“Are we there yet?” (Cuba – Part 2)

The bright lights of Havana would soon disappear and we were engulfed in darkness too thick for me to make out any signs along the way. As I leaned back and tried to rest my head against the hard seat, my eyelids began to feel heavy and the road before me became a blur.

It was now almost 7:45 p.m.

Every five minutes or so, I’ll be jolted awake and out would pop the same question, “Are we there yet?”

“Nah. Go back to sleep.” A very tired Garfield would reply.

For these waking minutes I’d try to stay alert by mumbling some gibberish, but then I’d promptly fall right back to sleep shuffling into a new position in a futile attempt to find comfort.

Three hours later, we were still in transit. Garfield gritted his teeth as he tried to stretch his legs in his cramped seat.

“Hush baby. When I get rich, we’ll only travel in luxurious comfort.” I knew by now he must have been in tremendous pain due to existing knee injuries.

The two women behind us were still chatting. Unbelievable!

I was now fully awake, diligently looking for an indication that we were close to our destination.

And suddenly, there it was, a glimmering road sign beckoning to us that we were in Varadero.

“Finally!” we both exclaimed and immediately started to gather ourselves in anticipation of exiting the minivan.

The pitch black emptiness of our journey gave way to lit streets and vibrant pedestrian and vehicular traffic. After about five minutes, the driver slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road.

“Why we stopping? I don’t see any hotel” I asked.

Garfield shrugged.

Out hopped the male passenger in the front.

“Wait! A who a pay him fare?” I asked. “This driver just lose another 10 pounds!” I added

Garfield cracked a smile.

Ten minutes later, we pulled into Breezes Varadero. I have never been happier to see a hotel in all my life!

We quickly exited the bus and this time (maybe wanting to be rid of us) the driver helped us to unload our luggage.

Garfield paid him.

“Thank you, thank you!” he said after receiving the money.

“Oh so him speak English after all! And why him so happy? How much did you pay him?”  I asked as my thoughts and questions collided into each other.

“Fifty-five pounds,”  Garfield answered.

“Wait, you all tip him to!” I was ready to demand our money back.

“Lecia.” He sighed. "I am tired." This was code for please don’t bother to argue with the driver.

It was now 11 p.m.

Breezes, Varadero at last!

The hotel staff was clearly no stranger to looking after tired weary souls. The attendants greeted us with broad welcoming smiles and best of all they spoke English! They wasted no time in checking us in and directing us to the snack bar. We both grabbed a grilled sandwich before being accompanied to our room by a friendly bellman.

At this point, I couldn’t describe the room to you, save to say there was a bed and it was like crawling into heaven.

The morning after

“Leave me alone” I muttered to Garfield as he tried to coax me out of bed to go to breakfast.

“I’m starving, so let’s get something to eat.”

As I stumbled out of bed, wiping away the grit of the night’s sleep, I took the opportunity to survey the room.

“Hey, these curtains kind of remind me of Breezes back home.” I got up and hobbled to the bathroom.

“Wait, we have a whole living room with a flat screen TV!” I exclaimed.

I know this may seem pretty standard for a hotel room, but this was Cuba, and from what I heard I didn’t really expect our room to be outfitted with modern electronics of any sort. I also didn’t expect to have cable channels such as Starz, HBO and CNN. Granted CNN was the only channel in English, and so we would become very knowledgeable in current affairs within the next few days (go ahead, ask me anything about Donald Trump).

“Yes.” Garfield answered in that I-have-already-explored-and-discovered-all-these-things tone of voice. “Now, hurry up!’

“Ohhhh! And look at our balcony, it’s huge!”

“Lecia!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.”

Buzzkill.

Breezes Varadero definitely reminded me of what used to be Breezes, Grand Lido back home. Not so much because of the architecture, but because both hotels pulled off being modern and rustic all in one. With just about 270 rooms, the hotel felt cozy and intimate. The property was beautiful with perfectly manicured lawn lawns and well-tended gardens. I took note of the huge pool in front of the main buffet style dining area and well placed Cabanas for relaxing as we strolled to breakfast.

