On the Buses...Finally

Well, you'll be glad to know, we made it out of Havana on our third attempt.

We saw a couple of the smaller towns with their beautiful cobbled streets, had an overnight stay in, and a walk through, the mountains near Trinidad before stopping at the enormous Che Guevara mausoleum, complete with a very prominent poster for Hugo Chavez, on the way back but it was a very serious place, more them showing us propaganda than allowing us a proper gander...

It wouldn't be Cuba though, without one last hiccough.  When we got back to our (new) hotel in Havana, they had no electricity in the the rooms we'd been booked into.  It was explained however, that they'd moved us to a better hotel nearby.  They then organised for the porter to wheel our bags the six blocks to the hotel, while we walked along behind trying not to look like colonial stooges.  And, to be fair, the alternative place was impressive, overlooking the Plaza d'Armas.

The first book-seller starts to set up in Plaza d'Armas

So, a last mojito/daiquiri in one of Hemmingway's haunts before heading back to Panama, which, I must say, has lost its allure, now that I've discovered that Panama hats are actually from Ecuador.  And from there it would be just a single night stay before flying on to Buenos Aires.

And so ended our Cuban misadventure, but it was great fun and definitely a place to come back to.  Meanwhile, in spite of my belief that a mojito does cover most of the food groups, I do need to reacquaint myself with not drinking rum cocktails at lunchtime...

Rubics Cuba (Part II)

The afternoon before we were due to depart on our trip, a message, slipped under the door, informed us that the trip had been cancelled.  So, another trip to the travel agent, another set of online bookings and non-working cancellation web-pages later, we were advised that that there was another trip leaving in two days' time...

By now, we were celebrities in our hotel.  This is probably why, the next day, instead of having breakfast downstairs, we were ushered up to the 9th floor, which according to their service guide, is where the VIPs have breakfast.

Given the amount of time we're spending trying to leave our hotel, it seems reasonable to try and say more about the place.  All of the (bigger) hotels have a wall of fame with fabulous black and white photos of the celebrities who've stayed there.  Ours is very literary with not only Hemmingway and Simenon having been special guests, but Room 501 being the very room in which the main protaganist from Our Man in Havana was placed, "The Graham Greene" room as the receptionist calls it.

But on a less literary note, apparently Al Capone, Lucky Luciano and Meyer Lansky, "The Mob's Accountant" (with a face only a mother could love) also stayed here.  One can only wonder what it must have been like in those days.

Hemingway at the Floridita

Hemming way deserves special mention - he seems to have drunk, and presumably been drunk, in every bar in town with all manner of cocktails named after him.  One even has a life-size statue of him propping up one end of the bar.








Infrastructure is fragile to say the least, so wi-fi is only limited (and expensive at $8.00 for an hour of unreliable access).  My bathroom shower has a 50 degree sign over the hot water tap but having had a couple of showers, I wonder if this is in fahrenheit or perhaps refers to some aspirational target.

View over the avenue towards the Malecon

So, a further 2 days in Havana before we would make our third attempt to leave.

Still, when you're sitting on a rooftop bar watching the World Cup with a gentle breeze blowing while sipping a mojito, it's not a bad place to be, despite the difficulties.

Rubics Cuba

It is difficult to organise things in Cuba.  It's a very piecemeal process.  Nonetheless, we decided to take the train down to Santiago and then to fly back from there.

The first problem was that the flights were booked out.  The second problem was that it was unclear if the train was running.  The original train, "The French train", which was normally the only reliable service, had been out of commission since February.  So, we were left with booking a 15 hour bus-ride, starting at 7.30 am.

Hotels had to be booked separately because the travel agent we were dealing with, who admittedly wasn't especially helpful, didn't have a working phone on her desk.  We did this online although no confirmation of the booking was received.  In order to contact the booking agency on their website, you had to enter one of those annoying numbers/picture values.  As annoying as those things are, it's even more annoying when the thing you are meant to be entering isn't actually displayed...  I'm guessing they get very few complaints!

Nonetheless, we checked out of our hotel at 6.45, grabbed a quick coffee and a roll and waited.  And waited.  Waited until 9.30 am, when, upon seeing a guy from the same company come into the hotel, we asked him about the bus to Santiago.  He duly called the head office for us and told us that we had just missed the bus but they would get it to come back to the hotel. Of course, this was sheer fiction and at 10.30 am, we went back to the reception counter and asked if we could check back in.

It now remained to try and cancel our bookings.  Luckily, there was an agency office near our hotel and, even more luckily, this time, we were dealing with an extremely competent woman.  She was able to make all of the required phone calls (a surprising number of these) and even persuaded the hotel in Santiago to cancel the online booking over the phone because of the website issues.  We then booked tickets to nearby Trinidad but there were no departures for another three days.

View from our hotel - with which we became increasingly familiar

So, another 3 nights in Havana.  Not the worst outcome by any stretch of the imagination - there are far worse places to be stranded - but it does show why people travel here on organised tours...

