Picture Perfect Trinidad

21st - 24th March 2014

 

Most of our first day in Cienfuegos was spent getting the lay of the land, celebrating Liam’s birthday with both lunch and dinner ashore and sorting out plans for some up-coming land travel. Having spoken to those who have gone before us, Cienfuegos seemed to be a  good place to leave the boat. It was a landlocked bay with the option of taking a marina berth or leaving GWTW on the anchor, we chose the latter. There is a charge made for anchoring outside the marina  just as there was in Santiago de Cuba, but  at 10cuc per day as opposed to triple that to tie to the concrete marina dock, it was a no-brainer as to which one to take.

We met Candido, an enterprising local guy on our walk into town. He offered his services for taxis, shopping or trips further afield. His name had also popped up in a conversation we’d had with a fellow cruiser the morning we’d arrived,  and came recommended as a reliable fellow to do business with. We decided that we’d take him up on his taxi service for a the 79km ride out to the town of Trinidad  the following day.

Our wheels for the trip were a red ‘52 Chevy, a real classic. The three of us piled in and  Fangio , not his real name, was off not sparing any of the horses.The last time we’d had a heart stopping drive like this was in a dusty old Merc heading over the Atlas mountains of  Morocco. The springs in the back seat were way past their prime, and with the rear windows up and no handles to wind them down, it wasn’t the most comfortable place to be. But our driver came prepared and soon produced a pair of multigrips and, leaning over the front seat, proceeded to attach the tool to a protruding bolt and wind the windows down. Fresh air flowed through and the comfort factor improved markedly.

The drive out took us past the sugarcane  fields, over green hills and then along the coast road where there were mile after mile of squashed crabs, road kill of the most bizarre type and the smell  emanating from the hot tar did little for our olfactory nerves. Arriving into Trinidad the next task was to find a place to stay, We’d decided that a Casa Particular was the way to go, the Cuban version of a B & B. Our driver took us to have a look at a couple. They were all very neat and clean but as Pete was with us we needed two rooms so the final  one was the winner. Casa Reina, just down from the bus station  in a quite street, had everything we needed for our 3 night stay. Two comfortable bedrooms with ensuites, and a wonderful roof top terrace  with views over the sea, the mountains and the town itself. It was a real gem just 5 mins walk to the centre of town and all for the princely sum of 24 CUC per night  including breakfast.

Trinidad is a very well preserved Spanish colonial town that was declared a Unesco world heritage site in the late eighties. The town prospered as a result of the fortunes made from the surrounding sugar plantations and mills in the early 19th century.  By the mid century Trinidad was  producing one third of Cuba’s sugar, producing enough wealth to finance the magnificent buildings that give the town it’s character. After settling in to our Casa it was time to start exploring. Our first stop was the Don Pedro cafe for a coffee. A rustic little place set in a leafy courtyard it was just what we needed after the drive from Cienfuegos. Next up we headed over to Plaza Mayor in the centre of the historic part of town which is surrounded by some beautiful buildings and cobblestone streets.

 

Cars are not allowed to enter but there seemed to be no problem with horse drawn vehicles or tractors.  Just off the plaza we visited the Museo Romantico and the Museo  Historico Municipal. Both  were once owned by  wealthy sugar barons. The interiors were decorated with period furniture from Europe, and china from around the globe. They were really magnificent.

 

The rest of our afternoon was spent strolling the labyrinth of small streets where there was a “Kodak moment” at nearly every turn. Passing a small bar in one of the back streets we stopped for a mojito or two and were entertained by a group of musicians. They were so good that we bought their CD. Cuban’s sure do know how to sing.

             

     

    

 

Day two of our stay saw us taking in the rural countryside on horseback. Our steeds didn’t move at a cracking pace, which yours truly was very happy about, but as they plodded along  in the hot sun we had plenty of time to soak up our surroundings and passed many homes that would never make it onto the Unesco list.

 

 

Our destination was the Javira waterfall, about a an hour away our guide told us, though the trip took closer to two.

He had failed to mention that we’d be stopping at an El Ranchon, (rural restaurant) along the way. As it turned out it was a welcome stop for our arses as well as our thirst and we downed a couple of glasses of freshly squeezed sugar cane juice.Then it was on to the waterfall, well water trickle really as there had been no rain for months, but the pond at the bottom was lovely and cool. On the way back the horses certainly knew they were heading home and  they picked up the pace  a notch or two. Even with another stop at the ranchon they got us back in just under an hour.