Are you pregnant?

I must admit I am not a big fan of Cuban food, but even I had to admit that there was indeed something strange about my usually willing-to-explore taste buds wanting nothing but omelets, bacon and French toasts for breakfast, black beans and rice with grilled fish or roast pork for lunch and again at dinner.

It didn’t take long for Breezes’ signature “egg man” to know exactly how to make my eggs and the servers to all greet me with knowing smiles as they piled on the pork and the fish.

By the third day Garfield was bewildered. “So, you not gonna try anything else?”

“Nope.” I shrugged as I continued what had now become a routine of piling my plate with bacon.

“Are you pregnant?” Garfield asked as he looked suspiciously at my plate filled with enough bacon to feed two (maybe four) grown adults.

“Hell no! And if I am you better take it back!” I snapped stuffing my mouth with bacon.

Mind you, the variety of food at the buffet included oxtail, pork cooked in many different ways, chicken, shrimp, octopus, list goes on, but surprisingly I was not much into exploring the food.

My daily bouts of nausea and the bottle of Tums that was now almost finish didn’t help to dispel his suspicion.

His suspicion turned into almost certain conviction when on the night of our anniversary while enjoying the most delicious meal at the hotel’s Cuban restaurant, I had to race from our table to throw up after consuming a few glasses of champagne.

“You can’t have any more champagne! You sure you not pregnant?!” Garfield asked half expectantly and half fearful as he moved the bottle out of my reach.

Eyes fixed on the bottle, my fingers curled around the dinner knife. I smiled sweetly at my dear husband to whom I had been married to for all of three years, pictured myself in a black gown, and then didn’t even bother to reply.

La Playa!

Get ready to eat dust, Jamaica!

I know it sounds really bad and even a bit unpatriotic, but honestly when I saw the beach, my jaw dropped. Literally. It’s hands down the most beautiful beach I have ever seen… in real life, up close.

When you see the beach, you’ll know why Varadero is the largest hotel resort in the Caribbean with over 60 hotels along the peninsula.

Imagine if you will, 20 kilometers of pristine white sand beach where you can easily walk out to about 80 metres  and the water would still  barely reach you above waist (and I’m only 5 feet 3 inches). Imagine, clear transparent water reflecting shades of blue and turquoise, white powder sand embracing your feet as you stroll along the endless stretch of beach.

Now, picture yourself lying on a cabana, being lulled asleep by the chirping of birds and the delicate whoosh of the water as it collides with the shore. Feel the light golden rays of sun kissing your skin as you relax with a good book and a pina colada.

One word: heaven.

For the first time in ages, I actually forgot about work as I got lost in the strange, fictional novel I had picked up at the resort’s beach club “library”. O.K. it’s not really a library, but the towel guy has this really cool practise of collecting books. So you can leave a book that you’ve finished reading or simply exchange it for any one of his. Cool, huh?

Exploring Cardenas

As gorgeous as the beaches were, our trip wouldn't be complete if we didn't  explore Varadero.

We excitedly ventured out consulting  with the hotel’s security guard who confidently told us that the town was just fifteen minutes away. Forty-five minutes later we were still walking.

“That security is either a really bad judge of time or we are lost” I said to Garfield, relieved as he flagged down a cab.

Our cab driver spoke Spanglish and from what he said, we deciphered that he planned to take us to the “real Cuba” and the not the “silly tourist town”. And so he drove us into Cardenas “The city of Crabs” which announces itself with giant concrete crab on side of the main road heading into the centre of the town.

Cardenas has very narrow streets and as we’d soon come to learn about most of Cuba, the paint had long worn off from most, if not all, of the buildings. When we enquired why, we were told that Fidel Castro had once declared, “People can’t eat paint!”

Horses drawn carriages, vintage cars and bicycles competed for what little space there was on the confined roads, but our driver skillfully navigated it all. Soon, we were at our first stop, the home of Elian Gonzalez. (Remember the controversy between Cuba and USA in 2000 over the immigration status of young Gonzalez whose mother drowned while trying to get to USA?)

