There always has to be a mad taxi driver somewhere in the story. Ours arrived at the outset. Needless to say he was not the only one we encountered.
Three o'clock in the morning and we were treated to hair-raising stories of gangland Limerick punctuated by expletives. Thirty minutes of this was almost enough to make us long for 8 hours on a cramped, stuffy aeroplane - almost! When we arrived at the airport it was like a scene from Stephen King's "IT". There were a few sleepy bodies strewn around on the seats in the Departure lounge but nothing was open. We finally boarded the plane at about five and started our journey to Cuba.
Our holiday began in Havana, the capital of Cuba. It's a bustling city, full of classic cars, bike couriers and pedestrians.
We started with a visit to a cigar factory, to avoid the afternoon downpour, a result of visiting during the Rainy Season. The Partagas Factory is located in the centre of the city. The guide took us through the cigar-making process from the sorting of the outer leaves to the grading of the four interior leaves that make up a cigar.
One of the leaves is for flavour, one for smell, one for burning and one for binding. The combinations or recipes of these four leaves make up the different brands - Cohibas, Romeo and Juliettas, Bolivars, Montecristos. The factory is like most buildings in Cuba, old and crumbling both inside and out. Nothing is automated and bare hands, sweat and skill combine to make the cigars.
There is a 9-month training school before the workers are allowed roll cigars and every person is responsible for a certain brand. They are checked at every stage. The room also has a table at one end where newspapers are read out in the morning and books in the afternoon.
There was thunder and lightening outside while we were visiting and lots of cheers when the electricity flickered with the prospect of getting home early should it fail altogether. All of it is so new to the workers they still treat visitors with a sense of awe and interest. However it won't be long before they become jaded by streams of people coming in and staring at them.
Our next trip was to Hemingway's house outside the city.
This was our first journey into the countryside and it was unlike anywhere I'd ever been. People line the roads hitchhiking and all shapes and sizes of cars and motorbikes speed past. Hemingway's house is situated overlooking the village of San Francisco de Paula, shaded by Palm trees and a respite of calm after the drama of Havana.
The house is available to the public to look through the open windows and doors and wander in the grounds. It is left exactly as it was when Hemingway lived there and is filled with his books, music and his collection of African memorabilia.
The pool is empty but the feeling as you walk down the shaded path to it is eerie. You can almost feel the presence of the great writer and imagine the poolside parties when he entertained Ava Gardener and Gary Cooper. Nearby is the fishing village Cojímar, the setting for his Noble Prize winning novel "The Old Man and the Sea". It's a pretty village and the restaurant "La Terraza" was once a favourite haunt of his.
The Hemingway trail continued back to Havana where there are a number of drinking establishments frequented by the famed writer - The Ambos Mundos Hotel, La Floridita (great but pricey daiquiris) and La Bodeguita del Medio, probably the most expensive place we drank in Cuba.
One of the best things about a holiday in Cuba and Havana in particular is the music. It carries you away on a swirling fantasy ride with trombones, trumpets and beating drums.
The impact of the Buena Vista Social Club film and music is not to be underestimated. A lot of the bands in the various bars and clubs play the most renowned songs from the album. It's hard to describe the atmosphere in the streets as you walk along in the balmy evening, it's hot and sticky and the heart of the city beats all around you.
Further along the southern coast of the Island is the town of Trinidad.
The nearby beach is Playa Ancon and it is frequented by tourists and Cubans alike. We went snorkelling and it was a great experience, very safe with fish of a myriad of colours. I hadn't done it before but am hooked (excuse the pun).
There are plenty of facilities in the beachfront hotel, it has an outdoor pool and restaurants both on the sea front, and indoors. There are pedal boats and kayaks for hire on the beach.
The town of Trinidad is easy to explore on foot and the cobbled streets and red roofed houses make it very picturesque. It has an old world charm and sleepier pace than Havana. The museum in the main town square is worth a visit as is the tower a few metres away which provides beautiful views of the surrounding hills.
The nightlife is geared towards tourists but we loved the outdoor bands at the Casa de La Musica.
One of the highlights of our trip was a salsa class in a Cuban woman's home. She had an electric fan on the floor, a battered old ghetto blaster and the room looked out onto banana trees in the garden. She kicked off her shoes and showed us the basic salsa steps. My eyes were stinging as beads of perspiration trickled down my face.
We must have looked hilarious, 40-degree heat and the four of us dancing wildly around the room. She even brought out two little girls to help us dance. Needless to say we had trouble keeping up. They were about five and seven years old and had all the moves off perfectly, it was embarrassing with our two left feet. She explained that Cubans dance with their whole bodies not just their feet and you have to feel the passion to do it properly. It's not quite the same as traditional Irish dancing!
