After visiting the Hotel Colonial for the first time in November 2015 (http://ontario-nature.blogspot.ca/2016/10/cayo-coco-cubatwo-weeks-at-hotel.html), we had such a great time that at that time we decided to visit it again—and 14 months later, on January 12, 2017, after the shortest flight ever from Toronto to Cuba (3 hours and 7 minutes), we arrived in Cayo Coco.
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| View from our hotel window, room 1642 |
The flight (Sunwing) was good, although for the
first time no meals were included in the price of the ticket (which did not
bother me at all). Upon arrival, at the departure area of the Cayo Coco
airport, I went to obtain some Cuban money, but the exchange rate was really
bad, just 67 CUC for $100 CAN. Unfortunately, the same rate was offered at the
hotel’s reception desk. On the other hand, at the bank in Ciego de Avila I got
72.50 CUC for $100 CAN (although the clerk initially made a ‘mistake’,
shortchanging me by 20 CUC). Because of the poor exchange rate, we brought with
us plenty of US one-dollar bills which were perfect for tipping and no one
seemed to complain—well, after all, “pecunia
non olet”! Some tourists claim that we should always tip in the local currency—especially
because it is difficult for Cubans to exchange US dollars into CUCs (there is a
10% surcharge). I agree—and as soon as the Cuban government stops cheating
tourists on the exchange rates, we will tip in CUCs! And at least we did tip, unlike
many of the Russian tourists.
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| Room #1642 |
The bus ride to the hotel took
just over 20 minutes. We immediately saw Viviana and Michael from Public
Relations whom we had met during our previous trip. In no time we settled in
our very nice and cozy corner room #1642.
Whereas Canadians constituted
the majority of tourist, there were also a lot of Russians and some tourists
from Argentina. Apparently American tourists had not ‘discovered’ Cayo Coco yet
and there were none (save for my friend); even the staff hardly ever had any
encounters with them.
ROOM(S)
Our room #1642 was very nice,
but unfortunately, the raucous entertainment in the swimming pool area (bingo +
obnoxious techno music with DJ yelling) was very bothersome and it often
continued till 5:00 pm, causing Catherine to have a headache. After a few days
we asked to be moved (thanks, Viviana!) and ended up in room number 3066 which
was much better: it offered a great view of both the ocean and the lagoon as
well as was located very far from any entertainment area. We could also see the
partially-finished canal that was going to connect the lagoon with the ocean.
Since the workers’ pick-up and drop-off area was nearby, we sometimes heard the
buses blowing their horns and saw latecomers, dashing to catch the last bus
home—or risk spending the night in the resort!
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| Room #3066 |
Both rooms had a free safe, HD
TV, bathtub, two large beds, balcony and a small fridge. Although we do not
watch TV back in Canada, we did watch it in Cuba mainly because of the upcoming
inauguration of President Donald Trump. Unfortunately, there were no Canadian
channels, only the CNN and some English Chinese stations (CCTV). I was shocked
at the CNN coverage—it was extremely limited, over 95% of the ‘news’ pertained
to the USA and essentially almost exclusively focused on the presidential
inauguration, nearly ignoring any other events happening in the world. I pity
those whose the only source of news is the CNN!
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| Building 30 |
The maid did an excellent job
cleaning the room and usually left a bottle of mineral water and we always
showed her our gratitude. Once we had an electrical problem and called the
reception; in no time an electrician showed up, a very nice man, who quickly
rectified it. Another issue with the safe (namely, dead batteries) was swiftly
solved by Señor Prado—as well as a
plumber fixed the toilet tank which sometimes did not hold the water.
FOOD
As always, we never had any
difficulties with finding something tasteful and delicious. Breakfasts were
served at the Restaurant Buffet Plaza.