 

Trinidad, we discovered, has more eating establishments and music venues than any other town of it’s size that we’ve been to. Some of the restaurants were very upmarket and had extraordinary table settings. More silver, glassware  and antique crockery than you can imagine.

Of course we didn’t eat at those ones but we did manage to find a couple of other good ones, one with a pig on a spit which was delicious and another where we had the best lobster pizza ever, way better than the ones I make on the boat.

The biggest and best music place was not as we had assumed, in a building, but was actually on the grand staircase next to the cathedral. It kicked off about 9pm and really rocked. Loud music and around a dozen dancers clad in white outfits salsad the night away. It was great to take in the energy and vibrancy of the performers as they worked up a serious sweat going through their routines.

 

After a couple of busy days in Trinidad we felt we’d seen enough and were ready to head off. Rather than take a taxi we settled on a comfortable Viazul bus to take us back to the boat in Cienfuegos where we’d start making plans for more land travel. This time to Havana, the real heart of Cuba and also  to the rural town of Vinales in the tobacco  growing area west of the capital.

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Marea del Portilla to Cienfuegos

Cays, Crustaceans and Friendly Fisherman

14th – 20th March 2014

Continuing westward along the south coast this stretch of the coastline was particularly pretty.The terrain is steep, reaching heights of 1,972m as the lush green mountains of the Sierra Maestra  plummet down to the ocean’s edge.This stunning topography, sans trees of course, continues underwater where depth’s bottom out at 7,680m. The change in elevation from the mountain tops to ocean’s floor is the greatest, in the shortest distance, anywhere on our planet.

Rather than sailing overnight we elected to anchor in the bay of Marea del Portilla, a lovely calm spot surrounded by mangroves on the oceanside and a backdrop of dramatic hills inland.  As we entered the anchorage a couple of fisherman casting their nets gave us a friendly wave and then went back to the task at hand. A few ramshackle homes dotted the waterfront with bathtub sized  fishing boats pulled up on the rocky shore.

It was a bit of a rural scene with dogs barking, roosters crowing and the odd pig fossicking around under the trees.There wasn’t much of a town from what we could see but  as we weren’t going ashore it didn’t matter. At 9pm, while watching a movie in bed, we heard Spanish voices at the back of our boat. It was pitch dark, very windy and light rain had started to fall. 

To our surprise, holding  on to the side of GWTW were two uniformed men and a civilian woman in what can only be described as a very poor excuse for a rowboat, it looked very much homemade, and not by a shipwright. Our unexpected visitors were the Guarda Frontera (coast guard) who had seconded the services of a local home owner. After they politely introduced themselves in broken english they clambered aboard, boots and all, to check our papers. The woman spoke a little english and we asked her where the Guarda had come from as we knew they were no officials stationed in this bay. Her answer was another surprise, they had driven 16 miles from a town further along the coast, knocked on her door and told her to row them out to our boat.They stayed a little more than 10mins, stamped our papers and clambered back into the signoras’ boat, sitting regally in the middle, as she rowed the two burley men into the black night and back to the shore. Talk about service to your country! How did they know we were there? I guess big brother is watching.

Our next stop 40 miles further on was the isolated town of Cabo Cruz. Literally at the end of the road on this part of the peninsular there was not a tourist bus within cooee. Arriving early afternoon we dropped anchor inside the reef which skirts the cape and it’s lovely lighthouse.  As we ‘d planned on stopping at some uninhabited cays over the coming week this would be the last township for a while. So we piled into our trusty dinghy and ventured ashore to check it out. One of the locals enthusiastically waved us in to a very rickety looking wooden dock, still it did the job and the dinghy was secure. Cabo Cruz seemed pretty quite this Saturday afternoon, maybe that’s how it always is.

Cubans are quite social  and people of all ages were down on the beach, loud music blearing out from speakers while the wafting smell of BBQ’s filled the air. The sports hounds stayed home, front doors open, watching baseball on TV while others chattered over their front fences. It seemed an easy pace of life in Cabo Cruz. Being the only foreigners walking around we were met with many holas (hellos) and smiling faces. By chance we ran into the local Guarda man, an elderly fellow who was far more interested in shaking our hands and welcoming us to his town than he was in seeing our papers, though he did stress that we should not going into anyone’s house.  We guessed that not many cruising boats stop here let alone come in for a stroll about. He even pointed us to the only restaurant in town so we could enjoy a cervaza (beer) or two. Town was pretty low key. Most homes looked well kept and were painted in pastel colours, paths were swept and lines full of washing flapped in many of the yards. In the main street there was a school, a small children’s park , a clinic and one shop which seemed to sell just about anything and everything.

