Further thoughts about Havana

It took me a day or two to realize notice but then I really appreciated that Havana has little or no public advertising. I saw no billboards or sponsorship of bus stops or any other such commercialism. Lovely.

Havana need not be an expensive city. I paid a lot for a chic hotel (previously checked out on my behalf by Sting and Jimmy Carter) but could have found comfort for a lot less. Meals in the excellent restaurants I enjoyed cost no more than they would have in Ottawa and a lot less than they would have in Oslo. Drinks are cheap everywhere. As I remembered from Veradero in the 1980s a Cuba Libre is hardly tainted by Coke – because Coke costs more than the rum. Bartenders free-pour absently and will top Cuba Libres up with rum once you make some space. Mojitos are made sweeter than I prefer but you can ask them to use less sugar. I am not an expert in rum – I enjoyed the stuff that is cheaper and safer than the water but I saw a 15 year old bottle for $125.

I had dreamed of travelling to Santiago de Cuba and back on the ‘tren francais’ which I learned about from The Man In Seat 61. I couldn’t find which days it runs anywhere on-line so I wrote to ask my hotel but they never answered. Perhaps they only use the "INTERNET" for bookings. The driver of my taxi from the airport said it hadn’t run for a year and I didn’t investigate much more because it seemed unlikely that I could fit that expedition into a week – and because I was enjoying Havana so much.

Havana is an excellent place for people who like to look at women who care about the way they look. Current fashion seems to include mini skirts and patterned stockings – even if the wearer is a police officer. The other mode is tight low-rise jeans and every woman wears high heels. Age is no limit.

Almost every tourist restaurant has live music and every other restaurant plays music all the time. I found music as prevalent as in Angola but Cuban’s don’t seem to dance as spontaneously. The instruments are always drums and guitars and percussion and often flutes. I’m pretty sure every single song was about love gained, love lost, or love carrying nicely on just for the time being.

Havana is not a good place to avoid Americans. They may have had to arrive via Panama or Toronto but that doesn’t stop them. Cuban authorities famously don’t stamp passports and I am now kicking myself for forgetting to ask for mine. I read a Cuban book (The Cuba Project: CIA covert operations 1959-62 – The Secret War, by Fabián Escalante, former head of the Cuban Secret Service) and visited a couple museums so I got a good refresher on Cuban propaganda (which I think is no more or less over the top than American propaganda) but the only public anti-American sentiment I noticed was posters calling for America to provide compassionate visas for divided families. Canadians are adored but I had to participate in the normal conversation I’ve heard a hundred times in a dozen countries as follows:

Friendly local person (insert ‘Cuban’, ‘Afghan’, etc.): “Where are you from, Friend?”

Me (with resignation): “Canada”

F.L.P.: “Which city? Toronto?”

Me (knowing what’s coming next): “No. Ottawa. The capital”

F.L.P.: “Really? I have a cousin/brother/sister/uncle/aunt/daughter/son/cat in Toronto”.