Capital: Havana … 11,260,000 People … 109,884 km² 
The Country
Cuba is a captivating island nation in the Caribbean known for its stunning natural landscapes and rich cultural heritage. From the history of revolution to the advancement of socialism, Cuba offers a diverse and authentic experience for those willing to venture off the beaten path.
Fun Facts
Cuba is home to the smallest bird in the world: The Bee Hummingbird
The first and last time Cuba experienced snow was in 1857
The Cuban National Ballet School is the largest ballet school in the world
My Experience
Two weeks into the COVID-19 pandemic, with nothing but time on my hands, I had the brilliant idea of planning an international vacation. Surely this nightmare would be over in a few months, right?
August 2020, my original departure date to Cuba, came went along with my non-refundable airfare (in hindsight, not my best decision). Regardless, on December 31, 2022, the trip to Cuba was replanned. My partner Kelsey, along with our friends Brendon and Kallie booked our tickets, planned our itinerary, and began the short wait for our March 2023 adventure.
Day 1
After a restful night in a capsule hotel in Mexico City, our flight arrived at José Martí International Airport just outside of Havana. Stepping onto the jet bridge, the 35° heat hit us immediately - and I loved it. Ads for rum and cigars filled the concourse as we made our way through security checkpoints. We snaked our way through customs, and I quickly realized my high school Spanish classes were not going to be an asset to us. Luckily, Brendon and Kelsey had higher linguistic abilities, and we got our tourist visas approved relatively unscathed.
Hopping into a surprisingly modern taxi we began the hour-long drive into Havana. Passing countless murals of Che Guevara, palm trees and a plethora of vintage cars on the road, the fields surrounding the capital turned into vibrant buildings and streets filled with people. We drove via the Malecón, one of the city’s most iconic roadways on our way to Old Havana. The seawall, built in 1901, was created during U.S. military rule in an effort to protect Havana from crashing waves. Today, the 8km thoroughfare is the site of sculptures, murals, and partially destroyed buildings.
We arrived at our casa particular just before sunset. Similar to bed and breakfasts, casa particulars are private family-run accommodations which are extremely popular across Cuba. After climbing a steep flight of stone steps we dropped our bags off in our home for the next few nights. The roof of our casa featured a rooftop bar equipped with much-needed fans and the first (of many) mojitos. After lounging in the heat we made our way through the streets of Old Havana to watch the sunset from a boardwalk along the Alameda de Paula. Walking back in the dark we discovered a quaint restaurant serving meals and drinks on old records, so we sat and enjoyed a variety of chicken, octopus and beef before heading back to our rooftop patio. It was a perfect way to start the trip, and the excitement only grew from there.
Although streetlights were uncommon, and you had to walk through long stretches of shadowy alleys to get from point A to point B, we never felt unsafe in Cuba. Streets are filled with music and laughter during all hours of the night. We sat under the stars on our patio listening to the sounds of the street below, mojito in hand, and planned our next day of exploration.
Day 2
Everyone who knows me knows I love the heat. The hotter the better. I will say, however, that without modern AC units in Cuba, I wouldn’t have slept a second.
We returned to our patio where we enjoyed our first breakfast of the trip. Eggs, guava and coffee - the first of many identical, simple, delicious breakfasts to be had. We soon ventured out into the city, first arriving at Plaza Vieja - a 450-year-old square filled with restaurants and museums. Workers fought to grab the attention of tourists within the square, some resorting to the bold approach of pulling us into their establishments. Although everyone was friendly, it was impossible to go 5 minutes without someone trying to sell you cigars, rum or convert your currency to pesos. Out of all the sales approaches we experienced, one individual had a winning strategy - a promise to remember us if we came back into the square later that evening. We held him to that promise before continuing along the Malecón.
Walking along the Canal de Entrada, the smell of the sea was unmatched by the smell of diesel. The vehicles, although few and far between, left a lasting impact with sound and smell (thankfully, I for one love the smell). At the tip of Malecón lies a park with an unrestricted view of Castillo De Los Tres Reyes Del Morro just across the harbour. The Spanish fortress was built in 1589 to protect the city from raids.
My favourite walk in Havana came to be the Martí Promenade, a beautiful shaded path spanning over multiple kilometres leading from the ocean to Parque Central and El Capitolio, the National Capitol Building. Along the Promenade artists were selling hand-painted canvases, buskers were performing, and kittens were even being sold to residents of Havana. The walkway was cool, calm, and filled with talent. Before arriving at the capitol, we took a small detour to El Flordita to cool off.
Famous for being one of Ernest Hemingway’s favourite spots to get a daiquiri, we braved the crowds to get a drink. By coincidence we arrived a few minutes before they opened, and before hundreds of patrons rushed the bar. Musicians and singers drowned out the sounds of blenders as we claimed a booth and enjoy one (or two) daiquiris and a Cuban sandwich (when in Rome, right?)