For a place that was so far off the beaten track the waterfront eatery was busy with groups of people dining, drinking and chatting amicably. Pete and Liam downed a thirst quenching Buccanero, while Annie enjoyed a softie, and we all settled on deep fried fish and chips for lunch. After quite a wait, nothing happens fast in a government run restaurant, our meals arrived, a modest sized snapper each and an ample serve of fried banana chips, potatoes are in very short supply in Cuba. While not exactly fine cuisine it hit the spot, as did the bill…total cost  for the three of us 48 Pesos, a little over AUD$2, drinks and all. Clearly, this was not a tourist scene and all dealings were in pesos, the currency of the locals. Had we known in advance we would have spent up big!

Later, as the sun was setting back aboard GWTW, a couple of refreshing sundowners were being enjoyed in the cockpit. But unbeknown to us, we were being stalked by 3 stealthy swimmers. We spotted them a few boat lengths away and soon they were settled on our transom, keen to trade some booty. Cubans we’d been told, can get into all sorts of trouble from the authorities if they are caught on foreign flagged boats, but that didn’t seem to worry these guys.

They produced a few good sized fish, some lobsters and vegetables and following much discussion we offered them 10 CUC for the 8 lobsters. A smart polo shirt, a few bars of soap and 3 beers were also thrown in to sweeten the deal. The lads seemed pleased  with this and enjoyed a few rounds of rum  with Liam and Pete. They stayed for nearly an hour and  attempts to make conversation were very difficult when no one spoke anything other than their native tongue. Pete produced his Spanish phrase book and some progress was made, albeit very limited and quit stilted.

It was now getting fairly dark and time, we thought, for them to move on, though they seemed in no hurry. When they did head for home, a lengthy swim of several hundred meters, they left the veggies, offered us the fish and gave us back 5 CUC. We were a bit confused as no one has ever given us back money once a deal has been made. Turned out they simply wanted to have a friendly chat with the people from overseas and make a little money on the side.

Over the next few days we stopped at a few uninspiring mangrove cays. They were all well protected anchorages but with little to keep us there. You can only look at mangroves for so long. Cayo Grenada and Cayo Cuervo were the pick of the bunch, the former having a lovely beach and the ruins of a failed resort on the northern side and the latter a crescent shaped sand spit at one end, a perfect spot for sundowners and a beach fire.

We exchanged a large bottle of Santiago De Cuba 15 yr old premium rum, 4 bars of soap and some old mooring lines for 6 lobsters, 4 plate sized snappers and 1 jumbo snapper at Cayo Grenada, you should have seen the fisherman's’ eyes light up when we gave them the mooring lines. It was like kids at Christmas.  And at  Cayo Cuervo the trade was another bottle of rum, more soap and our crappy old dinghy towel that one of the fisherman really had his eye on, for a half bucket of shrimp and 4 good sized  lobsters. All these fisherman worked on state owned well weathered trawlers. They were extremely friendly and  most appreciative of anything we offered them.

  

Leaving the cays we made for a reef pass at  Canal Boca Grande where we stopped for a delicious fresh-as-it-gets shrimp, lobster and crusty bread lunch and a swim in the sparkling clear waters, the best we’d seen since leaving Cabo Cruz.

An overnight passage of 100 miles would see us arriving in the city of Cienfuegos with an early morning  birthday celebration for Liam, as he notched up another year.                                    

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Santiago de Cuba

11th – 13th March 2014

Santiago de Cuba is the country’s second largest city, though it’s more like a big town really and is about 12 kms inland from the marina.

There is no bus service from the marina, but plenty of people wanting to make money,so we caught a “taxi “to town. The trip in was a real eye opener as was the taxi we travelled in, an old blue Russian Lada. It didn’t take much grey matter or eyesight to work out that it’s use by date had long ago expired. Horse drawn carts and buggies, cars of yesteryear, bicycles, trucks that looked they should have a cargo of cattle rather than people and even a poor guy in a wheelchair shared the pothole littered roads. Dozens of people stood on corners waiting for either a bus or a lift to somewhere. Many simply  walked. As we got nearer to the city centre  the narrow streets lined with ageing and abandoned buildings became frenetic with traffic and people.

Our driver dropped us at the Parque Cespedes, a pretty square in the centre of town which seemed to double as a melting pot of Cuban life and sound.  Bounded by a Cathedral on one side and the Parisian looking Hotel de Casa Granda on the other, in the heat of the day we adjourned to the terrace bar of the hotel to soak up the atmosphere and partake in the national drink, a refreshing mint infused mojito.

