We are here!
Nothing about getting to Cuba was tricky or particularly intimidating; but it still took most of the day. We left for the airport at 8:15, arrived, checked in, cleared security, and then walked around for more than an hour. We toured all 60 D gates in Miami's airport. The charter flight was not full, and took just a bit more than an hour.
We landed and walked to the airport to clear immigration. That was easy too. They check passports and took a photo of each of us, asking me to move my bangs off my face and "please not smile." Through the opaque little cubicle door and into the next waiting area where all hand luggage is x-rayed. All checked luggage comes onto two carousels in no particular order. Finally, the blue customs form is given to the agent and we went out into the heat to find the tour bus. Apparently our group made it into the country about an hour after landing, which was a record.
In the parking lot we were all fascinated by the very apparent vintage cars. It wasn't hard to spot them; they were in abundance in the airport parking lot. Russian Lada's are common as are VW's, but it is the old American cars that catch the eye. As one group member said, "I've never been so interested in a parking lot before." There are an estimated 35,000 on the roads here, so even after a few minutes driving, the cars are not a rare site at all.
We have a wonderful Cuban guide named Grancy. She oriented us as we drove into Havana. It is easy to see people everywhere and Havana is a very safe city-- really, all of Cuba is.
Our first stop-- and bear in mind it was now after 2pm, was lunch at a paladr named La Casa. This one was started by the matriarch of the family and is now run by her son, still in the family home. A couple of the rooms are used for very nice dining rooms, and we walked through the family sitting room to get to them. They have a very small courtyard with a fountain wall and a collection of money from all over the world hanging in nice floating frames. To use the bathroom, the ladies exit to the home's bedroom hallway and use the family bathroom.
The food was good and very much more than what we would eat for an American lunch: beer or a cocktail, hot soup (chicken or pumpkin), rolls, fried yucca, a main course of snapper, in my case, but other offerings were rabbit, pork, or lamb, serve with sides of black beans, rice and some salad vegetables. We finished with flan and a scoop of pistachio ice cream and Cuban coffee.
When we reboarded the bus, we were bound for the Christopher Columbus Cemetery. This is an old (1871) cemetery that was founded to contain the remains of the man, himself. He was interred there only two years before his remains were brought back to Spain. Columbus did not rest long there, though before being moved again to the Dominican Republic which was as he had directed in his last testament. Many other important people are buried in this cemetery. In the old part, it looks like a little village with family plots. Being exhumed is part of the tradition. Remains are buried for two years, then exhumed, cremated and reinterred. This saves space, but it is an uncomfortable concept.
We had a special guide for the cemetery. The two highlights, as she explained: The tallest monument is to a group of firefighters who died at a call to a "hardware" store. As I understand it, which may not be accurate, the wealthy owner of the store did not tell the responders that his place was full of munitions, so they died in an unexpected explosion. The monument in their honor is full of symbolism for the sacrifice of the firefighters. The eagle at the top is blind, representing that human justice was not present in their deaths. There is a nun with pelicans around her, because the mother pelican will peck at herself to feed her nestlings if there is not other food; the bird is a symbol of extreme selflessness. There are bats that adorn the monument symbolizing death by betrayal. And, there are upside down flames in the ironwork, to symbolize death.
The second highlight is a grave of a mother and child. Marrying on the same date as a sibling is considered bad luck in Cuba. This young woman, Amelia Guardi, and her husband did it anyway, on June 25, 1900, the same day as her sister married. Nine months later she and her babe died in childbirth and the baby was buried at her feet. Her husband visited the grave every day, tapping on the top with his wedding ring to wake her up, and then backing away to show respect. He kept this up for forty years. The legend is that at some point she was exhumed and the baby and mother found without decay, baby in its mother's arms. So, people began to arrive and touch the baby in the statue and tap atop the stone grave with a wish.If the wish is granted, they leave a stone plaque. (And, all the bad luck should not be visited upon just Amelia, apparently her sister also died in childbirth.)
With that post prandial adventure, we boarded the bus again and drove to the Hotel Nacional, which is historic and the flagship hotel of Cuba. It was completed in 1930 and has 400 rooms. The sixth floor is called the presidential floor or the mafia floor. Both these famous and infamous have made use of it. The presidential visits are ongoing. The most famous mafia visit was a meeting of all the families, from the US and Sicily, in 1946, just after Christmas, and Frank Sinatra was invited to perform for them.
We went to the bar and were served a mojito while the check in was done for us. The cocktails were served in a little history museum showing collages of famous people who have been here. We are high up, on the eighth floor with a view of the ocean. We were told to have modest expectations, but it is really nice-- the old furnishings are fitting. We were told to not expect even shampoo in the room, but we have all the usual little bottles.
Dinner was at a vast buffet and after dinner, daiquiris on the patio.
If there are no photos with this post, check back in a week-- they just weren't able to be uploaded from the internet in the hotel.
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