Havana Good Time

Having cracked that joke a thousand times back home, I could hardly pass it up, now I'm actually here.

First impressions of Havana are that, like everywhere else around here, it's very hot.  I don't know about the April sun in Cuba but this June sun is blazing.  And, seemingly irrespective of the temperature, the afternoons are thundery affairs with the storms sometimes rolling in, sometimes just providing a lightning show.

Our visa was a painless experience at the check-in counter in Panama - and we could have even apparently got one at the departure gate but that seemed, even to us retrospective planners, to be cutting it a little fine.

The ride in from the airport sees you pass very little traffic.  Then, when you do see cars, at least half of them appear to be American cars from the 1950's.  Now I had heard about this but it only registers when you see it.  There's a wide array of transport available, very little of it modern but some of it looking magnificent nonetheless.

Cuba Classico

Cab rank Havana style

As for Havana itself, the old city is something quite remarkable.  Not so much faded glamour as crumbling grandeur.

View of the Capitolio from the Malecon end of town

Stately and ornate buildings alongside a grid of narrow laneways and piazzas making up the largest old city I've ever seen.

This report brought to you by
our man in Havana

Every doorway seems to have somebody sitting in it and every passer-by you meet seems to have a secret line on a cigar factory deal, which, regrettably, they are very anxious to share with you.

As well as the old town, there's a great strip along the waterfront, the Malecon, which looks like something out of a movie set.

Our other man in Havana

As the sun falls, while we marvel at what we've seen, the locals seem to just be enjoying the simple things in life.

 

You Say Panama...

The first impression that one gets of Panama is that it is a a much bigger, modern city that you might have imagined.  There are a lot of skyscrapers and plenty more under construction.



 






Later, on exploring it more, you discover that it actually has a very under-publicised old city, which is a great area to walk through. 

And it even has a pub brewing its own beer.  Now we're talking!   

La Rana Dorada

Farewelling our tour guide

And drinking...







Unfortunately, exploring Panama isn't entirely straightforward, as there are very few street name signs but my main difficulty with Panama was in saying Pana-manian.  My brain just wanted to say Pa-namian even though I can see that this isn't correct.

I think they should add another "na" in there and called it "Pananama".  That way, they could have the Muppet song as their national anthem.  Imagine that being roared out at the World Cup (minor issue of non-qualification notwithstanding).

From here, it was back to travelling on our own and next stop: Cuba. 

Canal Route Therapy

It had been agreed that we'd stop at the canal on our way to Panama City.  This would save us making a trip out from Panama and would also served to give us a break from the bone jarring bus-ride we were having.  It wasn't that the roads were bad, far from it, but we had a driver who just loved going fast and changing lanes and stopping suddenly.  It was with some relief that we reached the canal for a break.

The canal is in its centenary year, having been completed in 1914.   The idea had first been considered way back in 1524 but was too difficult.  The French had then given it a couple of goes during the late 19th Century but had to abandon the attempts after more than 22,000 people had died and cost over-runs. 

The first thing that strikes you about the canal is how narrow it is.  At first it's hard to imagine a container ship fitting through - I'm sure there are plenty that wouldn't.  That's probably why they're expanding it, with additional locks being added next year. 










Luckily for us, a ship was passing through, so we joined the throngs to watch it make its progress.

The ship moves slowly but inexorably, with rail assistance, towards the lock.

Once it reaches the gates, it waits for the next lock to be filled, the water level on its own side going down at the same time.

All this (along with artificial lakes) is to make up the 26 metre discrepancy between the Pacific and Caribbean ends of the canal.






Once the water on both sides is level, the gates open and the ship moves through.  It takes a ship about 8-10 hours to move through the 77 kms of canal.

It is quite an amazing site to see.  You really get a sense of the engineering marvel that it must have been when it was first built.





The remainder of our bus trip into Panama City was a far more animated affair with everybody much more upbeat after the stop.

Surfin' Safari

A 5 hour bus drive down the mountain and out to the Pacific Coast brought us to surfing hangout,  Santa Catalina.

And within this surfing hangout, we were staying at the Oasis Surf Camp. Now "Camp" is not a word I like to see in a hotel name - it's not saying "Relax".  Give me "View" or "Resort" any day.  After wading across a stream to get there, we were told that 4 of the blokes had to share a hut.  What was that I was saying about camps?   

To be honest, our hut made it look more like we were at Harry Potter camp.

And it wasn't all hard work...

It actually was a surfing beach with good waves and lessons being offered.

Having watched Paul do his best ride first up and then proceed to fall off with increasing rapidity, I realised that I was probably at my surfing peak right there and then.  Taking a lesson would only set the decline in motion, so I had a beer and contemplated my current awesomeness at surfing.

There was no working wi fi at surf Camp - how come the Beach Boys never mentioned this - but, being run by Italians,  there was great pasta!   

And so it was with filled stomachs that we walked back across the river and onto the bus for our final destination: Panama City.