Every day I had eggs or omelet—as well as excellent pancakes! In additions,
there were plenty of salads & fruits, breads, sausages, cheese and meat
slices. One day Catherine ‘discovered’ crepes and from then on had several
every morning. The hot buffet also featured, among others, blood sausage,
boiled eggs, onions, potatoes and ‘pork sausage of pig’ (!). Since I did not
drink coffee, I enjoyed a few glasses of yogurt. We could always count on very
nice and efficient servers, who promptly brought coffee for Catherine (in
carafes) and removed dirty dishes.
The dinner was served at the Grand Salon Rocamar Restaurant and every
evening there was something scrumptious! I loved fried shrimps, served several
times during our stay-but unfortunately, we had to come very early and still
ended up spending up to 30 minutes lining up to the shrimp/fish station—but it
was certainly worth the wait! A few times I had delicious lamb and beef,
prepared at the grill station. The cold buffet featured various salads,
including good and healthy spinach, snails, peas, cheeses, potato salad,
deviled eggs, and lots of raw, shredded & cooked veggies. Not too many
tomatoes and very little greens. Assuming this stuff was organic, one could eat
very healthy. We always nabbed a table outside where we were visited by a
couple of hungry dogs.
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| Ranchon Hemingway |
Although we never had lunch at
the restaurant, we often went to the beach bar (Ranchon Hemingway) and got beer, Pina coladas, grilled
hamburgers, ham, cheese, tuna, vegetable and chicken sandwiches, hot dogs and
French fries. However it closed around 3:00 pm, much too early. Maybe they ran
out of food by then as it was a popular spot with the privileged workers. In
fact Catherine lined up to get a gardener several burgers after he pulled at
her heartstrings one afternoon.
Sometimes we got drinks from
the bars, but I usually had my bubba mug filled with cold beer and sipped it
while on the beach. The lobby bar served excellent Spanish coffee.
We had two a ’la carte dinners at other restaurants
(one was called Caribe); they were
good, but we preferred the regular buffet, which gave us more choice in food
selection. Felix was our very polite and fast waiter—later he was also working
in the beach bar.
Churros, made-to-order in the
evening near the 24 hour bar were delicious and we had to use plenty of our
willpower not to have too many servings!
I cannot comment on the
nightly entertainment as we never attended any performance. We did not like,
however, the very earsplitting activities taking place around the pool; once,
when they finally stopped, those relaxing around the pool began
applauding-finally, they were actually able to start relaxing! Certainly we
were not the only ones that did not appreciate this kind of ‘entertainment’.
Some years ago I had purchased
several CDs with Cuban music, called “5
Leyendas De Cuba”, featuring Eliades Ochoa, Compay Segundo, Ibrahim Ferrer,
Omar Portuondo and Ruben Gonzales as well as a two-disk set with music of Benny
Moore. Quite often I listen to this wonderful music at home in Canada. Yet for
some mysterious reasons, I hardly had a chance to listen to this music at Cuban
resorts… What a pity!
BEACH
The beach was great! In 2015
we mainly used the stretch of the beach near building #18 and sometimes it
became quite narrow during the high tides. This time we enjoyed the section
near buildings 30 and 31, it was much wider and very pleasant. One day we saw a
bunch of stingrays very close to the shore. Some approached swimmers, but very
quickly took off. I did not notice too many bugs on the beach (e.g., sand
flies), but one day, when the storm rolled in, the sandflies were horrid. From
time to time we did encounter a mosquito. Although I brought a can of anti-bug
spray, I never used it and eventually gave it to the staff.
The beach got very crowded
when the weather was nice and reserving a favorite spot early in the morning
was a must. There were enough loungers stacked in piles, but you had to find
the beach guy or drag them yourself to an available location—“early bird got the
worm”. There were shade stalls, palapas
and some trees. Around 10:00 am some tourists participated in stretching
exercises on the beach, but the timing was not very good (right after
breakfast) and thus there were not too many participants. Of course Catherine
quickly joined them! Lots of people actually went swimming especially the
Russians. Large groups of French Canadians congregated at our end of the beach
and after a few too many got very raucous.
