Kind of timely, albeit belated, my Cuba experience was a long time coming and finally happened over a Christmas and New Year. Travelling for Christmas is not something I often do, I'm a traditional girl who likes a family time, but Caribbean sunshine beckoned and off I trekked.
I had had a Cuba calling for years. And a growing desperation to make it there before any political change that would soften embargoes and see the stunning long 50's Cadillacs suddenly queue up at a Golden Arches drive-thru.
I wanted to see Havana in its time-warped state and understand what that mean to the Cuban people. Of all the cities I have visited, Havana had a charm and heart that I have found only in few others.
Sadly, history and politics has driven a stark juxtaposition of poverty and restriction, just miles from the glam and decadence of the USA. I shall refrain from a position on the political state of the country, but I would share that Cuba is a place your passport needs stamped from and, in time, my American friends will enjoy it, too.
My trip started on the beach at Varadero. Not too much to write home about here - typical all-inclusive resort but , in my view, there are much better beaches to be found elsewhere in the Caribbean. I stayed at the Blau Varadero and, like every hotel on the coast, it came with previous traveller warnings about the quality of food. I didn't see any limitation, not least for a country that has limits on imports and depending on local produce. Plentiful supply and plenty to choose from. Maybe not your Costa del Platter of all things homelike, on the promenade, but that's not what I travel for, anyway.
A break from the beach, I took a trip in-country to local villages and crocodile farms and made a point of experiencing the local 'restaurants', which are no more than a family cooking up a meal served in their backyard or living room. A Spanish speaker, this was as authentic as it could get, a great afternoon of chat and food and outrageous hospitality. My jury is out on crocodile meat though, you may like it more!
My stay in Varadero took in the Christmas period. Hot sunshine and Santa hats a plenty, but great gala evening meals and entertainment to mark the occasion. Particular memories are of Christmas Eve, and a spine tingling rendition of Ave Maria from the top of the ten floor atrium of the hotel with white rose petals tumbling down, as we drank champagne in the bar. That, alone, is probably my single best moment of Varadero.
Havana is a different story. A good few hours transit from Varadero, itself an experience to see empty roads with trucks full of young workers and the plantation fields where fruits is farmed to export.
CityLife is bustling by comparison. You can see the wheelers and dealers, and there are enough here to need to watch your pockets. Fifties Cadillacs, tuk tuks and horses on carts, it really is the step back in time you read and watch on TV.
Buildings are dilapidated and tumbling down. A UNESCO heritage city, there is a slow reformation programme but, in the interim, sad stories of deaths from people living inside, as floors fall on families.
But there is a beauty in the ugliness of the broken bricks. An acceptance. Children play football in the streets. Old men sing on corners. Tourism is maximised with locally made products and tours and rum and showgirls. And it's not cheap. Expect to pay in Havana just as you would anywhere else, that's where politics has this one sewn up.
So you do. Tropicana, with its poor meal quota, is a fifties fest of dancing salsa that feels totally cruise ship. The infamous Buena Vista Social Club doesn't get more authentic than a fan-aired bar, on a Wednesday night. Side streets and plazas, museums and graffiti, crumbling in the ironic safety of an intricate city CCTV network. It all harks back to Castro and control of a city and its people.
And onto my second best memory of Cuba. New Years Eve, back seated with champagne, in a fifties Cadillac celebrating with chime of midnight to a canon ball blast.
If I never go back to Cuba, I will have find memories of the time I spent there. But something tells me it will change before long, and I hope it doesn't commercialise like Hawaii when it does.
Til next time, Pandora
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