Havana Running Part 10- Good Morning and Goodbye

Dawn breaks over Havana, the Moon and Venus bright.  Looks like a beautiful day to fly.

Preview: What Would Hemmingway Do?

Part 1: Relaxing

Part 2: I Promise Not To Call This Sleepless In Seattle

Part 3: Just Sit Anywhere

Part 4: Taking It South

Part 5: Bienvenido a La Habana

Part 6: Day Into Night

Part 7: When the Rooster Crows

Part 8: Shopping, Stumbling Through Havana

Part 9: When Life Gives You a Night In Cuba...

Without fail, the rooster work me up the next day well before my alarm.  And my alarm was early, so this chicken was the definition of the 'early bird.'  I'm not bitter.  Not at all. I got myself up and dressed in time to see the sun start to rise over the city.  I have to groggily admit it was beautiful. 

I'd arranged for a taxi the day before with the owner of my casa, and the driver was waiting at 6:30.  I said goodbye to Jorge and got in the car, which this time was one of the classic cars I'd seen around the city.  It just completed the check list of 'things to do in Havana' for me.  Sure it was slow, bouncy, and loud, but it's 'what you do' here at least once.

They tell you to arrive at HAV airport early- at least hours, if not 3, for flights to the US.  I get the precaution, as I've heard about long slowly moving lines for check in and passport control, but I could have been through all the checkpoints and waiting at the gate in 20 minutes or less this particular morning. As a caveat, I wasn't checking luggage, and I could use the priority check in for AA, which didn't have much of a line.



What my return luggage looked like. 

 Why I didn't make it through to the gate in 20 minutes, though, was that I hadn't calculated perfectly the money I changed to do my cigar shopping, and as a result had some extra CUCs to change back.  This was probably the first time I really understood some of the frustration with getting things done in Cuba.  There clearly was a money exchange by the check in.  When I went there and got to the front of the line asking for USD back, they promptly acted like they were closed, didn't speak any English, and told me to go downstairs.  I went downstairs, and they sent me upstairs.  This continued for several go-rounds until the original place grudgingly decided to understand me finally and changed my money back.   

 

Of course there was a fee in addition to the one I'd paid to change it in the first place. If you plan well enough, bring Euros or Pesos for a better exchange rate, but for a short trip I didn't bother.

 

 The Havana airport is small, unsurprisingly, but does have some places to get a quick snack or coffee, as well as some duty free shops that were well utilized.  The departures hall for international flights is basically one room and serves everything.  I saw non-stops to Madrid and Berlin, alongside the little guys headed to Cancun and Miami.

 

 

As would be expected, the gate on the boarding pass wasn't the one we actually departed from, and I don't remember hearing any kind of formal audible announcement about the gate change.  However, it didn't matter much since everything was in such close quarters.  I saw the inbound plane pulling in, and just moved over to where it eventually parked. As always, it's a comforting thing to see the "American Tail" roll up to the gate in a foreign country.  Familiar in the foreign. 

 

 

Impressively, we boarded more or less on time and with minimal confusion and pushed back on schedule.  The flight crew was pleasant, even though (or maybe because) they seemed new to the job, and even more new to international flights.  We took off and got a last look at Havana out of the windows before heading back north.  It was a bit of a hazy morning, so the views weren't as dramatic as the way up, but still worth the time. 

 

 

 I had mixed feelings about hearing the initial decent announcement- mainly that my phone would finally work again....but also that my phone would work again.  Inevitable is as inevitable does though, and when we touched down I hurriedly switched back off of airplane mode to see what the world had been up to in the last 48 hours.

After we got off the plane, we had a long hike from one end of MIA to the other to go through customs.  Much to my relief, I had absolutely zero issues getting through.  I have Global Entry, and it worked exactly like it does for every other destination.  No one wanted to see my proof of being a journalist or otherwise.  I was through and into the departures area again in a matter of minutes.

One more flight down, a few more to go.

~CruisingAltitude

Havana Running Part 9- When Life Gives You a Night In Cuba...

 

.....Add new friends and maybe a little vodka.

But first, the story so far:

Preview: What Would Hemmingway Do?

Part 1: Relaxing

Part 2: I Promise Not To Call This Sleepless In Seattle

Part 3: Just Sit Anywhere

Part 4: Taking It South

Part 5: Bienvenido a La Habana

Part 6: Day Into Night

Part 7: When the Rooster Crows

Part 8: Shopping, Stumbling Through Havana

 

So, funny story.  I don't quite know what piqued my interest in the restaurant I wound up in on Sunday night.  Maybe it was current events, maybe it was history.  Or, maybe it was just my need to see a sunset over the water- I was visiting an island after all.

 

Whatever the purpose, the result was that as the afternoon wore on and I was feeling proud of myself for wrapping up my bit of shopping, I found myself walking toward the Malecon- the sea wall and promenade that makes up the northern boarder of the city.  I hadn't made it all the way to the water yet in my exploring, so I wanted to check it out.

To get there I passed El Floridita, and cut through toward the capital building.  This area is made up of cleaner, wider streets and avenues.  It has some of the city's only 'luxury' stores, and many of the larger hotels.  It's decidedly more 'upscale' feeling than the narrow streets of Habana Vieja, but possibly less charming as well. 
 

Between the capital and the start of the Malecon you head up Paseo De Marti, which has a raised median for pedestrians that serves as just about everything this time of day- impromptu market, dance hall, skate park, and art gallery.  It extends for several blocks, and takes you to the waterfront eventually. 