WEATHER
Because it was January and we
were in the north part of Cuba, we were prepared for somewhat cooler weather,
but it turned out to be better than anticipated. It was windy for a couple of
days, once a big front suddenly moved in early afternoon, the sky turned black
and the wind kicked up and it poured for a few hours, but otherwise it was warm
during the day and even in the evening I never had to put on a sweater—a
long-sleeved shirt was sufficient. It was mostly sunny and we spent plenty of
time sun tanning on the beach (when we were in Ciego de Avila, it was almost
hot during the day). The room had a working air conditioner, but most of the
time we slept with the windows open and curtain drawn, to prevent mosquitos
from entering the room.
HOTEL
The hotel, resembling a small
Spanish colonial village, was quite charming; perhaps other hotels have better
facilities and higher standards, but they cannot beat the Colonial’s unique
look! Just across from the main building there were several ‘tiendas’ which sold alcoholic drinks,
cigars, clothing, beverages, souvenirs and books. There was also a medical and
dental clinic.
The hotel staff were
invariably very friendly and helpful. The gardeners were busy cleaning the
hotel grounds and always willing to get us a delicious coconut, especially
since Catherine gave one of them a big bag of clothes she had brought over for
donation. The grounds were natural with nice flora, sculptured benches and
lighting. It was possible to do a continuous circuit route around the grounds
for joggers, speed walkers and lollygaggers. Several dogs and cats were
wandering around the property, but they were not too intrusive—it was the birds
that took every opportunity to steal food from the plates! The lone flamingo
was still residing near the restaurant; this time he had a company of three
lazy ducks that probably were attracted by the food the hotel employees were
giving to the flamingo.
There were copies of “Granma” at the reception, some in the
English language. On several occasions I chatted with Frank, who spoke very
good English. There were a number of taxis at the main square and probably the
best way to get one was to just get their phone number and later call them.
There were 2 pools, one large,
round, chlorinated at the Tryp side
and a serpentine salt water pool with swim up bar at the lagoon side. We did
not use either, but enjoyed walking past them at night as they were lit up and
looked magical.
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| Over-the water bungalows at the Iberostar Mojito Hotel-unfortunately, semi-abandoned |
One afternoon we walked on the
beach, past the Tryp Hotel, and
reached the Iberostar Mojito Hotel. The resort had been created by
Canadian hockey players and used to be called “El Senador”. Former NHL star and captain of the Montreal Canadiens, Serge Savard, was
also part owner. The name "El
Senador" was a reference to his nickname "Le Senateur" (The Senator). There were plenty of over-water
bungalows, accessible by wooden walkways—they seemed to be awesome places to
stay in—except that all of them were boarded up and the plumbing was visibly
disconnected! Then we spotted a nice restaurant and started talking to one of
the waitresses.
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| At the Iberostar Mojito |
The next day, in the evening,
we again walked along the beach to the Iberostar
Mojito (it was low tide and we were told that it would be possible for us
to return along the beach as well) and had a very intimate dinner there. A few
hours later, when we walking back to our hotel, we realized that... there was
no beach! Of course, the high tide had arrived and it was impossible to take
the same route back to our hotel (although Catherine somehow wanted to still
walk there, in total darkness—well, she must have been not only a spectacular
swimmer, but also had a ‘built-in’ natural GPS!). So we turned back to the main
building and while pondering whether or not to take a taxi back to the hotel,
we had a couple of drinks to fortify our problem-solving ability. The drinks
certainly helped—and eventually we hiked about 2 km to the Colonial. The road
was deserted, but well-lit and we enjoyed the stroll.
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| At the Lobby Bar |
We brought with us a number of
new shirts (some still in original packaging from Target and Walmart and with
attached price tags from $12.99 to $39.99) which we used in lieu of tips. Some
tourists are dead against giving any gifts to Cubans, claiming that by doing
so, we spoil them, that such actions are degrading or that Cubans do not really
need such stuff.
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| Gardener at Hotel Colonial |
Therefore, I made a point of
discussing this issue with several Cubans who spoke English. I explained to
them the various opinions on giving gifts, and asked them if they really felt
in any way degraded or humiliated by me giving them such gifts. All of them
were invariably very surprised at what I told them, did not agree with such
points of view and said that they were absolutely grateful for the gifts and
appreciated them very much. Well, at least we had a clear conscience!