Santiago is the carnival capital of Cuba and we timed our visit to coincide with the annual Festival in the city that runs during the last week of July with the biggest celebrations on the 26th of July, one of Cuba's most important feast days.
Full roasted pigs are sliced and sold in sandwiches on the market stalls. Music and singing flow from the open doorways and the dancing is wild and flamboyant. The Cubans know how to party.
The city was packed due to the Festival and to get accommodation in the centre of the Parte Vieja you would need to book well in advance. We stayed out in the suburbs, actually in one of the wealthier parts, which was a definite change from our other locations.
We stayed near the Zona Especial. It's called a special zone because Castro and other Government officials have houses there. It's very colonial looking and full of Palm trees, Santiago's answer to Beverly Hills, however all the houses are in need of a fresh coat of paint.
We met a very nice couple, Pepe and Claudia, through our landlady and ate in their house every night. The food was delicious and he was eager to talk about the realities of Cuban life. He explained that although trained as an engineer, he makes more money from his job making and selling shark teeth necklaces and coral jewellery to the tourists in the Gran Parque Natural Bacanoa, than when he worked as an engineer. His father was Spanish so he has both Cuban and Spanish nationality. This allows him to travel outside Cuba a privilege not many, even his wife, are granted.
At the time he was trying to get papers together to allow his wife and daughter travel out of the country with him, but it's difficult. Pepe's house was bought by his father in 1930 when he arrived from Spain, he now lives there with his wife, daughter, son-in-law and granddaughter. He owns the house but cannot sell it. If he wants to move he would have to get permission from the Government who will probably want to take his house as it is in this special zone and give him a house somewhere else.
Santiago for me wasn't as picturesque as Trinidad nor as cosmopolitan as Havana but it has it's own delights especially during carnival.
The carnival parades are elaborate and colourful, filling the streets with the passion of the city. Cuba at any time of the year is full of music but to be there during "Carnavale" magnifies the experience twenty fold.
The centre of the city is lovely and contains the oldest building in Cuba, Diego Velásquez's house built in 1512. There's an interesting museum - Museo Emilio Bacardí Moreau containing artefacts from the Revolutions and a lovely art collection upstairs.
The musical epicentre of the town, the Casa de la Trova, is also worth a visit although sometimes they use it to give a chance to lesser-known singers during the day and they are often not of the highest calibre.
Outside the city is the famous El Morro fortress. Used to protect Cuba from the invading Spanish in 1898 and also as a prison during Castro's early years it's very impressive and the views from it of the coastline are spectacular.
The church of the Virgin de la Caridad, the patron saint of Cuba, is worth visiting to see the adoration the Cubans have for her. The church was packed with floral offerings and mementoes. The final resting-place of Jose Martí in Cementario Santa Ifigneia is also worth a visit.
On our journey around Santiago to see the many sights we came back into the city through the back streets. The poverty here is tangible. The houses were more dilapidated than any we had seen and there were queues outside the government stores with people trying to get food. Anywhere else this would be the area that tourists would avoid yet we drove through in our air-conditioned Mercedes taxi unhindered.
On the Eastern tip of Cuba is Baracoa. It's probably the most typically Caribbean place on the Island. The journey to it is breathtaking and not just for the scenery, the road is literally cut into the mountain and sometimes it's actually scary looking out of the windows.
We drove there in the morning and there was early dew on the grass. The vegetation is lush and green, full of palm and coconut trees and banana plants. In Baracoa we saw a traditional celebration of a fifteen-year old girl's birthday. It's as big as a wedding. Balloon-covered cars drive along beeping horns and stop to take photos of the lucky girl in front of the village monuments.
Unfortunately we only had 2 days in Baracoa. We took one of these to climb up and explore the base camp of the mountain La Yunque. The houses on the mountain are mostly little huts with straw roofs. The journey up to the base camp is about 5km. The norm is to cycle and then hike. However we were very tired from all the travelling and opted to take a taxi and then walk. This was definitely the smarter option as the road was full of potholes. It would have been a nightmare on a bike.
If you think the roads in Ireland are bad, they are nothing compared to this. It was very educational with our guide Ravé pointing out the differences between palm and coconut trees, apparently the palm trees have a spike sticking out of them at the top.
We stopped on our way up the mountain for coffee, fresh coconut milk, pineapples and bananas plucked from the trees, the pineapples were the juiciest I had ever tasted. The people on the mountain are self sufficient except for rice and sugar, which they need from the village. The old men cook stew in big pots on open fires and sit around smoking cigars and talking.
