For the second time in the last few years, my buddy Mikey and his
wife Shannon were going to Mexico for a few days in April and asked if
I'd like to come along. The last time I did this, I stayed in their
resort for a few days in the Mayan Rivera, then took off into the
Yucatan for a while. This time, I figured I'd hit a new country. And it
turned out to be a very enlightening experience.
After a hungover 5.5 hour flight to Cancun, my first stop was Isla Mujeres. It doesn't exactly live up to the literal translation of 'Island of Women', but it's nice nonetheless. A quick trip from the airport dropped me off at a ferry terminal where I would take the quick jaunt over to the island for a two-night stay. Well, ferry is probably overstating things a bit. It was just a big boat.
The ride was smooth though, and we were entertained by a Mexican singer with a little amp and a guitar. Upon arrival, I...got lost. This should come as no surprise to anyone who has ever read any of my travel blogs. Despite this being a tiny ass island, I managed to take four sets of directions and an entire hour to locate a hotel a whole 200 metres from the ferry.
Technophobe travel note - The addition of a smart phone with a couple of trusty apps has been a massive help in this department over the last year. Go GPS!
It was hard to bitch though, since my patio looked out directly onto the wavy water. There was a footpath in between my ground-level deck and the water though, which was a bit awkward when people walked by or decided to hang out there. But that's what Dos Equis are for!
Speaking of them, the guy at the convenience store coming obviously saw right through this dumb gringo, since he charged me at least twice the normal rate for beer and I fell for it like a moron. But whatever, at least I had beer. Speaking of that, I could use one of those right now - I'm on a flight to Tokyo and I haven't had one in an hour.
Anyway, my time there was super chill. I just walked around and checked out different bars/restaurants. One place was great - it was huge and I was the only customer, so a bunch of the staff dragged me into a conversation about music. Only about half of them spoke passable English, but it was still a lot of laughs. Apparently Leonard Cohen is the best singer of all time. Sure guys.
That was not the new country I was referring to though, obviously. My main destination after that was an island about an hour off the coast of Cancun. A place that Americans aren't even allowed into (bonus!). A place with old cars, cheap liquor, and ton of history.
Cuba. Havana, to be specific.
My trip over turned out to be a nightmare though. I'd only ever experienced the super nice International terminal in the Cancun airport, and excuse me if I'm ignorant or something, but Cuba is another country so flights to there should go outta the fancy place right?
Nooooo. Mexican logic at its finest, as usual. Cuba flights use the domestic terminal. And that place is a sweaty shithole with no AC.
Then my flight got delayed seven hours. SEVEN!
Dos Equis and my unique hate of MMA fans kept me awake until we finally left, on a typically-ghetto plane. The flight was cool though - a guy named Ryan from Belize was bullshitting with me the whole way. He lived in Havana because he was going to medical school there, so he gave me some great advice about the city and even showed me the quick and easy way to get through customs at the Havana airport as a foreigner. Super nice guy. He did make one good joke at my expense though, as soon as I sat down - "Man, are you on The Deadliest Catch? If not, you should be!"
Unfortunately, it was midnight by now. And since you can't buy Cuban currency outside the country and the only ATM didn't work, everyone had to line up at the currency exchange to get cash (yeah, no credit cards either). That took a fucking hour. Yeah.
Cuba has two currencies - one for residents, one for foreigners. 1 CUC (foreigner dollar) = 25 CUPs (Cuban money). So Cubans were coming back and exchanging ungodly amounts of money into their own currency, which involved them carrying shoeboxes of cash out of the airport. It was really weird. And slow. Finally I got money and jumped into a waiting cab. And descended into weirdness.
Since Cuba has been suffering from a US trade embargo for seemingly forever, they've been unable to import vehicles from anywhere other than Russia (which is stupid expensive). So Cubans just manage to recycle what they already had - American cars from the 50's. It's amazing to see these relics (some of which are beautiful cars still) fixed up and used everywhere. I'd estimate that every fourth car was a massive Buick or something. It was surreal at first, but you get used to it. Then after a few days, you go "how the fuck did I get used to THIS?" That sentence describes much of Havana life, come to think of it.