In addition, I brought a bunch
of most recent magazines (mostly “The Economist”), bilingual brochures
and Canadian newspapers. Those Cubans who spoke English were quite thrilled to
get them. A few years ago, after talking for a while to a hotel employee, I had
given him some magazines & newspapers. A few days later he had run into me
and started asking questions about some new articles and words—as well as
inquired if I had more of such periodicals.
I brought two books to read in
Cuba. The first one, “The Lords of Discipline” by Pat Conroy, was about
four young cadets in a military academy, exposed to a totally new environment,
new rules and the code of honor—as well as the injustice of a corrupt
institution. It was an excellent, compelling story. Considering that the author
himself had attended a military academy, “The Citadel”, it can be
assumed that his book was based on authentic characters and events. Many years
ago I had watched a movie having the same title, but I hardly remembered it—it
was certainly mediocre and forgettable in comparison to the book.
The second book was “Kane
and Abel” by Jeffrey Archer, the so-called “Special 30th
Anniversary Edition”, rewritten by the author (or, as he said, “re-crafted”).
The story follows the life of two men, born on the same day, one in the United
States, in a very rich family, the other one in Poland, a semi-orphan.
Eventually they became sworn enemies while building their fortunes—and their
lives became astonishingly intertwined. It was very well written and indeed, I
agree that it was “an unputdownable story”. In the 1980s it was turned into a
movie or a mini-series which was quite good. In fact, some scenes were made in
Toronto and I had even seen an ad in a newspaper—they had been seeking ‘extras
of Polish origin’ for this movie and I had considered applying, but for unknown
reasons had not. What a pity—I could have been a movie star—or at the very
least gotten my proverbial 15 minutes of fame!
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| The Flamingo and one of his lazy friends |
THE HOP-ON-HOP-OFF BUS
We took the double-decker bus
twice (5 CUC per day per person), getting off at the Memories Flamenco. Then we walked to the Melia Jardines del Rey and Pestana
Cayo Coco, spending a few hours at each of them—by the way, we saw a
sizable snake on the road, probably run over by a car. Even though the
wristbands we were wearing had a different color from those in the hotels we
visited, the bartenders were happy to serve us drink, hoping to get a tip. One
of the hotels happened to have the same wristbands as ours (yellow), so we felt
like at home and even took advantage of their buffet. I noticed that one hotel
had plenty of Polish tourist, but no Russians—I guess it all depends on tour
operators and travel agents in each country, which hotels they are marketing
there. In the late afternoon the bus arrived and took us to Playa Pillar and then back to our hotel.
Even though it kept stopping at numerous resorts along the way, it was a very
enjoyable outing.
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| This Russian tourist wanted to have several photos taken in front of this antique car--and then hopped on the hood, totally ignoring protests of the driver |
The bus also stopped at the
nearby commercial center which was basically a handicraft market with some
bottled liquors/beverages—I did not buy anything except for a bottle of
liquor—I simply did not notice anything really extraordinary and creative. The
bus schedule was posted at each hotel, yet it was always a good idea to confirm
it with the driver.
TRIP TO CIEGO DE AVILA
Whenever we go to Cuba, we
always try to visit a nearby town and spent a couple of nights there. Last time
we were in Cayo Coco we had visited Moron, so this time we wanted to see the
city of Ciego de Avila. As always, I had spent several hours online, getting
information on all the casas in the
city, so we had a good idea where to stay.
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| Casa Yolanda-our room |
We hired a taxi (60 CUC each
way), whose driver did not speak much English, but spoke… Russian: he had spent
some time in Russia/Soviet Union and his wife was from there! We left the Hotel
Colonial on January 20, 2017 and as we were heading towards Ciego de Avila,
Donald Trump became president of the United States (unbelievable, eh?), so we
missed watching his inauguration on TV. Incidentally, while in Havana in 2009,
we had watched the inauguration of President Barack Obama on TV in the lobby of
the Hotel Ambos Mundos (where Ernest Hemingway used to live). Because he
was the first black president, it was an unbelievable event, too!