Further up the mountain we swam across a fast flowing river, climbed up rocks to swim under a waterfall. It was amazing. This is the side of Cuba you are not going to find in tourist resorts.
Talking to Ravé was informative, he told us that by taking us on that trip he was breaking the law, as it is illegal for people to work for themselves. Ravé said that the police sometimes look the other way. He also deals in second-hand clothes and with a few friends organises the redecoration of houses convincing families that it will make them more appealing to tourists.
That's the root of it all again, everyone needs dollars and tourists have them. It's sad to see someone as resourceful as Rave not being able to work to his full potential. In somewhere like the US he would probably make a fortune, from the very thing he is persecuted for in Cuba.
During one of our nights in Baracoa we visited El Rancho, a hilltop disco overlooking the village. The music was far removed from the traditional salsa and son music heard in all the Casa de la Musicas. It was sweaty and packed like a night-club back home and though it might not be for everyone, we enjoyed an alternative look at Cuban entertainment.
From Baracoa it was back to Havana. We stayed in a lovely hotel, Hostal Valencia, for our last night in Cuba and were all devastated to be leaving this beautiful country behind.
A look at Cuba's recent past goes some way to explain the anomalies at play in its present state.
Before the Revolution in 1959 that brought Castro to power, Cuba followed closely behind the US as a progressive capitalist country. They had all the modern appliances and 5 TV channels, one or two less than the US. People remember this as a time when movie stars flocked to Cuba. Now in 2001 they have two TV channels and Castro heavily governs both. One is dedicated to promoting the Communist doctrine and the other shows sports, nature programmes and soaps. If Castro is televised he is broadcast on both.
Opposed to this, hotels have 15 channels for tourists. Cubans are not allowed visit them except if they work there. Cinema too is censored, as are books. It's impossible to get an international newspaper and the only papers on sale in the streets are 2 communist newssheets.
All the young people dream of escaping and probably have a very idealised view of the outside world. The hassle we got from men was for the most part an attempt to secure an invitation out of the country. The only way they can get out is to receive an invitation and a work contract from the country they are going to.
We met one American man who had been to Cuba 36 times trying to secure an exit visa for his young Cuban wife. Prostitution is quite blatant and it's hard to avoid seeing older Western men arm in arm with young Cuban girls, in the bars and on the street. It's one aspect of the tourist boom that's hard to stomach and didn't really exist until tourists started coming back into the country in 1993.
The Police earn more than doctors (average wage of $11 per month) and bar staff earn more than the two combined, due to tips in dollars.
The before and after effects of Communism are laid bare in Julian Schnabel's 2000 film "Before Night Falls" telling the story of Reinaldo Arenas and the persecution he suffered for being a poet and homosexual during Castro's rise to power in 1959. It's a film worth seeing to get a sense of the transformation that Cuba has undergone in the last few decades.
Every town has monuments and plaques to the great Revolutionaries - Jose Martí, Fidel Castro, Ché Guevera and on every wall there are Communist slogans emblazoned. Here are a few examples of ones that I saw:
En el pueblo hay mucho - There is plenty in the town
Nadie podrá quitar la esperanza - Nobody can kill hope
Igualdad y Libertad plena - Total equality and liberty
Patria o Muerto Mother country or death
26 Seguimos en combate - 26 We continue to fight (26 was Castro's group during the 1958 Revolution)
(In Baracoa) Estas montañas nunca seran tomado - These mountains will never be taken
En cada Barrio Revolución - En every neighbourhood revolution
42 Años de Batallas y Victorias por el Socialismo - 42 years of battles and victories for socialism
You leave Cuba with regret and mostly full of contradictions.
The handsome face of Ché Guevera adorns T-Shirts and postcards wherever you look. However by sporting his face are you in some way supporting his legacy?
The opulence and luxury of the hotels is sharply removed from the basic lifestyle of the ordinary people. The power of the dollar flowing from the pockets of tourists is gradually devaluing the Cuban peso and at the same time encouraging the people to hustle as many dollars from the tourists as possible for a better life. Sure you get hassled in most countries but it's sad in Cuba where increased exposure to an outside world is driving them to it.
The desire for people to escape to the land of the free is contrasted with the strong family bonds and neighbourliness of the people. It's a country where bartenders earn more than doctors, television and cinema are strictly censured, no-one can leave freely or make any money independently.
It's hard when you're immersed in the country to fully see and appreciate these disparities but from a distance looking back they're all too clear. Despite all this the warmth of the people and the beauty of the country are the strongest memories you take with you when you leave. It's an odd feeling you have when you go, you couldn't live there but it's heartbreaking to say goodbye.