               

From our vantage point the comings and goings in and about the square was fascinating. Elderly couples sat chatting on the park benches, tight fitting lyrcra clad women in high heels, who looked more like they were off to a disco than the shops, rushed by, tourists congregated on the corners ready to follow their guides around town and musicians stood on the footpath below  playing catchy Cuban tunes. It was a feast for our senses.  With tummies a rumbling we left the hotel in search of  what we’d been told was the quintessential  Cuban lunchtime staple, the 5 Peso pizza. It didn't take us long to find a hole-in-the-wall  place selling them, actually  it was the the queue that gave it away.

Set up inside the front room of someone’s home where they have installed a pizza oven the choice was limited to queso, (cheese)  or queso and jambon, (cheese and ham). We woofed down the latter and it was really yummy, albeit a little on the greasy side. Given the lack of fast food chains in Cuba the “front room” option seems to be the logical alternative to the likes of subway, dominos and starbucks.  Ok, it was time to walk off the fast food.

It was a real shame that the cathedral which read so well in the guide book was closed for renovations and looked like it had been for some time, instead we decided to saunter down a few of the busier back streets. There were plenty of people out and about and plenty of shop fronts, but once we went in for a gander there really wasn’t much inside. One place sold nothing but shampoo and soap, another a  mix of canned foods, clothing and electrical goods which were exhorbently priced, try a toasted sandwich maker for over $200. There were plenty of potential customers but not many seemed to be buying.  The agropecurario (fruit and vegetable market)  on the whole was quite good but the meat section left a bit to be desired having no refrigeration but an abundance of flies. It was an interesting scene to say the least.

          

Walking back to our pre-arranged pick up point we passed many folk  playing games of chess and dominos right on the footpath, but it was the queue outside the Etecsa communications shop  that really caught our attention. It stretched down the street and around the corner. There had to be over 50 people standing there in the heat. Cubans are denied access to the internet, no facebook, yahoo, or Gmail, imagine that. They can however send emails via the government controlled intranet system. Foreigners on the other hand are allowed internet  access on fixed terminals, not wi-fi, via most major hotels for a fee of  anywhere between 4 –12 CUC per hour and it’s usually not at the warp speeds we’re used to back home.

                      

Wanting to sample the culinary delights of Cuban cuisine that evening we dined at one of the local  Paladares. Noel, our taxi driver suggested one close by the marina. It was a small family run restaurant   perched on a hillside, and owned by a guy named Michelangelo. Apparently these type of restaurants can only employ family members who are not paid a wage. They usually provide a better class of meal than the state owned eateries but still have to pay the government a monthly tax which you can bet is a good chunk of their earnings. The sunset view of Santiago harbour with a backdrop of mountains was  absolutely stunning and the food and mojitos were pretty good too.

Next morning we headed out early for a morning tour of the lighthouse, where a  lowly 85 watt globe lights the way for mariners and  the fort we’d sailed past at the harbour entrance. Castillo de San Pedro de la Roca del Morro is a Unesco World Heritage Site and has all the usual features of a Spanish fort. Massive batteries, lookout towers and a plethora of cannons.. Built in 1663 and completed in in the early 1700’s it’s original  purpose  was to protect the harbour and city from pirates. Sadly it was completed a little too late to be of use for that, and in the 1800’s was converted into a prison and stayed that way till the 1960’s. Today it’s a museum, as are all the Spanish forts we’ve seen in various countries. Unfortunately there was no signage anywhere in english leaving a lot of guess work on our part as to the use of many of the rooms.

              

                               

Everyone knows that Cuba is famous for colourful old American cars, Fidel Castro, the missile crisis and fine cigars but there’s  also something else… the music! They have a  rich tradition no doubt emanating from their Spanish heritage. They love to make lots of noise and sing and dance the salsa with unbridled enthusiasm. We were keen to soak up the experience. So we asked Noel, our now-regular taxi driver, to take us into town for a night. We set out at 8pm for the most popular music house in town, the Casa de la Trova, only the show  didn’t commence until 10 pm, bugger! No problemo, he had a back-up in mind and a few minutes later we pulled up outside  Casa de las Tradiciones, another popular night spot where the band was due to kick off in about 30 minutes, that worked for us.