It was at this point the Cuban heat began to affect our group. As a self-proclaimed heat lover, I was having the time of my life - but after leaving the bar we all felt like having a moment in the shaded Parque Central before climbing the steps of the Capitol. Although brief, as we were politely told after that we weren’t actually supposed to climb the steps, we were able to enjoy a quick view of the monumental structure before wandering the streets back to our casa for a rest.
Beautiful murals are everywhere in Havana - I would often lose my friends because I would stop and take pictures of the ones that caught my eye - which was most of them. Intricate designs were impossible not to admire - and it was also impossible not to notice them. The murals also provided great way-finders to know where we were. Murals of Che Guevara and Cuban flags were also featured on hundreds of buildings across Havana. “Viva La Revolucion” spray painted on walls was a common sight; there was no lack of national pride.
Later that evening, to keep a promise, we went back to Plaza Vieja. Although it was dark, the same individual from before came running up to us. “I remember you! I waited all day for you!” The charm worked. His sales pitch was superb - offering us a table in a mixology bar overlooking the square. To be honest, we looked into the bar a few hours prior to make sure it was legit, and it came highly recommended. Inside was a modern, chic atmosphere offering unique twists on Cuban classics. They also boasted the ability to accept credit card payments; the first we had seen in Cuba. After 20 minutes of Brendon trying to unsuccessfully pay by card, however, we understood that cash truly was king in Cuba.
As we were relaxing outside, a thunderstorm began to roll in. Kids in the square who were throwing light-up balls and playing games rushed inside and shops began to shutter their windows. We were under an awning at the bar, so we enjoyed the sound of rainfall over the city and the sound of thunder in the distance.
Day 3
The first sickness of the trip began on Day 3, starting with Kelsey. Waking up exhausted and nauseous, she, unfortunately, wasn’t feeling up for our first activity - exploring the Almacenes San José Artisans' Market. Vendors filled this harbourfront warehouse offering thousands of handmade goods. Albeit a bit overwhelming, I was able to pick up Kelsey a gift or two so she didn’t feel too left out.
On our way out of the market, we met another traveller who highly suggested we check out Callejón de Hamel, a hotspot for Afro-Cuban culture, art and music. Since it was Sunday live performances were about to begin. We were sold. After checking in on Kelsey and making she was still resting, we set off in a black 1957 Chevrolet Bel Air towards the famous alley.
Red leather interior, speeding through intersections, and not a seatbelt in sight. The ride was an experience in and of itself. Our driver navigated the streets with ease, and we arrived at our destination in no time. Callejón de Hamel was filled with narrow passageways and opportunities to see unique art pieces. A canopy of plants hung from overhead, blocking out most of the rain that was beginning to fall. Vibrant murals surrounded us and featured paragraphs of Spanish text. As we entered, we were encouraged to ring a bell within a painted alcove. The bell had a sign describing something in Spanish, but since we couldn’t read it, we thought it best to ring the bell and translate later. From our understanding, the translation is:
“If you come looking for a battle, I am the battle. If you come looking for love, I am love. I don't walk with anyone. I have my own way. I have black, I have white, I have Chinese. I have nothing because I am nothing. And I have my friend who knows that I am nothing.” Ominous, to say the least.
As we made our way through the alley, performers began drumming and singing. Everyone was dancing in the rain, admiring the performances and the art that surrounded us. Within the alley, bathtubs were cut in half, painted, and were being used as canvases and even as improvised couches. Nothing was left bare - everything was painted; beautifully at that.
As the music faded we began our trek up through the University of Havana and on our way to the Plaza de la Revolucion. For me, this was without a doubt one of the landmarks I had to see. Cuban history, from the abolition of slavery to the Cuban Missile Crisis, has always been of interest to me. Seeing the iconic steel memorials of Che Guevara and Camilo Cienfuegos, along with the José Martí Memorial, was high on my bucket list.
The square is one of the largest on earth and is where Fidel Castro addressed hundreds of thousands of citizens over his reign. Walking through the square and standing underneath Che Guevara’s 10-storey monument, I began to question - why had I seen hundreds of murals and statues honouring Che, but none of Fidel? As I would later learn in Cuba, Fidel directly requested he was not idolized, and there were laws prohibiting the commemoration of living individuals. Che Guevara was executed in Bolivia in 1967 after attempting to lead a guerrilla insurgency movement. Cienfuegos and his plane disappeared during a night flight in 1959.