Anyway, I was staying at a government hotel. Why? The government runs all hotels, of course. This is a communist country after all. But they know how to ball, that's for sure. I got, without a doubt, the biggest room I've ever stayed in. Ever. Bigger than every apartment I've ever had too. It was fucking unreal. Full of antique furniture, huge bed, massive minibar, you name it. I even had DirecTV and four ESPN channels somehow. But there was Cuban government propaganda on half of the other channels, somehow starring the Castros and Danny Glover of all people. It was fucking crazy.
Since it was already 1am and everything was closed (but people were still sitting on their stoops everywhere in the dark), the cabbie (who was super nice and spoke great English) said I should probably just chill indoors tonight and start my exploration in the morning. So I had to settle for the minibar. 1.50 a beer! 16 of them in there?!? Hell yeah!
Needless to say, I slept in the next day. Then it was Havana exploration time. And Havana's fucking awesome.
I never would have guessed how much there was to see, despite studying up beforehand. Huge churches, a beautiful malecon (walking path along the water), music everywhere, and just a really cool vibe. It was gritty for sure, and you could tell you weren't in the proverbial Kansas anymore, but I loved every second of it.
My favorite part was probably the huge imposing fort across the bay. It's massive, intimidating, and beautiful. Like me! Shut up. But the best part is the ferry you have to take over to it. It's only a five-minute ride, but it has airport-like security to get on. Why? Because it's been stolen twice in the last 10 years by overzealous Cubans that wanted to go to Miami. The coast guard almost had to shoot at it one time. I still laugh at the idea of that.
I spent the first two days just walking around, popping my head into places, and checking out a few bars. My hotel bar seemed more interesting than any other one though - they'd show all sorts of sporting events, everything from the X-Games to a Champions League soccer match - and it would be absolutely JAMMED with people. Kids, adults, elephants, everyone. Out on the street, around the corner, you name it. They loved anything they could watch. Why?
"None of them have TV's!" said the bartender.
Fair point.
The class divide was obvious though, even if the race line is very blurred there. I was wandering along the malecon and dodging the usual touts when one dude came up and said "You're from Canada, aren't you? This statue right here is actually an ambassador from Quebec." That got my attention, so I talked to him.
His name was Jose, and he walked along the malecon with me for a while, answering all my questions and telling me what it was like as a Cuban not born into privilege. He made 300 bucks a month as a carpenter. That's in CUC's though, so it was really 7500 CUPs. Not much of a living, but I'd find out later how far CUPs really go. His dad overdosed from huffing gas when he was 10, which is a common pastime there for poor people to get high. And he hated life under Castro, wanting more than anything to escape to Miami.
At first I thought it was the usual song and dance touts use. My life is hard, give me money, etc. And it probably was, to a degree. But there were a couple of things that stuck out for me. The first was him pointing out the secret police as they drove up, saying "they're going to arrest someone right now for no reason, watch". And that's exactly what they did - they just grabbed some guy that was getting out of his car and arrested him. The guy was totally clueless, and it was an obvious shakedown for a bribe.
The second was just how honest he came across. He told me straight up that most people do Havana in tour groups because people are intimidated on the street. And that if I wasn't a big guy, there are a lot of people out there that would absolutely rob me. He made me laugh when he said he didn't have it in him to rob a tourist for 100 bucks, but he'd "rob a fucking bank any time!"
He also took me to some peso stalls, which was insane. This is where Cuban people use CUP's to buy street food. Foreigners aren't allowed to use CUP's, but I had exchanged 5 dollars' worth (125) just to see what they were like. With Jose doing the talking, I got 2 slices of pizza and 4 beers for 20 CUP's - 80 cents! Then, Jose wouldn't even let me pay and covered it himself.
After some more walking and listening, I finally decided to head back to the hotel. I have no doubt that Jose was going to ask me for money, but I beat him to the punch and gave him my CUP's and 5 CUC's (250 CUP's total). He thanked me profusely and all that, but I learned more in those couple of hours than I have in a lot of other full trips. It was worth every penny, and I'm glad it went to someone that could actually use it.
He probably used it on a fucking bag of gas to huff, but whatever. Maybe he could afford unleaded this time!
I saw a lot of what I wanted to see in three days, and chilled in my hotel bar for a Barcelona/Bayern Munich Champion's League game the last night. The entire bar was just blowing up over everything, and it was a hell of a lot of fun. And cheap - 9 beers, 4 mojitos, and a Cuban Sandwich came out to 22.50. So awesome.
