Bike About South America with Stuart and Anita

We were pretty excited to touch down in Cuba. The sun, beaches, music, architecture and flat terrain were calling. Although we did get a taste of each of these in Colombia, travelling to Cuba had a different appeal: to experience a fully left wing, Socialist/Communist country.

For the past 10 months or so, it would be fair to say that we have been left off the leash and enjoyed the freedom travelling in countries without many rules. The freedom of riding our bikes on occasion against the traffic, travelling in the back of over packed trucks, taking our bikes into restaurants with us, playing dumb at comprehending Spanish when convenient and as a tourist pretty much getting away anything that the relaxed officials let us get away with.  Our biggest cultural shock yet was arriving into paranoid communist Cuba, and having those privileges stripped and abiding by so many rigid rules.

We were greeted at the airport by some stiff customs staff who abruptly queried my nationality before snatching my passport away. It got handed around to the point where I lost sight of it and I spent the next half an hour wandering around the airport asking the whereabouts of this precious document. Eventually the security guard who had scanned our luggage piped up and demanded 'Esperar!' (Wait!!). We waited and waited and waited whilst I thought back to a blurb in the Lonely Planet, where it described it was not uncommon for a Cuban to be standing in queues for hours just to be served an ice cream. But I wasn't Cuban, nor was I waiting for an ice cream.....I was a suspected UK terrorist waiting for the interoggation process to begin. The Officer fired with the usual streamlined questions: nationality, country of residence, age, purpose of visit. He then went onto a series of seemingly quite bizzare questions, do you have a camera? What size is it? Does it have a big lens? How much money do you have? Why are you travelling on a UK passport if you live in Australia? Why are you travelling on bicycles?

But when you reflect on the fortress mentality of Cuba the questions probably aren't so crazy. Cuba undoubtedly feels very insecure residing next to its neighbor to the north, a country that openly admits to influencing 'regime change' to assist its own hegemony and political influence. It wasn't so long before the questions were answered and the answers accepted and we were out in the foyer of the airport, unpacking our bikes and racing the daylight to ride into Havana.

As we rolled out into the communist landscape we reflected on the excellent Tourist Information booth, the cleanliness of the airport and the road signs pointing us to Havana. Stuart was excitedly talking about our third 'Havana' ahead sign when we realised that there were no more signs, the rain had started and we seemed to be going the wrong way. A 5 km detour nearly landed us back at the airport.

We rolled into the city at dusk and hitched onto the back of a Cuban cyclist heading in the same direction who kindly helped us find our way. He rode a very rusted old Chinese made squeaky bicycle that has probably been a family heirloom for many generations. A bike that we would probably consider to be trash was this man's treasure. He proudly pointed to it, announcing the gear ratios and its inherent steely strength. We left the old man a block or two away from our Casa Particulares (a Bed & Breakfast, but without breakfast) and thanked him for his help. Sangita, who we had met on 'the Lost City' trek in Colombia, had booked us a nice two bedroom apartment in the heart of Old Havana and was waiting for us. We had the whole place to the three of us.  Once we had lugged our bikes up four floors and around the tight bends, it was perfect! The balcony looked over the rooftops of Old Havana and down the charming pedestrian street of Calle Obispo, where all the action happens.

The next day, some early morning commotion had us bolting to the balcony to watch a loud, albeit civilised protest of people that clearly were not in favour of their current government.   We queried about it later to a hotel/bar staff person who brushed it off and said, ‘muy complicado’ (it’s very complicated). It was our first experience of interacting with people without the freedom of speech and we remembered that it was illegal to speak against the Cuban government. Over the coming weeks we learnt just how seriously this rule was adhered to.