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| Casa Yolanda |
We had the descriptions and a
few photos of about 10 casas particulares
and the previous day we called and booked Casa
Mari y Gustavo, basing our choice on the information from the Internet and
a photo or two. When we arrived there, we got a disappointing shock—the balcony
was enshrouded in ugly canvas drapes plus it seemed to smell suspiciously, life
febreze. We said, “No, gracias”, got
back to the taxi and moved on in search of another casa.
The driver was very
accommodating and religiously took us to the addresses we pointed to him. To
make the story short—we visited at least 5 other casas: some were nice, but occupied, one had a very peculiar and
unpleasant smell, another one was pleasant, in the city center, but there was
plenty of raucous construction taking place just next door. Eventually we
stopped at a casa that was occupied,
but its owner really wanted to help us. He and the taxi driver spent some time
talking, made a few phone calls—and eventually we rode to Casa Yolanda (Calle 5ta, No 15, Republica y Hicacos, Rpto Diaz Pardo,
Phone: +53 33 214026), located close to the ZOO. The landlady, Yolanda Wong
Louis (she was of Chinese ancestry and looked a little oriental) showed us a
room on the ground floor (we wanted on the upper floor, but well, you cannot
squeeze blood from a stone) which we accepted for two nights. Incidentally, our
taxi driver lived just a few houses away!
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| Inside the Cathedral |
It was a nice room, with a
full bathroom & hot water, an air conditioner, and there was a fridge in
the porch (where we often rested). There was also an enclosed, fenced yard (in
case you wanted to park a car). Overall, it was a good casa, despite not fitting the bill of being above ground level with
a nice skyward terrace. After unpacking our stuff, we immediately set out to
explore the city of Ciego de Avila.
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| The Cathedral |
We leisurely walked to Parque Jose Marti. There was a
relatively modern church (Catedral de San
Eugenio de la Palma) which we visited and were immediately accosted by a
woman (she said she was originally from Haiti) who gave us some religious
materials and of course, expected to get in return something from us, not
necessarily of spiritual nature (i.e.,
dollars or CUCs were the best).
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| Parque Jose Marti and the very ugly building behind Marti's statue |
Several nice buildings were on
each side of the square—one housed a museum (Museo de Artes Decorativas), but it was closed and we only peeked
inside through the door—and another one very ugly, a Soviet-style building on
the west side of the park (a 12 floor Doce
Plantas edifice). I do not know who built it and when, but it was very
incompatible with the city’s architecture!
Then we strolled along Calle Independencia, the commercial
artery of the city and a pedestrian boulevard. There were plenty of Cubans
(actually, we hardly saw any tourists whatsoever—what a difference in
comparison with Trinidad, Cuba, where I encountered MORE tourists than locals!)
and they did not bother us.
The boulevard was flanked by various stores, cafes, ice parlors, restaurants and banks; in fact, I even saw... the Royal Bank of Canada! Well, the least the inscription on the building said so—but I doubt it had anything to do anymore with the ‘real’ Royal Bank… but who know, with the new changes in Cuba, it might reopen under the same name in the near future! Catherine had ice cream and kept getting more and more. For the equivalent of 50 cents a cone, she could not resist. A couple of times I bought cold beer for 1 CUC (although we also used CUPs for some purchases). One store offered plenty of gifts, some of them quite original and I purchased a set of tableware with very imaginative paintings.
The boulevard was flanked by various stores, cafes, ice parlors, restaurants and banks; in fact, I even saw... the Royal Bank of Canada! Well, the least the inscription on the building said so—but I doubt it had anything to do anymore with the ‘real’ Royal Bank… but who know, with the new changes in Cuba, it might reopen under the same name in the near future! Catherine had ice cream and kept getting more and more. For the equivalent of 50 cents a cone, she could not resist. A couple of times I bought cold beer for 1 CUC (although we also used CUPs for some purchases). One store offered plenty of gifts, some of them quite original and I purchased a set of tableware with very imaginative paintings.
