CUBA V - SIDE TRIPS
ALL THINGS HEMINGWAY
One
sultry afternoon we hire Ray and his '46 Chevy to taxi us to Finca Vigia
(lookout farm), Hemingway's estate from 1939 to 1960...and Cuba's most popular
national museum. Ray is Italian-Cuban, so we're there in minutes. Ciao
bella! The estate is fifteen acres of old growth tropical banyans, bamboo, ferns
and flowers, pathways with garden seating, lead to a swimming pool, where I
imagine Frank and Ava cavorting with other guests of the Hemingways. The renown
author crossed from Key West to Havana in his boat, Pilar. It sits now in a covered
storage on the 'farm', which I circumnavigate slowly while remembering his love
of fishing. Climbing a tower of four stories (with an incredible Havana view),
I arrive at his famous writing room, where an old typewriter adorns a small rectangular
desk, not nearly as elaborate as the curved inlaid wood one in his study in the
main casa - which is large and sprawling, with a huge party terrace, separate
cocina. His books, stuffed game animals, clothes, art, and memorabilia are throughout
the home as if Ernest had just gone into town for a mohito on the rooftop of
the Hotel Ambos Mundos. It was here in this oasis that Hemingway penned four
best-sellers.[1] I
imagine living here years ago...and muse that even I could write a best seller
here.
Cojimar was another of
Hemingway's haunts, a small fishing village and inspiration for his story of
Nobel fame, the Old Man and The Sea.
Now the town is made famous by the writer's tale. As we taxi downhill towards
Cojimar, I glimpse the young boy, carrying Santiago's fishing gear, walking
down this very street towards the cafe and the small boat, harbored in the
ocean's crook, by the seawall. We order a Crystal[2] at
La Terrazza, the restaurant/bar where Ernest stopped after a day on the water.
There a large wall mural depicts the story of the huge marlin, battled by the
protagonist. I walk to the square, where a bust of Hemingway stands, as a young
boy skips by, carrying his just-caught shark.
Like the famous hotel, Finca Hemingway, and a few 'Papa' bars in Havana,
Cojimar is made famous by an American writer who lived and wrote twenty years
in Cuba, over fifty years ago.
VIÑALES[3]
Like the other eleven World Heritage
sites in Cuba[4],
Viñales is on everyone's 'don't miss' list, so we head off to the Valley. Passing small farms and a large lake, acacia and date
palms. goats, pigs. and cattle, we spy an old Chevy just off the highway. It
looks like it's been there waiting for parts for fifty years. The road is
excellent, with two lanes on each side of a landscaped divide. We pass corn,
bananas, rice paddies, grains and processing plants. vegetable gardens and
screen houses, fields. Orchards of citrus and pine. Mango groves line the road,
and we arrive in the quaint town of Viñales
midday...to a downpour. As we disembark, we are mobbed by a throng of casa
owners and tour drivers, hawking theirs. Ignoring them (we have reserved ahead
for a casa), we dodge flash flooding in the streets, ducking under a stranger's
porch, where we are immediately invited in to wait out the rain. The casa particulares
we look for is across the street, which has become a river, but within moments,
we are settled in, and the sun is out. We lunch a block away at Casa de Don
Thomas, another architectural gem, built in 1822, now the best restaurant in
town. The waiter speaks fluent (university) English and dreams of going to Great
Britain.
Viñales
Valley is exquisite - Mother Nature showing off. A national parc, declared
a World Heritage site in 1999, the valley is a geological wonder, framed by
limestone hills and mogotes[5],
so lush and fertile it also grows the best tobacco in the world and is dotted
with tobacco fields and drying houses. We visit one on our valley tour with a
Russian cabbie in his ugly Lada. Later, strolling around town then hiking to
the top of a knoll, we take our cameras for a tour of the amazing vistas
throughout the area.
Duano,
son-in-law of the señora of our casa, piles us in his classic '49
Oldsmobile, and we head out of town to the beach at Cayo Jutias, fifty
kilometers away. En route we drive through a beautiful caves valley, observe
thatched houses, horse and buggies, oxen pulling plows and carts, old cars,
bicycles, rural people. There's a causeway to the island, where we are charged
$5 (tourist price) for access. It's overcast by the time we arrive, and Manuel's
coconuts are welcomed as we dodge another storm, heading back within a couple
of hours.
Back
the next day from the sprawling beauty of Viñales, Havana feels like an old
friend, City on the bay, where we spend a few more days, exploring the
neighborhoods, shooting historic buildings and old cars, enjoying the music and
dance in the parks and squares. The habaneros are sweet, seem happy. We begin
to wind down from our busy lives. Like so much in Cuba, Viñales provides a
breather, a break, a proverbial hammock to enjoy the passage of a time that has
slowed to the pace of the 50s.
BEACHES!!
One
cannot describe Cuba without paying homage to its stunning beaches. Uncrowded,
scenic, safe, stretches of sand invite to water which is crystal clear and
perfect for swimming, diving, snorkeling, surfing...depending on location.
During our first week in Habana, we walk to Parc Centrale and take a $3 bus to
Playas del Estes, a few miles of beaches about thirty minutes out of town.
Heaven - a cool bus on a hot day, driving along the coast, and arriving at a
dune, which we hike over to a turquoise sea on a sandy beach: Santa Maria. The
beach chairs with thatched umbrellas are $2 - more than the cost of a cold
beer, .50 less than a mohito. Salad and fries are another $1.85 (with tip). The
band is sweet.
Outside
Trinidad, we discover Playa Ancon, another treasure, sprawling along the coast.
But our favorite beach is Varadero - 13 kilometers of eye-searing aqua along a
wide swath of powder white sand. One of the best days of our month is a day
spent under a shade tree on Varadero Beach, swimming, reading, playing a bit of
volleyball, swimming again, re-applying.
Varadero
is in a special 'touristic zone', and until last November there were no casas
particulares allowed, only hotels. Nor could Cubans enter the zone unless they
were working. Now they come to enjoy the beach like tourists. We stay in the
central part of Varadero, away from the big hotels where Canadians and
Europeans hang, and where a boom market keeps the government construction at
breakneck pace. Our room is a block from the beach - in the central part where
the beach is nearly empty, except for a few locals. Every night features a
mind-blowing sunset, and from Hemingway sites to Viñales Valley to all the beaches
and valleys, we are awed every day by the sheer beauty that is Cuba.
[1] For Whom the Bell Tolls, To Have and Have Not,
Islands in the Stream, and The Old
Man and The Sea, for which he won Nobel and Pulitzer prizes.
[2] Fabulous Cuban beer
[3] (pronounced
'Biñales')
[4] Cuba's UNSECO world Heritage sites:
Archaeological Landscape of the First Coffee
Plantations in the South-East of Cuba (2000),
Historic Centre of Camagüey (2008),
Old Havana and its Fortifications (1982),
San Pedro de la Roca Castle, Santiago de Cuba (1997),
Trinidad and the Valley de los Ingenios (1988),
Urban Historic Centre of Cienfuegos (2005)
Viñales Valley (1999),
Alejandro de Humboldt National Park (2001),
Desembarco del Granma National Park (1999),
National Schools of Art, Cubanacán
(2003), Ciénaga de Zapata National Park (2003), Reef System in the Cuban Caribbean (2003)
[5] Round-topped rock formations, over a million
years old, feature caves and underground caverns