It just so happens that one of the more intriguing and random recommendations I came across in my trip planning was for a soviet themed/run/founded/inspired restaurant in this area that was rumored to have a great view of the water.  This is what happens when you spend your week before a trip googling "Havana Restaurant View."  Apparently, these are the keywords to a memorable time that leaves you feeling confused the next time you are within range of current newscasts.

 

Something about this prospect just seemed strange (and maybe a little timely) enough that I needed to check it out for myself.  As it turned out, it wasn't hard to find.  Between the red flag flying from the 3rd floor balcony, and the friendly man at the door holding a menu I pretty much sorted out I'd found it.
 

 

I headed up three flights of narrow stairs (which at this point in the trip has become par for the course) passing Soviet era posters all the way, and found myself in a modestly sized restaurant with both inside and terrace tables.  The interior was air conditioned, but the view outside was what I came for.  I found a shady table on the balcony and a waiter brought me the menus.  One for food, and one for vodka, all printed in Spanish, Cyrillic, and English. The menu also provided the backstory for the restaurant, as well as some useful proverbs....

 

Since it was still well before sunset, I started with a drink and took some time to just relax after the afternoon of hiking around the city.  The place wasn't full, so I didn't feel bad ordering slowly.  It takes a significant amount of time for the over-connected, information saturated of us to get used to being out of touch, and to start to enjoy the feeling.  It was about half way through my vodka tonic that I really started to unwind. 

The road below wasn't too busy- a few classic cars and busses going by, and the water just a few feet beyond that was calm.  This city is growing on me.

My trips of late have been taking me to places that are the opposite of this- all overly hyped, modern cities that have had such rapid expansion that in many ways culture and charm haven't had a chance to keep up.  They are breathtaking and luxurious, but also exhausting to try and explore.  Many also use their skylines and fast trains to distract from the large part of their residents who haven't had the good fortune to be part of the success. 

Havana doesn't allow for this- there's no cover up.  What you see (and you will see a lot you might not have been expecting) is pretty much just what you get.  The city is a mix of renovated history, crumbling landmarks, and passivity about it all.  You might get woken up by a chicken at 4am, but no one's pretending he's not there for the sake of a 5-star rating, and they'll proudly serve you fresh eggs with breakfast.

I did eventually order an appetizer and another drink, though I couldn't quite bring myself to have the perogies or borsht on an 85deg afternoon.  I went with a salad with pickled vegetables that was surprisingly generous and refreshing.  Here, as just about everywhere I went, the prices were extremely reasonable by foreign standards- drinks for $3-$4, meals for $10. 

 As these trips tend to go, I ended up chatting with some other travelers from the US the next table over.  From this, and the other people I met in transit, I can say that the current visa requirements seem quite relaxed.  No one I met had a strictly defined 'reason' for their trip, and no one seems to have had any issues.  It's still a good idea to familiarize yourself with the current rules and to have everything in place in advance so you know what to say and where to go. 

 

 

It did eventually become sunset, which did not disappoint.  Everyone stopped to take pictures as the sun disappeared over the water.  The night started to finally cool off, and eventually I headed back through the city to the Plaza Vieja to get dinner closer to 'home.'  I'll say again how safe it felt walking around, even cutting through the edge of 'Centro' at night.  Again, not clean and shiny by any means, but safe.

 

 

What's also striking about Havana is that the entire city is a giant urban art gallery.  Mingling with the obviously commissioned sculpture and the intricate building facades is a multitude of impromptu wall art, murals, and shops selling paintings everywhere.  You get the feeling that this is just part of the culture...because there's time for such pursuits.  And not in the full-time, starving artist trying to make it big and get a wealthy patron way, but in an organic, 'because I can, and I should' way. 

 

Just one more reason to make days in Havana long, even if it makes the nights short.  Up next- an early morning to start the trip home.

 

~CruisingAltitude

 







Havana Running Part 7- When the Rooster Crows

 

Morning wandering around Havana, after some strong coffee.

I did eventually give in and go home for the night, and tried to get a good night's sleep.  The bed wasn't the most comfortable I've ever had, but it also wasn't the worst.  Around 6 am I woke up to the unmistakable sound of a rooster crowing??? What the???

 

Now, as you may or may not know, long before my Los Angeles living and mile chasing days, I grew up in a rural and rather secluded part of Washington State on a small farm in the woods.  This is all preface to say that it's not the first time in my life I've been woken by poultry, or various other critters.  It is, however the one and only time I've been woken by a chicken on a mileage run.

 

Needless to say, at this point I was still exhausted from my trip down, and a little extra from the Mojitos.  I spent the next two hours dozing and waking again every time the rooster crowed, wondering where the heck a chicken would be hanging out in this dense part of the city, and thinking spitefully about ordering arroz con pollo for lunch the first chance I got.  

 

Eventually, I gave in and wandered out to breakfast, where my questions were answered.  As I enjoyed Jorge's breakfast of fresh fruit, bread, and eggs with Cuban sausage, I looked around to realize that I was, in fact, sharing the rooftop with several hens, and an (admittedly cute) bantam rooster. 

 

Thankfully, the strong Cuban coffee that came with it managed to knock off the cobwebs left by the prior evening, and in about an hour all was forgiven.  I was ready to take care of what little business I needed to on this trip (besides writing about it) which was buying some cigars for a friend.  That bit of adventure is next. 

 

Buenos Dias,

 

~CruisingAltitude