Journey to Playa Giron

One last dusty walk through Boca, dragging our rolling suitcases behind, and then a brief wait for the nickel bus to the Viazul staton in Varadero. Goodbye, sweet Boca! We had purchased our tickets days before. Good thing, too, because the station was mobbed with tourists attempting either to buy tickets or to check in.

We arrived in Varadero just under an hour early for our 2:30 departure. We had hoped to purchase as many tickets as needed for upcoming bus trips. A sign at the ticket counter said to check in. We had two tasks ahead of us that might require some Spanish, so Craig sat with our luggage and I joined the “ticket line,” a disorganized jumble of sweating bodies, all impatient, all confused. For at least forty-five minutes, we all rubbed elbows and sweaty forearms, eagerly awaiting contact with one of two harried Viazul agents. Clearly, nothing was happening quickly.

Finally, ten minutes before our bus was due to depart, I reached the head of the pack. For some reason —-ancient computer system, glitchy software, inadequate bandwidth?—- each task took forever. The frustrated but cheerful agent was only able to punch in three or four key strokes before the screen would freeze. This job obviously required a large measure of patience and persistence. Finally, a few more keystrokes and check in was accomplished. Next task: an attempted ticket purchase for our Vinales to Havana run in a few days.

Clickety clack chattered her long nails on the keyboard, patiently impatient. Boom! Four more key strokes, then nada. Clickety clack… Boom! A few more keystrokes on the grainy, antiquated screen. Clickety clack… Even the bus driver came to see what was taking so long. I was beginning to get antsy, even though I knew that Craig was loitering outside the bus to make sure I didn’t get left behind. Finally, I accomplished this one proactive ticket purchase and boarded the bus feeling great relief.

At some point during the ticketing ordeal, I realized that another ticket I had hoped to buy—-Cienfuegos to Vinales—- just does not exist. Viazul buses travel from Vinales to Cienfuegos, but not the other direction. Go figure… We had planned on three nights in Playa Giron and one night in Cienfuegos to get a peek at this lovely colonial city, but also to catch a bus to our next stop on the journey, Vinales. All accommodations had already been booked, and now I had purchased the tickets from Vinales back to Havana, without a clue how we would get to Vinales in the first place. Well, we would have plenty of time to think about this situation on the bus to Playa Giron. More on that in another post!

Our Viazul bus from a later run, from Havana to Vinales.

No, it's not a car show; it's just Cuba.

Viazul buses are clean and comfortable, if you can overlook the stray crumbled paper between seats and the abandoned beer bottle in the back seat pocket. I had a moment of trepidation at the padlocked bathroom at the back of the bus. No problem.

The bus stopped about halfway at a rest stop, a tourist watering hole with handicrafts for sale, bathrooms, cheap shots of rum (yes, we did), sandwiches, and a variety of drink options: juices, beer, mixed drinks, bottled water. Tourist prices, of course. We were glad we had filled our water bottles before leaving Boca de Camarioca.

Of course, no matter where you go you are likely to see lovely old classics like this one!

Craig awaiting his shot of "ron"

The view from the bus was fascinating: little pueblos, miles and miles of uncultivated land, and huge Soviet-era apartment buildings standing like strange monuments surrounded by fields of cultivated farmland. It was an entertaining parade of unexpected sights on and along the freeway.

After miles of tantalizing glimpses of the Bahia de Cochinos (Bay of Pigs), the bus rolled to a stop in little Playa Giron, currently not a site of United States interference, but rather a dive and snorkeling mecca, and also home to Museo Giron. We had no idea where our casa might be and had little desire to wander the hot streets of an unfamiliar town in search of our lodging. A pedicab at 1 CUC$ each sounded like a bargain. The driver was familiar with “Guanaba’s Nest,” so he loaded and strapped down our luggage and off he peddled. It turned out to be a mere quarter mile or so, but we were happy for the ride.

Taxi?  Yes, please!

Across from the bus stop: Museo Giron, complete with armored vehicles and aircraft on the front lawn

Make a right at the intersection. Guanaba's Nest is a hundred feet ahead on the right!

“Guanaba’s Nest” looked bright and cheerful. Our congenial hosts, Yudy and Risber (Yes, he explained, his mom just made up his hame) welcomed us with wonderful hospitality, including coffee or a glass of juice. Judy showed us our air conditioned room and private bathroom, completed the necessary passport check for their documentation, handed over keys, and gave us plenty of helpful advice about snorkel and dive sites close by.

We had really arrived!

Continue to "Playa Giron"
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Varadero, la Ultima Playa

Varadero: exceeding expectations

Gorgeous white sand beaches as far as the eye can see. Every shade of Caribbean blue. Gentle waves. Predictable bottom contour. On-shore wind. Bikinis and Braun. Children playing. Families laughing. Wind-powered water sports. What’s not to love? This place just about has it all—- perfect for action and relaxation.