After a breakfast at a 'French' patissere we leisurely took to the streets of Havana to see why this place is like no other in the world. Havana is, to put it simply, one un-touched up tourist town and a giant living museum. There are believed to be some 60,000 vintage cars in Cuba's cities. In the 1950’s Chevrolets, Buicks and Cadillacs manufactured from the United States inundated the Caribbean market so much to the point that Havana once boasted to have more cars per capita than anywhere in the Western Hemisphere. Fascinating! But the revolution and the US-Cuban relations changed all that and put a consumer stop to the motor industry. Forced to adapt, in order to survive, the innovative Cuban motorists have reinvented themselves as supposedly the world's best mechanics. The classic car these days has been made up with calediscope of parts from all sorts of machinery to work around the US-Cuba trade embargo. It's not unusual to see a semi trailer that has been converted into a bus, equipped with seats or a tractor-bus trailer pulling human cargo.  The inventions go far beyond motorised vehicles too such as unique locking mechanisms in the houses or retro horse carts made with old car axles.  Necessity is clearly the mother of invention in Cuba!

But cars aside, the old world is still existent. Go to many of the 'supermarkets' and all the products are kept behind the counter and run up on an old till or via a book. Weight is measured by counter weight scale. Houses have retro fridges, coloured sanitary wear and furniture, clocks, radios & crystal-ware are very antique in style. . Book stores seem to only contain vintage propaganda material. Apart from the buildings that have had some UNESCO funds poured into them, building development in Havana seems to have stopped 50 years ago and structures have slowly deteriorated and sucumbed to concrete cancer – especially near the coast. But beyond its grittiness it has true authenticity. The front doors of those same beautiful buildings that line the footpaths, which in a capitalist country would have been prime highly exposed commercial retail property, are now often left wide open giving the passer-by a glimpse of life in a Habano home.  It is often cramped with people but with few possessions. Accommodation is free for Cubans, although housing shortages mean that often 3 or 4 family generations need to live under the same roof. Their few antiquated possessions though basic in nature are like heirlooms to the family and are a reflection of the life story of each home.  Catching the odd glimpse into the houses add another dimension of personality to the city, the real-life Cuba beyond the glossed up tourist attractions. It is all these homes, the cars, the streets and the Cuban way of living that makes Cuba one gigantic museum. It is almost as if all progress halted the day Fidel Castro took control.

We were first interested in seeing the ‘Granma’ boat, housed at the Museo del Revolucion (Revolution Museum), which Fidel Castro, along with 81 rebels on board, used to rise up against Batista and lead the War on Revolution. Of the 82 soldiers only 12 managed to escape after landing ashore on December 2, 1956, in the province now called ‘Granma’.  These 12 then split up into three tiny groups and lead the War on Revolution which against all odds was won on January 5, 1959. The ‘Granma’ boat is now housed in a heavily guarded glass box, presumably to stop people from breaking in and taking off in it to Florida!  The Museum itself is now housed in the old Presidential Palace, whose interior decoration was done by Tiffany’s of New York.  The Palace was also the site of an unsuccessful assassination attempt on Batista in 1957.  The exhibition was quite interesting in showcasing a documentary and photographic account of the Cuban Revolution, the government’s regime pre-revolution and anti US slogans. Unsurprisingly, it was completely one-sided but fascinating to say the least. A must see for anyone planning to visit Habana.

The remainder of the afternoon was spent strolling and soaking up the atmosphere of Old Havana.  Cafeterias and restaurants, busy with patrons; musicians filled the air with rich, vibrant and soulful music that Cuba is famous for.  Just lovely!!

Feeling the desire to explore the music scene into greater depths, Sangita, Stuart and I visited the La Casa de la Musica, were all the top performers play. It was midweek but the house seemed to pull in a late night crowd that filled the floor and flaunted their salsa, rumba and mambo moves. They were impressive and better entertainment than the on-stage performers themselves.  We purchased a bottle of rum, because that is what you do here. Alcohol is not served by the glass, unless you are after a cocktail.  The rum provided the necessary encouragement that was needed to get up and dance amongst experts. We must have drunk about three quarters of it, before I was pulled out to the dance floor and the rum remained unguarded.  I kept an eye on it from the distance, but as we got lost in the fun of the night, it disappeared. In retrospect, it was probably for the best due to our advanced state of inebriation but it was a good reminder that if you don’t care for what you have, someone else will!

