Hello friends, after a full 8 days of interweb blackout, I have returned. No doubt many of you are eager to hear of my travels (or perhaps "travails"), so allow me to use this blogospheric magic to relay an outline to you.

Day One

As I may have mentioned, our flight left Vancouver the morning of Monday the 21st at 7AM, so an early start around 4AM was required. The flight was direct, which sidestepped a lot of ugly transferring or dealing with United States Americas (as far as whom are concerned, we're all criminals). So we arrived at Varadero airport around 4PM local time. As our travel agent had indicated, a friendly man at an Air Transat kiosk was waiting outside to give us info about our transfers. After a 2-hour bus ride, we're at the Hotel Nacional.

It's about then that we realize the pamphlet that was given to us by the Air Transat guy is for the wrong hotel. So we don't know when out orientation is, or what time our trasfer bus to Varadero is (our package was split time between the hotel in Havana and a resort). We tried asking the hotel staff (reception, concierge, tourist bureau) about the items included in our package, but didn't get very far. Our housekeeper seemed to speak much better English than the people behind desks (one of them actually obnoxiously squaked "QUE?" at us when we tried to ask a simple question). So if someone tells you that most people in Cuba speak English, they're not talking about the staff at the Nacional.

One of the items in our package was free shuttles to "Old Havana", the very colonial and touristy part. Since we could find no info about this shuttle, and not wanting to pay for a taxi, we chose to simply walk the 15-20 blocks.

As you may have already guessed, this turned out to be a bad idea.

We perhaps should have taken a more Southern route, as that area is more affluent/touristy. Instead, our route took us through a poor residential area. Within about ten minutes, we were sidled by "some guy" (I've forgotten his name). Who proceeded to engage us in friendly conversation about where we were from and Cuba in general. I decided to repress my first instinct of "Okay, what's the angle?" and accept the oft-repeated stereotype that Cubans are a friendly bunch. From there, we got our ear talked off and given a tour of poor Havana. Then we went to a bar, and after served some Mojitos we didn't order, the guy proceeded to harangue about why we needed to give him $20 so he could buy "milk for his kids".

I will now explain why this situation was unnecessarily expensive. First, you need to understand that Cuba has two currencies: the national Peso and the Convertible Peso. The CUC (its unrecognized currency code) is roughly equivalent to Canadian or U.S. dollars, which allows it to be used more easily by tourists. One CUC is roughly 17 national Pesos. The average Cuba makes equivalent to $4 a month.

Now, in addition to giving the guy $20 just so he would shut up and leave us alone, the bill we received from the bar simply said "20". Which I now realize (given the location of the bar) was not in CUCs, but rather Pesos, meaning that by plopping down $25 CUC (I had no change and was still in Canadian tipping mode), I overpaid by roughly 2000%. The waitress said nothing, by the way. I probably made her fucking year.

Thoroughly pissed off, we decided to give up on old Havana and simply make our way back to the hotel while we weren't exceptionally lost. Not five minutes after we parted company with our last grifter, a new one tried to pick us up. Needless to say, we were much more assertive. Just to make sure we didn't get too lost, we decided to ask some local police officers:

"Excuse me senor."

"Hi."

"Do you know which way the Hotel Nacional is?"

"No."

"Oh. Okay. Thanks."

As the name implies, the Hotel Nacional is a national landmark, so that a Havana resident could not know its general direction was not only a lie, but an insult.

We got back soon after and the rest of the day was spent sulking and being angry at the hotel.

On the plus side, I saw an Organiponico.

Day Two

Okay, day one did hold one semi-positive note. When we returned a note had been slipped under our door by the local Air Transat rep telling us she didn't see us at the orientation and that she would be by the next day to answer questions. We then learned that there was an Air Transat binder in the lobby containing all sorts of useful information. When the rep arrived just after midday, we learned that there was in fact, no free shuttle to Old Havana (as our package had indicated). So we booked a bus tour ($20 each).

The tour was fun. We got to see a lot of Old Havana landmarks and colonial Spanish architecture. Unfortunately, we were again hounded by people wanting us to buy things, or simply give them money. We watched as some of our tour compatriots opened up a backpack and gave away a ton of new baseball caps emblazoned with "Canada" logos. "That's it? What else you got" some recipients seemed to reply. Free stuff wasn't good enough. That was really disheartening.

The tour included a visit to a rum factory. Cuba has so much sugar they don't know what to do with it (by the way, the state-brand soda pop in Cuba is amazing, such is the difference when you actually make your pop with cane sugar instead of corn syrup like we do in the rest of North America). One of the things they make out of sugar is rum. Lots of rum. So much rum I got two 700 ml bottles of 7-year-old aged run and a bottle of maraschino liqueur for only $20 total.

We had a lobster dinner in a restaurant on the top floor of the Havana Libre hotel. The view has amazing, the service was terrible. We felt snubbed.

Day Three

At this point we're pretty much sick of Havana. It's a huge, run-down city with a small core of cultural gold. But we're sick of being asked for money or made to feel like we're unwelcome intruders. We mostly stick to the beautiful seaside grounds of the hotel, somewhat more insulated from the culture shock. There are lizards in the bushes. Peacocks on the lawn. There are strange blackbirds in the tree whose calls sound like a rusty gate opening. The breeze is warm.