Craig embarks on a long beach walk

On our first visit to Varadero, while Craig strolled down the beach, I stretched out on my sarong in the shade of a palm tree. How blissfully relaxing! As I lay, completely relaxed, I began to hear the familiar sounds of an approaching family. They gathered under nearby shade and loud negotiation commenced—- in Spanish, of course. I understood next to nothing. Within minutes of loud discussion (I mused about chickens cackling, roosters crowing, and raucous barnyard noises), a couple of young folks, teens I thought, ran happily for the water and plunged in fully clothed. Soon, the whole clan but two were splashing around. Finally the youngest hold-out, an eight year old girl got captured, carried to the beach, and in she went. By this time I was sitting up enjoying the spectacle and chatting with the only dry one, the dad who had remained in the shade. In the water splashed his wife, two daughters, a couple of cousins and the wife of a cousin. They had not planned on going to the beach, but who can resist! Later, this lively bunch escorted Craig and I to the correct place to catch our nickel bus back to Boca de Camarioca.

La Familia, wet and happy

Peaceful view from my palm tree

A swimmer bobs while girls stroll, a policeman checks his phone,

and folks gather around a fisherman

You don't have to stroll far to find other ways to play

What’s not to love about Varadero? Only the prices, I suppose, but it’s relative. Compared to Boca de Camarioca, Varadero is expensive, but not compared to other gorgeous beaches around the world. Varadero is less expensive but more beautiful than 7 Mile Beach on Grand Cayman, Waikiki on Oahu, Hawaii, and South Beach in Miami, Florida.

Spotted on the way to our bus:

Pastors for Peace, a US group that sponsors

yearly Cuba trips to protest the embargo

We experienced the best of both worlds by staying in Boca de Camarioca. We thoroughly enjoyed our 30 minute ride to and from Varadero on the nickel bus and two glorious days at la ultima playa. Each day, after four or five hours in the sun, we were ready to return to our quaint casa by the sea in Boca.

Killing time with a phone

Typical Varadero bus stop

Lovely Varadero, goodbye!

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Boca de Camarioca

Lining the winding streets, the stone and concrete, chunky casas of Boca de Camarioca, one and two stories in height mostly, are homes for some 7,000 people, and vacation stays for folks like us. Nestled along the northeast coast on a big little river between Matanzas and Varadero, about an hour east of Havana, this quaint town transported us back in time. Back to a time when chickens scratched in roadside dirt, folks rocked on front stoops, dogs napped in the road, neighbors chatted over side fences, and laundry flapped on ropes like colorful navigation flags. To add to the magical mix of old and new that is modern Cuba, horse-drawn carts and buggies transport workers, tourists, produce for sale, garbage, building materials, and children to and from school. Passing vendors sing out their wares——“Pan suave!”  “Galletes!”  “Pina fresca!”

I loved rushing down the stairs to buy fresh and inexpensive produce: papaya, pineapple, cabbage, tomatoes, onion, garlic, peppers, lettuce, and a taro root vegetable called Cubans call malanga (I think). We listened every morning for "Pan suave!" and I would rush down to buy fresh bread and queso. I was ridiculously delighted with my purchases, but I never did remember to take a bag with me.

Eating on the cheap, but not suffering!

Our main living space

Lovely bathroom

Workable kitchen

Private bath off the bedroom

Nice interior, but I spent most of my casa time out here!

At the far east bend of Boca’s coast-hugging lane, we found our casa particular, “Casa Bella Vista,” well-named for the beautiful view of beach and sea from this clean and comfortable 2nd story apartment. We loved the view, the sun, the sound of the surf, and the parade of pedestrians and curiosities flowing below our terrace.

Look carefully and you'll see the morning garbage collector with his wheel barrow.

Spear fishermen returning.

One of several jeeps taking tourists on an 

adventure to little Boca de Camarioca.

We attempted snorkeling at the beach only a few hundred feet away, but the wind and waves had stirred up sediment making it difficult to see, and stirred up my anxiety. I decided I need clearer water and gentler waves to feel comfortable snorkeling.

Why we wear water shoes

The little playa in front of our casa

There’s a small park just at the west side of the river where townsfolk and tourists can connect to wifi, logging on with a small card—- if the system isn’t down or overloaded. It’s common in many big public city parks across Cuba to see dozens of people hunched over their devices. There are more than 350 public wifi spots across Cuba, with more than 50 in Havana. Even little Boca has one. All wifi spots are operated by ETECSA. The cards cost 1.50 CUC apiece and allow one hour of connectivity.

In Boca de Camarioca the scene is much enhanced by the incongruity of horse-drawn transportation clop-clopping in the background.