Havana is a fantastic city to explore on bikes.  It’s flat, picturesque and has few cars.  We rose bleary eyed after our late night out and with some bicycle gymnastics took our bikes down the four floors and hit the streets to explore the greater city. We rode past the old forts and along the Malecon where the waves crashed over the wall, to the richer, once notorious mafia-run suburbs of Vedado, Playa and Marianao. As we got closer to these suburbs, where diplomats are known to live, we saw an increasing presence of policemen on many corners. As we approached one corner and we prepared ourselves to cross the street back onto the Malecon a whistle squealed near our ears.  A policeman stopped us, saying that turning left here was far too dangerous and he made us take the urban back streets.  Fair enough I thought.....if there were to be a danger.  There was four lanes of traffic each way and barely a car on them, but what’s a little detour anyway.  We rode down one block and crossed the road to the Malecon once again. Safely across, we picked up our bikes and continued along the Malecon footpath, laughing with a slightly arrogant tone at the ridiculousness of the officer.  Unsafe?!....have you ridden through South America?  To us, Cuba and riding in Cuban traffic seems like the safest place IN THE WORLD.  There is an oversupply of infrastructure, minimal traffic and gracious, patient drivers who give you plenty of space.  As we continued to laugh about his need to exert his authority, we hit a 10m section of seawater slime, in which I came crashing down from my bike and skidded most of the way. Ewwwww!!!! I was covered in green slime from shoulder to backside and just as we were on our way to El Aljibe, a fancy dining place, for lunch.  Where was our militant safety officer now?

The weather was hot enough to allow me to dry off relatively quickly and we chose a seat where I could sit on my unbruised cheek with my green back to the wall, so really it didn’t matter. The food was delicious, the beer cold and we rolled away stuffed full like ground beef in a capsicum!  El Aljibe is a private “Paladar” in the Embassy district.  Not cheap by any stretch of the imagination but a great example of private enterprise in Communist Cuba – great service and delicious food.  A combination that is very difficult to find in government run restaurants.

We precariously rode back to the Malecon, via the Necropolis Cristobal Colon and through the back streets of Vedado.  Along the streets, I was intrigued about some funky street furniture that caught my eye. One was a table made from an old redundant safe. Others were made from old fire hydrants. The table tops were made of concrete, some tiled with chess boards. The seats were made from prefabricated terrazzo stair risers and treads. It was further evidence of the creative use of trash being converted into a useful piece of street furniture that residents enjoy using daily.  Nothing is wasted here. We stopped by a table to have a chat with two Cuban gentlemen who had taken up a match of street chess.  One of the men was boasting with pride how he himself was putting in the labour and materials to further beautify his already beautiful street.  He had a much deserved pride in his neighbourhood and Havana. As we were to learn, he was typical of Cuban peoples – gracious, generous and passionate.

The wind had been blowing hard from the east all day and the ride back along the Malecon towards Havana Vieja to the east, had us doubting our planned route to cross the island riding east to Santiago be Cuba.  There was something nice about being able to say that we rode from Santiago de Chile to Santiago de Cuba for our honeymoon but as our eyes slitted against the headwind we were wondering if this claim of fame was worth the effort of doing our final 1000km in strong headwind.

A visit to Havana would not be complete without following some of the trail of the great Ernest Hemingway.  Hemingway was known to be a bar hopper, so there was no shortages of places to stop over – Ambos Mundos Hotel, La Bodeguita del Medio and El Floridita.  El Floridita was next to our Casa Particulares and famous for its Pape Hemingway Special – a Limon daiquiri. At $6CUC a pop, it was expensive (equating to half a month’s salary for a Cuban) and unsurprisingly there were only tourists slurping down this divine drink....I had two!

It was at La Floridita where we identified other MEC (Mountain Equipment Co-op) Canadian cycling attire and joined five other cyclists to hear about their cycling adventurers in Cuba. We had a great time talking shop in the La Floridita.  One fellow had ridden from San Francisco to Ushuaia and the others had done many tours of Cuba.  They also illuminated us on the threat of Easterly winds in Cuba.  We headed home that night intrigued by quirky Havana, excited about our upcoming rides, and mentally prepared to reconsider our travel plans in Cuba.

Cuba is going to be GREAT!

Anita and Stuart