Day 10: Mambo de la Luna: Trinidad, Santa Clara, Cienfuegos, Havana
Our last full day in Cuba. Another wonderful breakfast at the casa before we hit the road. I don’t think I’ve described the breakfasts we’ve been getting, which have all been both substantial and great quality. The usual starter is a bowl or plate of fruit, which has consistently featured mango but can also have guava, pineapple, rock melon, orange, or banana. I’ve been loving the fresh fruit. Then comes some eggs, any way we like, but omelette has been a consistent choice, as we’ve also been given plates of cheese and ham. There’s also usually bread, and today we also had sweet, jam-filled biscuits that looked like dumplings or small pasties.
All of this, plus freshly brewed coffee, and a big jug of fresh juice, generally either mango or guava. While I doubt the average Cuban eats this every day, we’ve been enjoying these spreads.
All of the casas we’ve stayed at have been great, run by friendly people who have done a great job at making us feel welcome. It can’t be easy opening up a room or two in your house to let some comparatively wealthy gringos — who either don’t speak any of your language, or those who know a little and then butcher the crap out of it — stay a couple of days and expect to be looked after. Muchos gracias, all of you.
There were two stops just out of Trinidad. Beberli has been trying his best to teach us about the five rich families who lorded over the area back in the old days when slaves were in fashion, but I can’t say that I find too many stories about rich, self-entitled pricks all that memorable or enlightening. So the first stop out of town is one of the big old houses formerly owned by one of the big old rich families, built on a hill to show how important they were, and also with a great view to keep an eye on all of their miscreant slaves. It certainly had a good view, and a zip-line over the valley for those who want to dangle from a wire 100 feet over a valley while a harness tries to give you the world’s biggest wedgie. It was also quite windy, so we passed up what I’m sure is an enlightening experience.
The second stop was to a large phallus, I mean tower. There are a couple of stories around it. The tallest structure in Cuba used to be a 42-metre tower in Havana. So one day, a rich man decided to overcome his inadequacy by having a 45-metre tower built in order to show all of Cuba how tiny his penis was. Story number two goes along the lines that either this or a different generation of the same family of entitled pricks had two sons, who both had the hots for the same slave woman. The father held a competition for his sons, declared the result a draw, and promptly kept the slave woman for himself, eventually locking her in the tower because hey, women are just possessions, slave women more so, right?
Am I getting the hang of the history or what? See what happens when a town isn’t being burnt to the ground or having its church bells stolen? While L and KDS shopped, I climbed the tower. The climb, up several levels of wooden steps was fairly easy, not because I’m fit but because of the tower’s very open structure, so the breeze made it easier, certainly easier than some narroe, dark and humid Victorian-era towers I’ve climbed. The view was great, too, and would certainly have enabled someone to keep an eye on many slaves.
Then it was Santa Clara, the city of, the monument to, and the final resting place of Ernesto “Che” Guevara. It was here that Che led the final decisive battle of the revolution, and once his remains were found in Bolivia in the 1990s, where they were brought to rest. The monument to Che includes a very large staute and plinth that towers over the square; complete with many steps, quotes, and large murals. One plinth features the text of the letter he wrote to Fidel Castro, to resign from his Cuban job in order to continue the revolution elsewhere.
Under this monument is a museum of Che’s life, from a copy of his birth certificate, to items used at various times until his death in Bolivia. Across from this is the mauseleum, where the remains of Che and a number of others who fought beside him and were killed are interred. No photos allowed, a solemn respectful place.
We also toured a garden where other heroes of the revolution and the battle of Santa Clara are interred. This garden is very well planned, as there are spare blank spaces where the surviving heroes will be interred in the future.
Cuba has a long, proud history of trains. They were one of the first countries to have a proper rail system. In towns they have train-looking vehicles that pull carriages of tourists around. They have some famous railcars on display around the country. There’s a new train that will run from Havana to Santiago de Cuba, it starts today, will seat 700 people, and is at least partly airconditioned, and is a source of much local pride.
And, because it’s Cuba, they occasionally blow them up. In December 1958, the battle of Santa Clara took place, where Che Guevara led a small band of revolutionaries aiming to cut the Spanish supply line to Santiago de Cuba, where Fidel Castro’s troops were fighting the main Spanish garrison. At Santa Clara, Che’s soldiers plonked a tractor on the main trainline and then ambushed the Spanish reinforcement train. As a result Castro took Santiago de Cuba, Batista fled the country, and the rest is the discussed in great detail by folks who know a lot more than me.
After paying our respects to the man who launched many millions of t-shirts, we headed to the slightly less historical town of Cienfuegos, a town whose name, despite it being very hot and sunny today, does not directly have to do with fire. Here we took a stroll around the historical centre, admired the statue of Jose Marti and the various domed buildings, took advantage of the town’s general French style (i.e. porches for shade) and admired the port.
Cienfuegos is pretty dead right now, as it gains most of its business from day trips from cruise ships and there aren’t as many coming to Cuba at the moment. The town might feel different on a different day, as today was so hot even the touts weren’t bothering us.
We then took the taxi to the small peninsula that sticks out into the bay. It’s where the old mansions of the very rich are, now mostly hotels. Many of these large houses certainly look ed like the sort of places rich people built, a total mismatch of styles, turrets, arabesque designs, basically any style you could think of, usually all on the same building.
A quick interruption while three Australians and their guide stop their taxi and walk across a six-lane highway in order to take a picture of a highway sign. We just passed the turn-off to the Australia Sugar Mill, famous for being named for a country on the other side of the world, and also because of its involvement in the Playa Lagos/Bay of Pigs invasion. But why did the four of us cross the road? Because the highway sign simply says, “Australia 1km”.
Where was I? Cienfuegos, town of dubious architectural taste. The mansions/palaces each generally displayed more styles than any building should, but I guess that’s how obscene wealth is often displayed.
Lunch was in a restaurant at the end of the point, with a glorious view of the bay, lots of fresh air, and, well, the sort of prices that come with a view. The food was good. Appetisers of the crunchiest plantain chips we’ve had, and garlic, oil, and parmesan bruscetta. Then was the entree, I had the deep fried taro balls with honey, wonderfully crunchy on the outside, gooey carb goodness within. Then the main was roast pork leg meat, with roast pumpkin and arroz y frijoles. There was also a salad in that list somewhere, plus flan, a shot of banana liqueur, and coffee. Over here, flan is creme caramel, sometimes a slice of a large one, sometimes an individual serve. The food and the view were great, but when combined with water and a mojito each, it was by far the most expensive meal we’ve had in Cuba.
It was also probably the last big cuban meal for the tres amigos, as KDS flies to the US via Toronto early tomorrow morning, I fly out to la manzana grande mid-afternoon, shortly followed by L to Londres. We’ll probably grab a quick snack tonight as we spend the last of our CUC, and then that’s it for Cuba.