Another bus trip to Varadero takes us to our resort: Barcelo Marina Palace (Google Maps link). A little background: Varadero is a small town in northern Cuba which is attached to a very long, thin peninsula covered in soft, white-sand beaches and resorts. Our particular resort seems to be a relatively new construction. This is where the money of our package is at: all-inclusive. At the Hotel Nacional we got a free breakfast, but were responsible for the rest of our meals. When you check into the resort, on the other hand, they put a bracelet on our wrist and set you loose.

There are several buffet restaurants, some al la carte restaurants, and more bars than you can shake a stick at.

A friendly bellhop takes us to our room. His English is perfect. So perfectly unaccented that I suspect him to be a retired spy. I never saw him again during our stay...

While we're admiring our nice room, a member of the housekeeping staff comes to the door and gives us another 700ml bottle of rum as a "welcome gift".

Day Four

Hedonism.

Day Five

Despite getting to bed at a decent hour, we sleep in late. Mostly because the all-inclusive factor means that bars are open 24 hours and free, which in turn means loud hooligans drunkenly stumbling past our room at 3AM.

After lunch we go on a day trip that takes us to various places of interest in Matanzas province. We get a tour of Bellamar caves, which were my first serious cave experience and basically amazing. There are no photos, because you had to pay a $5 fee to take them, and at this point I was sick of paying for things. You can find someone else's pictures here (you might want to mute your audio).

We get a tour of Matanzas city, which was okay. A real treat was a visit to a 19th century pharmacy museum, which has been kept in pristine condition. Again, no pics, same reason. Here's someone else's picture.

Day Six

We get up early to go on another day trip: snorkelling above a coral reef. I've never snorkelled before, so I'm enthusiastic about this one. Unfortunately, it's windy and the water is really choppy. They give us equipment (that doesn't fit me very well), spend a couple of minutes on a noisy beach quickly explaining how to use the gear. Then, without bothering to check us, jump into the water and say "follow me". And off they go. My mask doesn't fit right, I can't ask how to adjust it because the instructors are already swimming. I look down and it works better, but I can't see where anyone is or where they're going. The sea is tossing me around. So after about a minute and a half I basically freak out and abort, heading back for shore. Me and about five other people, which was maybe a quarter of the group. Get stung by a jellyfish on the way back to shore. Sulk.

The tour also takes us to an open-air cave with a natural pool in the bottom. That was kind of neat. My sting still hurt though so my enjoyment was limited.

We get back in the afternoon. The sting clears up. More hedonism. Spend some more time on the beach and swimming in the clear blue green ocean. We discover that of the four pools at our hotel, two have bars. So you can actually go up to a bar while you're in the pool. We order a drink from "das poolbar" (as I called it) just so we could say that we ordered booze while in a pool. After, we got dressed up to go to a la carte restaurant. Ate my second lobster of the trip: prepared completely differently, still delicious. I find a bartender who knows how to make a Manhattan. He actually does a good job too.

Day Seven

Its time to go home and I'm ready. The constant and ferocious ocean wind calmed this day and the humid, equatorial heat began to become quite noticeable. I also have a heat rash. I'm missing Canada.

I've also become thoroughly annoyed at my fellow resort tourists. Perhaps unlike most of them, I've seen the conditions most Cubans live in. The resort provides an environment more decadent than the average Cuban could possibly imagine, so I did my best to be polite and appreciative. Also tried to finish food on my plate when at the buffet unless I was seriously repulsed by something new I tried. "Take what you eat, but eat what you take", the saying goes. Take a little, it's a buffet: you can always get more. But people were always wasting things, leaving our Cuban hosts to bus tables with near-full plates and wine glasses.

Add this to the fact that the person bussing your table might have a medical degree. Oh yes. You see, everyone in Cuba gets a free post-secondary education. So maybe you become a doctor, or a lawyer, or a computer scientist. Great, so there's not too much work in your field because lots of people want to be doctors or lawyers or computer scientists. The pay is okay, but Cuba is socialist-communist and generally everyone gets paid similar wages. So you become a bartender at a resort. Everyone likes you, you're super popular, and a night of good tips multiplies your pay exponentially. Seeing the big picture here? Yeah. So fellow tourists, show our Cuban hosts a little more respect on your next visit, hmm?

After lunch a bus picked us up to take us back to Varadero airport. We spent about an hour and a half in line waiting to get our baggage checked. When we finally got into the terminal, our flight was delayed for almost an hour. The ignition on one of the engines of our plane wasn't working. Coincidentally, it was the engine that powered the air-conditioning systems. Good news: the airports have a device that jumpstarts the engine. Bad news: we have to pick up more passengers at Santa Clara airport, and their jumpstart device isn't working. Solution: keep the engine on during stopover. Problem: the plane also needs refueling and transport regulations say its dangerous to refuel under power. Solution: disembark all passengers and make them wait in the already crowded terminal of a tiny airport for an additional hour. Conclusion: after all preceding events, eat first meal in more than 9 hours (on the plane) fly home late night for more than six hours with several screaming babies (why would you bring kids that young on such a long trip?)

Thankfully, Canada customs didn't have a problem with all my rum, and Angela's dad was there to pick us up.

There's more details to tell, but that's the overview. I should have some pictures up this evening. My recommendation is that if you go to Cuba, just stick to a resort and take a day trip to Havana. Also, don't get an Air Transat package, they need to get their act together. Angela I plan on writing a complaint letter about a few things.

Mom, I have presents for you.