Greetings from Havana! I’m writing this offline since there’s virtually no internet here in Cuba. All of these entries will get posted from home after the trip. At the moment, it’s Christmas Eve, though you’d hardly know it. And it’s also the first night of Chanukah, so have a happy one, everyone back home.
Ninjas and airplanes
I left Montreal last night and made the short hop to Toronto. Watarimono, my travel ninja, made himself useful right away, scoring me a standby seat on the earlier flight even on one of the busiest travel days of the year. Let’s hear it for two extra hours of sleep! We landed just before ten, and I caught the airport shuttle to the nearby hotel for a few hours of shut-eye.
This morning my alarm went off at the inhuman hour of 5am. Did I mention this was supposed to be a relaxing vacation? Hah! I got through security in record time, browsed the shops a bit, and boarded my second flight to Havana. Despite being an Air Canada Rouge flight — which I normally avoid like the plague — this one also was quite pleasant. I had the best seat on the plane, behind an exit row with no seat in front of me, so tons of leg room. I was sitting next to a friendly man from London who was going on a cruise with his family. And the flight crew even gave out free Lindt chocolate truffles ’cause it’s Christmas. Not bad, Watarimono.
Let’s do the time warp
We landed in Havana a few minutes ahead of schedule. Immediately I could feel the heat and humidity wash over me. Click your heels, Dorothy; we ain’t in winter anymore. I sped through customs in no time flat — luckily, as it turns out, since people I met later spent hours waiting — and made my way through the chaotic arrivals hall to the money exchange outside. Yay, more standing in line for cash! Just what I wanted after India. Though, unlike India, at least there was a reasonable promise of actually getting cash at the front of this line.
I waited as the queue moved at a snail’s pace — seriously, it took something like five minutes per person — and only when I got to the very front did I see there was a completely free ATM hidden around the corner from the exchange counter. Nobody was using it, but I asked the guard if it worked and he said, American? Nope, I replied, Canadian! In that case, he said, sure, go ahead. Two minutes later, I had a wad of CUCs in my pocket — and at a better exchange rate than the exchange bureau was charging, too. Well, there’s forty minutes wasted. Pro tip to future Havana travellers: skip the line; use the ATM instead.
I got a taxi from the dispatcher, who was easy to identify since he was wearing a yellow and black checkered tie that matched the cabs. I agreed on the fare with the driver, and off we were into the city.
I know it’s a cliché to say that visiting Cuba is like going back in time. And sure, it’s true that there are 1950s-era American cars everywhere (though mixed in with much more common recent-mode Asian and European ones) and old buildings. But the real way this is felt is in the technology, or, rather, lack thereof. Everything at the airport was manual — customs, currency exchange, the taxi stand. No screens or machines taking the place of humans. Also, of course, there’s no internet. It’s not a big deal, but it does feel a bit strange not to scratch that itch of immediately logging on to dash off an “I’ve arrived” email or check Facebook. It’s quite sad how addicted I’ve gotten over the past few years; before that, I didn’t even own a smartphone, let alone travel with one. Incidentally I’ve also noticed that practically every tourist is carrying a Lonely Planet in hard copy version — another throwback to travel from an earlier era.
Anyway, it took about 20 minutes to get from the airport to my casa in Havana Vieja, the historical centre of the city. Along the way, we passed the stadium, palaces, a beautiful cathedral, and lots of colourful buildings and wide, palm-tree-lined boulevards. Plenty of people were out and about in the streets, this being a weekend. I know not all the parts of Havana are as nice as this area, but even so, my first impressions of the city were exceedingly positive.
When I got to the casa, it was just past 1pm. My room wasn’t quite ready yet, so I left my bag with the owner, and went to a paladar to get some lunch. Paladares are Cuba’s quintessential restaurants; in recent years, Cuba started to license private restaurants about five or six years ago, and they popped up everywhere that tourists went, offering slightly better food and service than the grim offerings of the state-run places. Cuba isn’t really known for its food; most places are basic at best. A far cry from India, with its abundant cheap and delicious food. Here, though, a “recommended by TripAdvisor” sticker is like a beacon, advertising to tourists that the place is at least a cut above the government restaurants. While in most countries I avoid such stickers like the plague, here they’re essential because you can’t just google the place for reviews.
Checking out the town
After that, I set out to explore the neighbourhood. Havana is a great city to explore on foot; there’s so much to see just by walking around the streets. I walked through Havana Vieja, taking in the colourful buildings and the once-spectacular architecture that gave a hint to what Havana must have been like in its heyday. But even now, this part of the city, at least, is vibrant and has that Latin American charm.
What I didn’t see was much Christmas kitch. Aside from the odd tree in a hotel lobby, or one fake Santa waiting tables at a tourist trap restaurant, there was hardly a sign anywhere of the holiday. This in stark contrast to, say, Mexico, where they decorated every city, town and square, and even carted in fake snow. Part of this comes down to lack of resources, to be sure; most Cubans don’t have money to waste on frivolities. But part of it is also that, in Communist Cuba, religion in general, and Christmas in particular, is complicated. It was only a few years ago when the Cuban government started nominally allowing the practice of religion, and many Cubans younger than a certain age just didn’t grow up with Christmas. (Incidentally, no sign of Chanukah either. Though I’m not too surprised by that.)
Mid-afternoon, I was hot and thirsty. Sounded like a perfect time for a beer. Luckily, I had walked up to the Plaza Viejo, where one of Cuba’s first craft beers was on tap at a brewery in the square. It was the kind of place where a live band performed while multitudes of locals and tourists sat outside at tables in the square. Well, hey, don’t mind if I do. It was crowded, so when three Cuban guys asked if they could share my table, I agreed, if a little warily. I was half expecting the usual scam of multiple rounds of drinks and the gringa tourist left to foot the bill. But it actually turned out great: the three were friends meeting up for a visit, since one of them was in town from Arizona. They bought me beer in a giant table tap, told me about their boyfriends (so, nope, not trying to hit on me, then), and we had a couple of rounds and some laughs and even a little dancing to the live band. The beer was pretty good, too.
Christmas Eve in Havana
After that, I tried fruitlessly to find a WiFi card, but everywhere I asked was either sold out, or kept directing me to fancy hotels where the cards could only be purchased by guests. At one of them, I met a guy who graciously gave me 5 minutes of his hour so I could dash off a quick email to my folks to let them know I’d arrived safely. Unfortunately, Cuba’s state WiFi sometimes blocks Gmail’s outgoing email server, as I found out from the same guy when my email wouldn’t send. Oops. I opted instead for a Facebook post asking someone to please email them on my behalf. Then, not wanting to burn up too many minutes on his card, I logged off before I could see any replies. I think that’ll be my only WiFi for the week.
Back at the casa, I was faced with the dilemma of what to do for Christmas Eve dinner. I briefly entertained the notion of heading to nearby Chinatown, figuring that it’s the sort of Jewish tradition that might even work in Cuba. But then I met a bunch of British travellers who said they had a reservation at a nearby restaurant, and invited me to join them. We had mediocre food and delicious cocktails, a combination I’m sensing will mark my week here in Cuba.
So, my first day in Havana was pretty great, all things considered. Off to a good start.