After wandering through the Plaza de la Revolucion, and not seeing another person or vehicle for quite some time, we noticed the rain had started to pick up. Seemingly out of nowhere, an electric taxi pulled up beside us. The driver, wearing a thin blue poncho and with a cigar hanging out of his mouth, quickly became our saviour. We hopped in the back, pulled up the tarps, and we were off. One unique feature of this particular cab was if you let go, you would fall into the street. And this electric cab had some horsepower. One hand on the upper railing, one hand on my camera, we made our way back to Old Havana. Kelsey was feeling much better, but we decided to take the night to rest. It started raining a bit more in the evening, and before we knew it, the slight drizzle turned into a downpour. We had to leave the rooftop patio due to the sheer amount of water coming down on the tarps, and the streets below us were ankle-deep in water. Braving the elements, we set out in search of food. The meal itself was uneventful, but my socks were done for. It is what it is.
Day 4
The rain continued throughout the night, but by the time we left the casa in the morning, the rain had subsided and we were left with an overcast day. The morning began with a stop at the Plaza de Armas, Havana’s oldest plaza. In the centre of the square, a statue of Carlos Manuel Céspedes stands. Céspedes, a plantation owner who freed his slaves in 1868, made the declaration of Cuban independence from Spain shortly thereafter. Although Cuba did not gain independence until 1902, he is often referred to as the Father of Cuba.
The Plaza features a government-owned cigar shop. Filled with Cohibas, Montecristos, Bolívars and a variety of other selections, hundreds of cigars lined the shelves. But we refrained from buying anything. We were heading to a tobacco plantation in a few hours. I’m by no means a cigar snob, but if farm-to-table food is so good, surely farm-to-table cigars are better, right? As we were observing the cigars, the power suddenly went out. A rare occurrence, I was told.
We explored areas of Havana we weren’t able to visit earlier in the week - including the Plaza de la Caterdral, one of the main squares in Havana. The church that resides in the square is rumoured to have held the remains of Christopher Columbus before being moved to Seville, Spain in 1898. Just outside the square was La Bodeguita, another famous bar filled with tourists and locals alike. To quote Hemingway: “My mojito in La Bodeguita, My daiquiri in El Floridita”. We had the daiquiri on Day 2, and now it was time for the mojito.
La Bodeguita had a fantastic mojito, but what was even more memorable was their facade covered in signatures. All across the outside of the bar, thousands of visitors left their mark. As live music from the bar filled the street, we signed our names on the bar, paid our homage to Hemingway, and departed Havana.
Four hours later we arrived in Viñales, a town located within a UNESCO-recognized National Park. Known for its tobacco plantations, steep mountains and colonial-era wooden houses, Viñales had a laid-back and natural vibe. We arrived at Benito’s Tobacco Farm, a family-run farm showcasing the art of drying and rolling tobacco leaves. We entered a thatched hut to find thousands of tobacco leaves drying above us. The cool, dark atmosphere was complimented by the smoky fragrance of cigars drying all around us. After a demonstration on how to roll cigars, we all had the opportunity to try the product. Smooth is an understatement. Although we were sharing, and the cigars got a bit slobbery, it gave us all a nicotine rush. We purchased a few cigars and then wandered into the centre of Viñales.
As opposed to Havana, Viñales was calm and quiet. We often found ourselves as the only people walking through the streets, apart from a few impromptu market stalls. After dropping our things off at our casa particular, and meeting the sweetest host who insisted we call her Mom, we found another rooftop bar overlooking a sports field. In the heart of Viñales Valley, we were surrounded by a range of mountains rich in vegetation and towering cliffs. The sun began to fade behind the mountains as we made our way to dinner. Who would have thought lobster would be abundant in Cuba? This was the first night I had mouthwatering lobster for less than $10 a plate. I was hooked.
Day 5
The next morning we awoke bright and early to a delicious breakfast served by Mom. It was only 8am, but the heat started strong in the upper 20’s. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem, but we were about to embark on a multi-hour hike through Viñales Valley. We grabbed our bags, an unbelievable amount of sunscreen, and set off. Our guide took us through expansive fields of sugarcane and coffee beans.
Toby, a friendly dog we met in Viñales, joined us on the walk and helped lead the way. We eventually arrived at the home of a coffee farmer who offered us a cup of coffee, ground by him, as well as locally produced sugar. Eat your heart out, Starbucks. We met his family including his 4-year-old granddaughter, who was very eager in giving us bags of coffee beans. Baby goats eventually wandered into the hut and quickly made friends with Toby, providing a restful and adorable pitstop.
Continuing on, after another hour of walking in the fields and passing dozens of cows, horses and other animals, we came across a small hut at the base of a mountain. An old man slowly emerged, cigar in hand, and gave our guide a hug. Turns out, it was his uncle, who was proudly working away at over 92 years old. We also found out that Toby, our loyal companion for the last few hours, was his uncles’ dog! The man gave Toby a pet and then welcomed us to his small farm. Quickly dubbed Casanova, for his graphic stories that I won’t go into detail here, we hung around his humble hut before beginning our climb up the mountain.