I went to a bookstore, where
99% of all books were in Spanish, but I still picked up two books by Polish
writers and translated into Spanish. One of them was written by a well-known
Polish writer, Tadeusz Borowski. Having spent 3 years in the Auschwitz Concentration
Camp, he wrote a number of notable stories about this hideous place, based on
his personal experiences. One of them was called “This Way for the Gas, Ladies
and Gentlemen” and it was a required reading at my (final) grade 12 in the
secondary school in Poland. It certainly left a long-lasting impression on all
students—the genuine horrors portrayed in that book surpassed anything Stephen
King had ever conceived in his writings.
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| Public transport |
Let me digress here—there was
another reason this particular title had become etched in my memory. It was
1981, I just graduated from Stefan Zeromski High School No. 40 in Warsaw and
was soon going for vacation with several of my school buddies. But we faced one
problem—we needed a propane refill for our portable stoves. At that time the
“Solidarity” movement was at its peak, the Polish economy was one big mess, and
buying anything—and I mean ANYTHING—was always a huge achievement: there were
line-ups in front of almost empty stores, which often closed their doors
because they had literally NOTHING to sell, money was becoming quite worthless
and barter was getting increasingly prevalent.
There were propane filling
places at some gas stations, but obviously, most of them had not had propane
for many weeks or months (and they were quite often out of petrol, too!). Yet
one day I found out that there would be a propane delivery the following day at
a nearby gas station. I knew that the supply would be limited and that in order
to make sure there would be enough for us, we had to get there in the morning,
to reserve our place in the queue. At six o’clock in the morning my still very
sleepy friend showed up and we headed to the gas station; indeed, we were the
first ones! Later we were joined by a couple of our friends and many other
people—quickly the line began forming and getting longer. It was an almost a
picnic-like atmosphere! At one point a woman approached our group and very
loudly asked us,
“Excuse
me, are you waiting for the gas?”
Considering that all of us had
read through and studied Borowski’s story just months earlier, we were so
stunned by her ghastly-sounding question that it took us a few seconds to
respond.
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| The Polish Fiat 126p-or rather its shell |
Anyway, turning back to the
book and its author: it contained a number of Borowski’s stories in Spanish,
including “This Way to the Gas, Ladies and Gentlemen!” The author, disenchanted
with the new communist system and even persecuted by the communist Secret
Police, committed suicide in 1951 by breathing in gas from a gas stove, just
several days after the birth of his daughter. He was just 28 years old. In
November, 1981 (All Souls' Day, when across Poland hundreds of thousands of
people visit cemeteries), I was at the Powązki Military Cemetery in
Warsaw and lit a candle on his grave…
We went to the bank to change
money (there was a long lineup in front of the bank, but apparently it did not
apply to tourists—upon spotting us, the security guard waved us in). As I
mentioned previously, the exchange rate was quite good, but it took a while to
exchange $200 into CUCs and the bank teller made a ‘mistake’ (which I noticed
in time), initially shortchanging me by 20 CUCs.
Catherine also went to a
supermarket (there are more and more such stores), where prices are very high
and Cubans who do not have access to the hard currency probably can only dream
of actually buying anything there. Once she wanted to have ice cream in the “Heladeria Copelia”, but the queue was so
long that she immediately gave up.
We certainly enjoyed wandering
along this boulevard, sitting on benches, observing the city life and from time
to time interacting with Cubans.
A few blocks from the Parque was the Teatro Principal. It was built in 1927 and supposedly had the best
acoustics on the island. It was closed and we could only admire its interesting
architecture. As I was taking photographs of the Teatro at the corner of Calle
Joaquin Aguero and Honorato del
Castillo, we ran into Mr. Prado from the Hotel Colonial! We spoke to him
for a few minutes and then continued exploring the city.
