31 October to 3 November 2015

Looking back, we probably had our best time in Baracoa, a small town at the very east end of Cuba. Maybe it was just because Candice and I thought we were living our last days before getting onto the 1970 Russian propeller airplane back to Havana on Tuesday, 3 November. We danced our nights away with Luis, Yadri, Alain and friends. We went walking and to the beach. We stayed in the nicest casa particular and had the best food. I miss Baracoa *sigh* and have to be disciplined not to go back straight away.

Luis was with us on the bus from Santiago de Cuba to Baracoa. Like with all other people on this bus journey, we kept bumping into him in tiny Baracoa. He told us that he had visited his mum in Santiago, but decided to come back as cholera and dengue fever had broken out there. I remembered with chills that I had used the public bathroom at the bus terminal in Santiago, which was bad even by Cuban standards. It actually looked like straight from a horror movie: dimly lit, green mould, wet floor, camera focus on cockroach crossing the tiles, focus on and sound of water tap dripping, focus on half dead toilet woman…

Anyway, I didn’t catch cholera, but Candice and I felt we had taken the right decision to do Pico Turquino instead of Santiago.

We saw Luis again the evening of our arrival in the beergarden, where we also met an Argentinian on bicycle tour through east Cuba that had chatted to us at the beach earlier. He was very charming and I understand why we saw him with a different woman every day. Candice caused commotion in the club later on. There is apparently a rule she didn’t obey: not to change your dance partner. Luis was offended and then Bill, another guy that chatted us up at the beach. I escaped any criticism by dancing with Yadri all night, first at the Las Terrazas and later at a hotel roof top bar. He is probably one of the best dance partners I ever had. So much so, we also went out the next evening and the evening after. Luckily, they didn’t play too much Salsa. I still struggle with it a lot, even dancing with Yadri. I watched him dance Salsa with his cousin. I was in awe and envious, if I could ever dance like this!

During the days, we had a nature walk through the Humboldt national park, which is important for all the varieties of plants that grow there. Our guide patiently explained the medical use of different plants, the economy of the local agriculture and the history of the national park. Candice and I, however, would have preferred a swifter hike and more time at the beach. At least, it made the decision how to spend the next day easier: less nature walks, more beach. But we did meet more great people on the walk: David and Carla, an Irish-Canadian/Portuguese couple that live in London. They were also on the bus and stayed in the same casa, and two German guys, Uwe and Christian. Uwe I would later meet again in Colombia.

Everybody was at the beach the next day: Uwe and Christian, two German girls, which had also been our bus, plus a Swiss couple, which we would meet again in the club that night and a few days later in Viñales. There they bring me a CD that Yadri had recorded for me that is unfortunately corrupted 😦 I would kill to have the 60 latest Cuban club songs. Finally, Luis turned up at the beach from nowhere. He joined our cab ride home that ended up in complete darkness as the car lights broke down. Note to self: never take a cab after nightfall on non-lit roads in Cuba.

We didn’t trust our eyes, when Luis also appeared at Baracoa airport the next morning. He explained that a friend was going there and he was bored. We are not sure if and what he does for a living. Candice thinks he had explained that you are allowed to leave the country after you have been unemployed for 6 years.

The boarding passes at Baracoa airport, one gate, were hand written and passengers invited through security one by one. The lady crossed each one off on a paper sheet with all seat numbers. The plane smelled weird and my table was broken, so I couldn’t close it for takeoff. Nevertheless, Candice and I were so exhausted, we slept all flight. We had half expected to find Luis knocking onto the plane window from outside halfway through the flight.

In Havana, the cab driver back to Gregory’s asked me if I wanted the car (Lada) window up or down and then used his window handle to scroll mine down. Delightful, those details of Cuban life.

Delightful is also that there is no traffic in Cuba, there is just not enough cars on the road. Often on our long bus journeys, we would briefly get stuck behind a horsedrawn carriage. It is still very commonly used as a mode of transport, more than collective car taxis. At night, a little fire below the carriage serves as a light to make it more visible.

 

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