviously spectacular in it's time.

Now it is somewhat faded, drab, and sort of sad and dusty. The displays are poorly set up and just not that interesting. Now I will admit that people who took a guided tour had a far different outlook than I did, and perhaps I would have enjoyed it more if I knew a bit more about what I was seeing.Some of the displays were touching, and sad, like the bloodstained clothing of Che, some were creepy, such as torture devices, one in particular was a complicated device used for pulling out fingernails.

Some are a little overwhelming, like the entire boat, the Granma, that took Castro and his revolutionaries from Mexico to Cuba which is housed there almost as a shrine.

All in all, I'd give it a 4 out of 10.

Part 15 The museum.

The key to Fidel's cell (above) An anti-Batista sign (below)

Che and Fidel leaping out of the bushes. Gave me a bit of a start when I came around a corner and they were just "there". No rails or ropes, just 2 jungle soldiers in my face.

Part 15 The Museum

The wall (or corner) of Cretins, inside the museum. Reagan, Bush and Batista, among others.

Part 14. A little exploration.

We decided to take a tour of the Partagas Cigar Factory, but it was too late in the day, and it was closed. So since we were in the neighbourhood we decided to check out the Museo de la Revolucion. We strolled down the Paseo del Prado, a most elegant street lined with huge shade trees, benches and statuary. It was originally laid out in 1772, but was redesigned in 1927.

The street is full of wonderfully restored buildings; hotels, museums, the ballet school, the Theatre of Dance and palaces. It was really quite lovely, and gave a feeling of what Havana must have been like in it's hey-day. (hay-day?) Just one block on either side however, are areas that look like slums. An unusual city, to say the least.

Balconies. Nice, and not so much.

I think almost everyone has a balcony in Havana. Hotels, businesses and apartments. The heat and humidity is year 'round, and while most places seem to have air conditioners, they don't do a lot of good when the power is out. Besides, the dwellers also dry their laundry, grow plants and herbs and do their socializing from the balconies as well as just the the occasional breeze blow through the house.