Fidel Castro died on November
25, 2016, less than two months before we arrived in Cuba. By the way, he passed
away exactly to the day 60 years after the yacht “Granma” was surreptitiously
boarded in the Mexican port of Tuxpan, Veracruz (on November 25, 1956) by 82
members of the 26th of July movement including Fidel Castro, his brother, Raúl
Castro, Che Guevara, and Camilo Cienfuegos. One week later the “Granma” landed
in Cuba—and the rest is history. What a coincidence!
Three months before his
passing, Castro celebrated his 90th birthday (August 13, 2016) and
there were still posters, wishing him a happy 90th birthday (Felicidades Comandante por su cumpleanos).
Once I was walking near a building with a sign “CDR”, a local Committee of the Defense of the Revolution (Comité de Defensa de la Revolución). Such neighborhood committees are quite ubiquitous in Cuba and are described as the "eyes and ears of the Revolution." According to an article I had read not long ago, after the Revolution committees were very popular and their meetings were attended by throngs of people; nowadays they had lost much of its past glory and supposedly only the old people participated in the gatherings, which were very meagerly attended. There was also a poster with Fidel Castro saying something like “Happy 90th birthday—and more (y mas)!” As I stopped by the building and the poster, I noticed an old, avuncular gentleman sitting in front of the door. He told me that he was the head of the CDR (considering his age, he could have participated in the Revolution). I stroke up a conversation, using my basic Spanish, I pointed towards the poster with Castro.
Once I was walking near a building with a sign “CDR”, a local Committee of the Defense of the Revolution (Comité de Defensa de la Revolución). Such neighborhood committees are quite ubiquitous in Cuba and are described as the "eyes and ears of the Revolution." According to an article I had read not long ago, after the Revolution committees were very popular and their meetings were attended by throngs of people; nowadays they had lost much of its past glory and supposedly only the old people participated in the gatherings, which were very meagerly attended. There was also a poster with Fidel Castro saying something like “Happy 90th birthday—and more (y mas)!” As I stopped by the building and the poster, I noticed an old, avuncular gentleman sitting in front of the door. He told me that he was the head of the CDR (considering his age, he could have participated in the Revolution). I stroke up a conversation, using my basic Spanish, I pointed towards the poster with Castro.
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| Private 'bus' from Ciego de Avila to Moron |
“No mas”—no more—I said (that there would
not be any more birthdays for Fidel Castro).
“No mas”, he sadly repeated, “pero Fidel Castro vivirá siempre en nuestros
corazones!”: but Fidel Castro will live forever in our hearts!
Another older gentleman was
sitting in some kind of office, plastered with propaganda posters on the wall
and the de rigueur portraits of Fidel
and Raul Castro. I also noticed an autographed photograph—from what I
understood, it was “Commander of the Revolution”, Juan Almeida Bosque, who had
visited this place many years ago.
Once we walked by a building
with large windows; there were plenty of people inside, sitting and standing.
At first I thought it was another store and people were just waiting for
whatever merchandise it was selling, but after a few seconds I realized that it
was a funeral home, called “La Funeraria
El Clavel”. There was a big room and smaller rooms, where I could see a
coffin. I did not want to encroach on the mourners, so I did not take too many
photos.
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| This man was incessantly screaming, trying to get passengers going to Moron |
I wanted to visit the train
station and once we saw the railway tracks, we simply followed them. Indeed,
there was a small train station and a bus terminal, with a new twist: some
private ‘buses’ (just trucks with benches), offering to take passengers to
Moron. I believe the price was very low; I asked how much, but the guy would
not tell me—I doubt many tourists took advantage of this mode of
transportation! One peculiarly looking man was standing near the truck and kept
unceasingly screaming something about the bus to Moron, trying to get as many
passengers as possible. Well, 'Marketing 101', Cuban style! The area around the
station was quite vibrant and while sitting on a bench, we enjoyed observing
the passing people and cars. A young Cuban sat next to us and we chatted with
him a little—he had a fishing rod and was going fishing with a friend.