Overall, Havana is a fucking amazing place and I recommend it to everyone (except Americans - ha!). I'm sure the resorts in Veradero are great and all that but if you go, do yourself a favor and get to Havana for a day. It's absolutely worth your time. I can't wait to go back.
After a hungover 5.5 hour flight to Cancun, my first stop was Isla Mujeres. It doesn't exactly live up to the literal translation of 'Island of Women', but it's nice nonetheless. A quick trip from the airport dropped me off at a ferry terminal where I would take the quick jaunt over to the island for a two-night stay. Well, ferry is probably overstating things a bit. It was just a big boat.
The ride was smooth though, and we were entertained by a Mexican singer with a little amp and a guitar. Upon arrival, I...got lost. This should come as no surprise to anyone who has ever read any of my travel blogs. Despite this being a tiny ass island, I managed to take four sets of directions and an entire hour to locate a hotel a whole 200 metres from the ferry.
Technophobe travel note - The addition of a smart phone with a couple of trusty apps has been a massive help in this department over the last year. Go GPS!
It was hard to bitch though, since my patio looked out directly onto the wavy water. There was a footpath in between my ground-level deck and the water though, which was a bit awkward when people walked by or decided to hang out there. But that's what Dos Equis are for!
Speaking of them, the guy at the convenience store coming obviously saw right through this dumb gringo, since he charged me at least twice the normal rate for beer and I fell for it like a moron. But whatever, at least I had beer. Speaking of that, I could use one of those right now - I'm on a flight to Tokyo and I haven't had one in an hour.
Anyway, my time there was super chill. I just walked around and checked out different bars/restaurants. One place was great - it was huge and I was the only customer, so a bunch of the staff dragged me into a conversation about music. Only about half of them spoke passable English, but it was still a lot of laughs. Apparently Leonard Cohen is the best singer of all time. Sure guys.
That was not the new country I was referring to though, obviously. My main destination after that was an island about an hour off the coast of Cancun. A place that Americans aren't even allowed into (bonus!). A place with old cars, cheap liquor, and ton of history.
Cuba. Havana, to be specific.
My trip over turned out to be a nightmare though. I'd only ever experienced the super nice International terminal in the Cancun airport, and excuse me if I'm ignorant or something, but Cuba is another country so flights to there should go outta the fancy place right?
Nooooo. Mexican logic at its finest, as usual. Cuba flights use the domestic terminal. And that place is a sweaty shithole with no AC.
Then my flight got delayed seven hours. SEVEN!
Dos Equis and my unique hate of MMA fans kept me awake until we finally left, on a typically-ghetto plane. The flight was cool though - a guy named Ryan from Belize was bullshitting with me the whole way. He lived in Havana because he was going to medical school there, so he gave me some great advice about the city and even showed me the quick and easy way to get through customs at the Havana airport as a foreigner. Super nice guy. He did make one good joke at my expense though, as soon as I sat down - "Man, are you on The Deadliest Catch? If not, you should be!"
Unfortunately, it was midnight by now. And since you can't buy Cuban currency outside the country and the only ATM didn't work, everyone had to line up at the currency exchange to get cash (yeah, no credit cards either). That took a fucking hour. Yeah.
Cuba has two currencies - one for residents, one for foreigners. 1 CUC (foreigner dollar) = 25 CUPs (Cuban money). So Cubans were coming back and exchanging ungodly amounts of money into their own currency, which involved them carrying shoeboxes of cash out of the airport. It was really weird. And slow. Finally I got money and jumped into a waiting cab. And descended into weirdness.
Since Cuba has been suffering from a US trade embargo for seemingly forever, they've been unable to import vehicles from anywhere other than Russia (which is stupid expensive). So Cubans just manage to recycle what they already had - American cars from the 50's. It's amazing to see these relics (some of which are beautiful cars still) fixed up and used everywhere. I'd estimate that every fourth car was a massive Buick or something. It was surreal at first, but you get used to it. Then after a few days, you go "how the fuck did I get used to THIS?" That sentence describes much of Havana life, come to think of it.
Anyway, I was staying at a government hotel. Why? The government runs all hotels, of course. This is a communist country after all. But they know how to ball, that's for sure. I got, without a doubt, the biggest room I've ever stayed in. Ever. Bigger than every apartment I've ever had too. It was fucking unreal. Full of antique furniture, huge bed, massive minibar, you name it. I even had DirecTV and four ESPN channels somehow. But there was Cuban government propaganda on half of the other channels, somehow starring the Castros and Danny Glover of all people. It was fucking crazy.