Then we visited a fire station turned restaurant nearby. It was getting late, so we quickly drove through a couple of squares, stopped at a park and the ornate parish church for pictures and then had the most delicious ice-cream in a cozy romantic ice-cream parlour.

Fun fact: Between 1929 and 1959, Cubans were banned from Varadero unless they owned property or were servants or guests. One of the first things the Castro government did in 1959 was to open up the beaches to all Cubans. The wealthy property owners fled and their properties were confiscated. (Source: visitcuba.com)

Hop-on Hop-off tour

That same night when we returned to the hotel, we had dinner with the manager. He was Jamaican and was as happy to dine with us as we were to dine with him. Finally! Someone who spoke English and Patois!

After sharing our adventures, he confirmed that we had indeed taken the wrong route. He cautioned us against taking random taxis and promised to arrange a reliable cab for the rest of our tours. For seeing Varadero, he encouraged us to simply catch the Hop-on Hop-off Varadero tour bus which made round trips every thirty minutes and could be caught just a few chains outside the hotel. Basically, for five CUC apiece we got to hop on and off these tour buses which would take us throughout Varadero. Yippee!

The next morning, after having breakfast and lounging at the beach, we headed out to tour Varadero once again. The Hop-on Hop-off tour was awesome! We drove the entire stretch of the peninsula and got a peek at the string of over sixty hotels and the many others under construction.

Watch out, Jamaica!

The touristy town of Varadero itself is a bit like the hip strip of Montego Bay, that is, if today’s Mobay time travelled into the 50s. The beachside resort town was filled with a combination of chic boutiques, fairly modern buildings and craft markets. Unlike Cardenas, however, these buildings were brightly painted and the streets were much wider and filled with Cadalliacs from the 50s and 60s, horse-drawn carriages and coco taxis. And we couldn’t stop taking pictures!

The pursuit of Wi-Fi

Cuba’s mode of transportation isn’t the only thing that’s trapped in time. So too is Cuba’s lack of internet access. And even though I tried to warn Garfield, it’s as if he didn’t quite understand that Wi-Fi doesn’t come standard with traveling.

Armed with tons of photos, he was more than eager to upload it all to Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. Having had no success at the hotel, he was intent on finding Wi-Fi as we toured Varadero. Forget shopping! At every hop off we’d go in search of Wi-Fi.

When we got to the American Shopping Mall, his eyes lit up and he did a happy jig when the mall’s Wi-Fi popped up on his phone. Off we went, in search of the password. When we finally got to the internet café, we were told that the internet and Wi-Fi worked occasionally, but it hadn’t been working for some time. I swear, I saw a tear form at the corner of my husband’s eyes.

Never being one to give up easily, he was soon insisting that we had to get off the tour and return to the huge green building we passed along the way.

“And what is at the green building?” I asked trying not to roll my eyes.

“It’s the telephone company, so they must have Wi-Fi there!”

Hmph! Remain silent Lecia, remain silent.

And so we got off and walked back to the green building.

He excitedly opened the glass doors and we were enthusiastically greeted by the attendant of a busy furniture and electronics store.

Trying not to snicker, I asked as kindly as I could, “So honey, where did you see the phone company?

“I could a swear!”

Seeing how crushed he was, I feigned sympathy while secretly gloating that there was no Wi-Fi as I had predicted.

Any sane human being would by now accept his fate and settle into enjoying his vacation without Wi-Fi. Right? No, not my husband. Of course, I didn’t marry a rational human being, and so up and down the streets of Varadero he dragged me, stopping in almost every shop to ask the same question only to receive the same answer, “No, we do not have internet or Wi-Fi.”

“Oh jeesh! Can we give it a rest?!”

After a few more unsuccessful stops, he sheepishly agreed.

And as I was doing mental somersaults at his admission of defeat, he suddenly proclaimed, “In any event, we must find Wi-Fi when we go to Havana tomorrow!”

Oh. Dear. God. Kill. Me. Now!

Have you ever been to Cuba? Please share your experience with us!