We were approached by several
Cuban boys.
“How
are you? Where are you from?” they asked us in English.
We talked to them a little and
I took several photos of them. I told them to hit the books and learn English
and gave them small pins with the Canadian flag.
 |
| This guy was going fishing |
Usually we were walking back
to the casa quite late and stopped in a fast-food restaurant (called “Ditu”), which was selling French fries,
chicken and beer—as well as there was a small kiosk with my favorite beer, “Bucanero”. Nevertheless there are better
beers in Cuba, but it was usually difficult to find them (yet I did buy some
other brands in Ciego de Avila).
On Saturday we went to the
ZOO, which was just a few minutes from the casa. We paid in CUPs, so the
admission cost us next to nothing. The ZOO was small and rather depressing…
There was a giraffe, zebras, two or three chimpanzees, an ostrich or two,
various monkeys, flamingos, hyenas and other animals. Each time people were
approaching the cage with the chimpanzee, the chimp extended his arm through
the bars, begging for food or sweets—he reminded me of the homeless and beggars
in Toronto…
Kids were giving bananas and other food to the monkeys and they were eagerly devouring them. We also saw a lion—the zookeeper was rubbing it through the bars and I could tell the lion liked it very much—there must have been a very strong bond between the two. The zookeeper also brought a small crocodile and let visitors touch its skin. For a while I was observing a hippo in his small enclosure. We also saw aquariums with fish.
Kids were giving bananas and other food to the monkeys and they were eagerly devouring them. We also saw a lion—the zookeeper was rubbing it through the bars and I could tell the lion liked it very much—there must have been a very strong bond between the two. The zookeeper also brought a small crocodile and let visitors touch its skin. For a while I was observing a hippo in his small enclosure. We also saw aquariums with fish.
There were plenty of Cuban
families and the kids appeared to have fun. Some of the families were obviously
Miami Cubans, one just had to look at the clothes they were wearing. One of the
attractions for kids was a transparent ball filled with air—with a kid
inside—floating in a small pool. Some kids had plenty of fun trying to maneuver
the ball on the water, others were a little bewildered. There was also a simple
merry-go-round and vendors, selling toys. We spoke to a guy selling dolls and
Catherine purchased a few of them.
We slept quite well in our casa. Each morning the landlady prepared
breakfast for us which we had in the kitchen. The last day we asked her to call
our driver and he showed up on time and we set forth to the hotel.
On our way to the hotel, on
the causeway, we had to stop for a while due to an accident—apparently a truck
ended up in the water and they were pulling it. Later we were told the truck
had collided with a school bus, but there were no fatalities. A month or so
before our arrival in Cayo Coco there had been another fatal accident on the
causeway when a Canadian tourist along with his wife had been transported by
ambulance to hospital at night. The ambulance had hit something (there had been
construction going on along the causeway) and the Canadians were killed.
Certainly, Ciego de Avila is
not comparable with Havana, Santiago de Cuba, Camagüey or Cienfuegos, but I
personally enjoyed the visit very much and I wished I could have stayed another
day.
Overall, we had a wonderful
time at the Colonial and Ciego de Avila and if we ever decided to go to Cayo
Coco again, we would certainly pick the Colonial again!
I would like to conclude this
report with the following joke that I came up with—or more precisely, adapted
from Polish political humor:
An American tourist arrives in
Cuba for the first time and walks into a barber’s shop in Havana. Two big
photographs of Fidel Castro and his brother Raul Castro are hanging on the
wall. He lounges comfortably in an armchair in the waiting area and looks
around the barbershop.
“Excuse
me, sir, but in Cuba it is customary to remove your hat in front of images of
our leaders”, the barber politely informs the American.
“I’m
terribly sorry”, he replies, “but I thought it was part of your advertising,
showing a client BEFORE and AFTER having his beard shaved!”
Blog po polsku/in the
Polish language: http://ontario-nature-polish.blogspot.ca/2017/08/dwunasty-wyjazd-na-kube-i-drugi-do.html