Many children travelled to school on horse-drawn carts like this, but also on bicycles and electric scooters.

Not too many people on the park benches in the morning, but the streets were bustling

as folks headed for work and children for school.

Boca has the added advantage of proximity to Varadero—- a story for another post.

Nightly aerial display over our terrace

Good night little pueblo

Continue to "Varadero: la Ultima Playa"
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Havana: Day of Tours, Afternoon

Second: Alfonso’s  Tour: Havana, Key to the New World

The first tour had started and ended late, so we ended up with 13 minutes for a super speedy shower (me) before meeting Alfonso at the entrance to our building. Oh, how we appreciated that service! We climbed into his car, a Russian “Maravich?” and were off, thoroughly enjoying the sights and conversation along the way with Alfonso, a twenty-two year old student of history and the tourism industry.

Highlights of our journey...






Castillo de la Real Fuerza, an antiquity that houses a maritime museum replete with numerous finely crafted models of many ships that sailed and sunk in the waters around Cuba, as well as artifacts and treasure—-yes, gold and silver—- brought up from the deep. The 4 meter long model of Santisima Trinidad, a ship built in Havana in the 1760s that fought at the Battle of Trafalgar, was absolutely stunning!

Santisima Trinidad

 Castillo de los Tres Santos Reyes Magnos del Morro, or El Morro for short, high on a rocky bluff on the east side of Havana harbor, is a massive fortress that was part of a triangular defense system created to protect Havana (and Spanish gold) from marauding pirates and foreign invaders. Many rooms were closed to us on this particular day, but I did not regret for a moment our 6 CUC each  entrance fee. We loved learning about this fort, erected between 1589 and 1630, with its 3m thick walls and deep, dry protective moat, and wind and wave-smashed lighthouse.




Centuries ago, as Spain plundered the Caribbean, collecting the spoils in La Habana for twice-yearly shipments to the Old Country, the importance of this fort protecting the entrance to the harbor cannot be overstated. It has great historical significance and offers breathtaking views of the wind-whipped Atlantic, boats and ships entering and exiting the harbor, and the dreamy shoreline of Havana: the industrial portion, Old Havana, Centro, and in the distance the tall buildings of Vedado, all wrapped round by the sea.

Flags of many nations

We were lucky to get to see inside the lighthouse. The cheerful lighthouse keeper showed us the cubbies containing flags from the many nations of the world whose ships enter the inner harbor. When a ship is entering the harbor, the keeper hoists the appropriate flag. The United States flag is neatly folded in one of those cubbies.

The view out to sea was stunning. We happened to be up in the lighthouse when a cruise ship departed. Such a contrast of old and new!

View to sea from the lighthouse window as the cruise ship departs Havana.

Revolution-era anti-aircraft gun

The ancient guns and gun mounts are rough and rusty. There were many of these on the ramparts of El Morro. Many are severely corroded from their exposure to salt and sea air.

Goodbye, El Morro!  We waited, warm but waning sun, for Alfonso to bring the car. On to the next stop...

 

Craig and Alfonso, remains of US U-2 spy plane in background

Memorial to the Cuban Missile Crisis on the outskirts of the Fortaleza de San Carlos de la Cabana, second of Havana’s two largest forts. There we saw a Soviet Mig-21 jet, an anti-aircraft missile launcher of the same specifications as that used to shoot down the U-2 US spy plane in 1962, and some of the shredded remains of that plane. It was fascinating to hear from Alfonso about the intense fear in Cuba of US aggression during that tense time following the Bay of Pigs invasion by US-backed Cuban mercenaries in 1961. 

The site was closed for the day, so this was as close as we could get to the spy plane.

 

Havana Christ, a giant statue fashioned from Italian Carrera marble, is an imposing figure looking out over the harbor. From this vantage we had a jaw-dropping view of Havana at sunset.

Sigh...

At last, it was time to go home to our fifth floor Havana Centro apartment and say goodbye to Alfonso. What a wonderful experience!

Alfonso is an astute student of history, knowledgeable and insightful. We enjoyed our discussions about the different historical interpretations of past events. We appreciated his emphasis on verifiable facts and his insight into aspects of ambiguity. You'll find wonderful photos and much historical information on his blog at: havanatraces.wordpress.com. Alfonso's tours are offered through Airbnb, including his newest, The Golden Mile.

I am convinced that Cubans, in general, know more about the United States, our values, culture and history than US citizens know about Cubans and their values, culture and history. Perhaps as more US citizens learn about and travel to Cuba we can develop the political will to put aside the past fifty years of tension and distrust and extend a hand of friendship.


Continue to "Boca de Camarioca"
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Also, those interested in further reading may want to visit the architect Patrick McGrew's 2012 article in Artbound: https://www.linktv.org/shows/artbound/a-california-architect-visits-cuba