Since it was already 1am and everything was closed (but people were still sitting on their stoops everywhere in the dark), the cabbie (who was super nice and spoke great English) said I should probably just chill indoors tonight and start my exploration in the morning. So I had to settle for the minibar. 1.50 a beer! 16 of them in there?!? Hell yeah!
Needless to say, I slept in the next day. Then it was Havana exploration time. And Havana's fucking awesome.
I never would have guessed how much there was to see, despite studying up beforehand. Huge churches, a beautiful malecon (walking path along the water), music everywhere, and just a really cool vibe. It was gritty for sure, and you could tell you weren't in the proverbial Kansas anymore, but I loved every second of it.
My favorite part was probably the huge imposing fort across the bay. It's massive, intimidating, and beautiful. Like me! Shut up. But the best part is the ferry you have to take over to it. It's only a five-minute ride, but it has airport-like security to get on. Why? Because it's been stolen twice in the last 10 years by overzealous Cubans that wanted to go to Miami. The coast guard almost had to shoot at it one time. I still laugh at the idea of that.
I spent the first two days just walking around, popping my head into places, and checking out a few bars. My hotel bar seemed more interesting than any other one though - they'd show all sorts of sporting events, everything from the X-Games to a Champions League soccer match - and it would be absolutely JAMMED with people. Kids, adults, elephants, everyone. Out on the street, around the corner, you name it. They loved anything they could watch. Why?
"None of them have TV's!" said the bartender.
Fair point.
The class divide was obvious though, even if the race line is very blurred there. I was wandering along the malecon and dodging the usual touts when one dude came up and said "You're from Canada, aren't you? This statue right here is actually an ambassador from Quebec." That got my attention, so I talked to him.
His name was Jose, and he walked along the malecon with me for a while, answering all my questions and telling me what it was like as a Cuban not born into privilege. He made 300 bucks a month as a carpenter. That's in CUC's though, so it was really 7500 CUPs. Not much of a living, but I'd find out later how far CUPs really go. His dad overdosed from huffing gas when he was 10, which is a common pastime there for poor people to get high. And he hated life under Castro, wanting more than anything to escape to Miami.
At first I thought it was the usual song and dance touts use. My life is hard, give me money, etc. And it probably was, to a degree. But there were a couple of things that stuck out for me. The first was him pointing out the secret police as they drove up, saying "they're going to arrest someone right now for no reason, watch". And that's exactly what they did - they just grabbed some guy that was getting out of his car and arrested him. The guy was totally clueless, and it was an obvious shakedown for a bribe.
The second was just how honest he came across. He told me straight up that most people do Havana in tour groups because people are intimidated on the street. And that if I wasn't a big guy, there are a lot of people out there that would absolutely rob me. He made me laugh when he said he didn't have it in him to rob a tourist for 100 bucks, but he'd "rob a fucking bank any time!"
He also took me to some peso stalls, which was insane. This is where Cuban people use CUP's to buy street food. Foreigners aren't allowed to use CUP's, but I had exchanged 5 dollars' worth (125) just to see what they were like. With Jose doing the talking, I got 2 slices of pizza and 4 beers for 20 CUP's - 80 cents! Then, Jose wouldn't even let me pay and covered it himself.
After some more walking and listening, I finally decided to head back to the hotel. I have no doubt that Jose was going to ask me for money, but I beat him to the punch and gave him my CUP's and 5 CUC's (250 CUP's total). He thanked me profusely and all that, but I learned more in those couple of hours than I have in a lot of other full trips. It was worth every penny, and I'm glad it went to someone that could actually use it.
He probably used it on a fucking bag of gas to huff, but whatever. Maybe he could afford unleaded this time!
I saw a lot of what I wanted to see in three days, and chilled in my hotel bar for a Barcelona/Bayern Munich Champion's League game the last night. The entire bar was just blowing up over everything, and it was a hell of a lot of fun. And cheap - 9 beers, 4 mojitos, and a Cuban Sandwich came out to 22.50. So awesome.
Overall, Havana is a fucking amazing place and I recommend it to everyone (except Americans - ha!). I'm sure the resorts in Veradero are great and all that but if you go, do yourself a favor and get to Havana for a day. It's absolutely worth your time. I can't wait to go back.
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