      

We figured this place was seriously popular as there were dozens of people milling about outside, though we soon discovered they were spectators gathered to witness a few local lads being busted for playing poker, it’s illegal here to gamble for money.  So we joined in the crowd and watched as a few youngish looking men were led from a house, frisked, cuffed and squeezed into the rear seat of the police car, also a Russian Lada (notice there is a trend here with cars) and whisked away for interrogation. We were told they would all serve time for their crime, though not sure for how long.

After this short distraction we took our places in the club, a prime table right near the stage, an excellent spot. Following a round of mojitos the band appeared, 7 or 8 of them, and away they went into a robust rendition of their broad repertoire They knew a lot of songs, but to our ears most sounded like the one before. Anyway, the place was pumping, people  were dancing and mojitos flowing. Our friend Pete certainly reveled in the atmosphere, he even paid the 2 CUC cover charge for a couple of sad looking ladies to come in and enjoy the scene. In appreciation of his kind gesture he was soon enticed onto the dance floor by one lovely girl and he fell into step right away. Man can that boy salsa! Would you believe he owned that dance floor for a while? Well, almost, he was pretty good though and it was fun to watch him and the other revelers strut their stuff. When the band took a break  the hat was passed around and we were asked to buy their latest (probably only) CD, or make a donation. We now own yet another terrific CD of local talent to add to our growing worldwide collection. Following a few more mojitos our diver Noel arrived, he had one too and then we headed for home, happy to have had our very first experience of Cuban music and dance, it was a terrific night all round.

An early morning dash to the veg market, paying the marina bill and getting our despacho from the harbour master for our next  main port took up the bulk of our last day. By the time all that was done we had to rethink that nights’ destination. We chose Chivirico only 30 miles further to the west. It involved a reef entrance and a skinny turn into a well protected lagoon so we’d have to get our skates on to get there in good light. Even though we’d only spent three days in Santiago we  felt it was quite enough and were  very glad to be leaving the marina. GWTW was now covered in a yellowish coloured stains courtesy of the fallout from one of the industrial chimneys further down the harbour.

We had the anchor down in Chivirico by 5pm. Loud music was flooding the air from a small waterfront bar so the always eager Pete volunteered to be dinghy captain  for the reconnaissance mission. Maybe it would be good place for a snack and a drink, we were developing a taste for those mojitos. A small crowd gathered on the dock as Pete approached in the dinghy ready to tie up. He never got the chance. The crowd parted and a drop dead  gorgeous, pink clad senorita leapt into the dinghy. Pete was speechless in more ways than one. So being the gentleman that he is  he took the young lady for a spin around the bay before swinging past GWTW to show off his newly acquired friend. We weren’t sure that he’d even come back to get us! After a half hour he returned to the mothership alone, his lady friend gone home. We all ventured back in for a tasty plate of camarones (shrimp) and the boys had a not so great mojito, actually they didn’t know what it was due to a huge language barrier with our waitress despite Pete’s best efforts with his spanish phrase book.

 

 

Where to next? We’ll be travelling further along the south coast heading west and stopping at some isolated towns and cays,  so stay tuned.

                                              

 

 

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Money Matters for the Uninitiated

10th March 2014

Before we could start exploring the city of Santiago de Cuba or the rest of the country for that matter the Canadian dollars which we'd purchased in Florida needed to be exchanged for Cuban cash. Although we all live in the 21st century, Cuba is still a pretty much a cash society and uses two types of currencies simultaneously. The Cuban Convertible Peso ( CUC for short ) and the Moneda Nacional (Peso). This can definitely be a bit mind boggling 'till you get your head around what can be bought with which type of money.

CUC is the nation's hard currency used mostly by tourists in shops, restaurants, accommodation and for getting from A to B. While the Peso is mostly the peoples' money and is used for purchasing meat, vegetables, bread, eggs and meals in what are known as Pesos restaurants, and for travel on local buses. 24 pesos = 1 CUC and 1 CUC = $CAN 0.85 and even less if you are changing $USD.

Foreign currency can be exchanged at either a Cadeca (money changer)or in a Bank. This is yet another lesson in the art of patience as both usually have very long queues stretching out on to the pavement. Our friend Pete stood in a bank queue for more than 2 hours to change money. Banks can also give a cash advance on a non US issued Visa credit card and the ATM's, if they are working, can also be used. But be warned if you are planning a trip to this country that even though the advertising tag line for MasterCard is "priceless", on this island it should read "useless". Not love nor money or anything else can be bought with it, be it at a bank or an ATM. We found that out the hard way after many unsuccessful attempts in the bank and at a few ATM's. Good thing we still had a Visa card with us.

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