2016 is here! I’ve taken a few weeks off over the summer holidays and moved into a new apartment; between unpacking boxes, hanging out with my daughter over school holidays and catching up with all my visiting overseas friends, I forgot to share my personal pictures of Cuba with you all! But here they are…and along with it, a diary entry I wrote in Havana. Hope you enjoy my peek into this amazing city…
My worn out desk at the Palacio O’Farrill hotel is decorated by an old landline phone and a quickly warming pina colada while I listen to the tropical rain cooling Old Havana. This is my 4th hotel in 4 days ; it was busy when I tried to book almost a month ago, even the nice private accomodation at the so called casas particulares was gone so all I could get was single nights at various hotels. It seems the whole world fervently wants to come see Cuba before the country loses it’s decrepit nostalgic beauty when (if?) the sanctions are lifted.
On my first day at Hotel Florida there were no panes on my room’s balcony doors so I was welcomed to this seaside town by the heaving noise of Havana’s busy main street below me and when the night fell ,humid and heavy with a blanket of heat, the sound of whistling men and laughing women reverberating through the dusty neighborhood. Down in the lobby bar mojitos flowed by the double while couples danced the salsa; Latino men and women oozing unbridled hips, wet skin and well practiced sensuality.
Havana is both beautiful and haggard, fresh and utterly filthy, excitingly full of opportunity and completely stuck in the past. On one corner there are newly paved streets and colourful walls but turn left and it’s all crubling balconies and reek of dead chickens rotting on the road while huge vultures circle the skies waiting to claim these Santeria offerings to the Orisha. If Havana were a person, it would be both the one legged old man I photographed on the merikon where the old city walls meet the sea, and a happy little girl on her way to school with a faux LV bag and stars in her eyes. It is those that wearily improvise and upkeep everything with a dogged resignation under the lead backpack of the embargo, but also those that are sarcastically twisting the rules like any of today world’s hipsters trying to create a new kind of utopia with their little makeshift bars and great organic food. It is insanely awesome mid century architecture that will take your breath away and cold soviet era buildings greying and peeling in the island sun. It’s also: fragrant peanuts in white paper cones, 1 peso rickshaw rides ,huge papayas sold by handsome mulatos, billboards of revolutionary slogans instead of advertising, hotels whose star ratings are not an indictment of quality but a representation of a time long gone and people that will either try to fleece you or charm your socks off or both.
To be honest , I wouldn’t have it any other way – I had such a fun time here exploring the streets, meeting people, drinking white rum in all it’s incarnations, riding in an old pink car while the sun pounded bleached out neighborhoods and dancing the hot nights away. Don’t go a changing Cuba Linda!
Hotel Terrigal (newly renovated)
Hotel Serratoga (what’s good for Bey & Jay Z…)
Hotel National (iconic)
Chanchullero (Brazil between Christo and Bernaza )
Sia Kara Cafe
Rooftop Hemingway hotel
La Terraza for great bbq
walk the streets and practice spanish
go to a salsa show and dance the night away
take the Havana tour in an old car
visit the close by beaches for a day trip
lounge by the pool at hotel Nacional
drink a lot of mojito
Favorite city tour guide:
Matias Da Via
With thanks to new friends and wide horizons <3