After a bit of a scramble, we entered the Cueva de la Vaca, a short cave system running through the mountain. Emerging on the other side we were able to look over Viñales Valley, sitting on the cliffside admiring the view. Suddenly, up in the tree canopy, two colourful birds swooped in. We were lucky enough to see Cuban trogons, the national bird of Cuba, in their natural habitat. Coloured red blue and white, similar to the flag of Cuba, these birds observed us for a while before flying off into the distance.
Toby was still by our side and followed us to our next stop at the end of the trail - a makeshift bar serving Coco Loco’s: a machete’d coconut filled with pineapple, orange, honey and a copious amount of rum. It was at this point our guide gave us some insight into the Cuban economic system, and that inflation was eroding financial security for millions of citizens. The Cuban Convertible Peso was no more, prices fluctuate constantly, and savings accounts were being wiped out. Even in our own experience, the value of the Euros and Canadian Dollars we brought with us fluctuated throughout our trip. This dusty bar in the middle of a hiking trail soon became a forum of economic discussion and we tried better to understand what was happening in Cuba, something we never read about before travelling.
Arriving back in Viñales, we said farewell to Toby and then headed to the Finca Agroecológica El Paraiso, a sustainable farming initiative providing breathtaking views of the valley. Fresh fruit and vegetables blended into smoothies paired with savoury seafood and meats. The family-style meal and stunning views made for the perfect conclusion of the day. Dogs and cats would roam the tables looking for scraps, and they would often get what they wanted. We explored the farm while watching the sunset over the valley, and as darkness filled the town, we experienced the perfect opportunity for stargazing.
Day 6
Perhaps it was the heat. Perhaps it was a bit of mysterious cheese we were offered. Whatever it was, Brendon woke up the next day not feeling right. As we left Viñales, the winding roads only added insult to injury.
After a few hours, we arrived at a stop for lunch where Brendon suddenly passed out as he was leaving the bus. We were travelling with others at this point, so we all rushed to make sure he was okay. While this was happening, Lucas, another traveller, passed out as well - luckily caught by our bus driver David before he hit the ground. Lucas felt better and got the colour back in his face relatively soon, but Brendon wasn’t getting any better. As we drove to the Bay of Pigs, we stopped at a hospital for Brendon to receive care. Kallie went in with him but encouraged us to keep going, and that we would see them at our hotel later that day - and to take pictures for them. As difficult as it was, we knew he was in good hands, and that he would be okay. With a heavy heart, we continued on towards the Bay of Pigs.
Who would have thought that the site of a failed U.S. Military invasion could be so gorgeous? We arrived at a shack on the side of a road with a forest on our left and the ocean on our right. Behind the shack was a trail leading to Cueva De Los Peces, a crystal-clear cenote filled with fish. As we walked along the trail, millions of crabs had also decided it was a good time to visit. It was March, the time of year when crabs emerge from the forest for their annual migration to the sea. Although friendly, we had to watch out for unwanted pinching.
Jumping into the cenote felt like jumping into a bath. Equipped with snorkels, we dived down to see a few large fish swimming around us. We explored the cenote for a bit before heading to the ocean. Although the cenote was unique, the Bay of Pigs was unmatched. Hotter water, thousands of fish swimming around us, and teal blue water as far as the eye could see. I was in paradise. Fishes of all shapes, colours and vibrancy swam alongside us as we dove down to look around. The water was incredibly clear, so exploring underwater provided unrestricted views of expansive coral reefs. A tranquil day was cut short by the fact that crabs had overtaken the road we drove in on. David, showing no remorse for these land crabs, drove full speed ahead - crushing dozens, perhaps hundreds of crabs on our way to Playa Larga. Brutal, but necessary.
Arriving at our hotel in Playa Larga, Brendon and Kallie were waiting in the lobby. After an IV drip and a bottle of antibiotics, Brendon was on his feet but considerably exhausted. It’s possible he just got too dehydrated from our hike in Viñales, but a parasite was also another possibility according to the doctor. After enduring a $100 medical bill, Brendon was placed on a diet of chicken and rice for the remainder of the trip. Although restricted, we vowed to still make the trip as fun as possible for him.
That night, after walking along the beach and smoking cigars, Kallie went for a swim. We lounged most of the afternoon before enjoying dinner on the sand. As the sun set, we received a beginner's guide to salsa dancing. I’m already uncoordinated- dancing on sand didn’t help. What did help, however, was a few mojitos and Cuba Libres. We danced into the early hours of the morning before adjourning to our air-conditioned rooms.
Day 7
After spending the previous day enjoying the natural beauty of the Bay of Pigs, we were eager to learn more about the history of the area - primarily the Bay of Pigs invasion in 1961. We visited the Museo Giron, a museum outlining details of the invasion and honouring the Cubans that lost their lives in the counter-attack.
The museum featured tanks, planes, and photos of Fidel throughout his life. The museum also included the white shoes of Nemesia Rodriguez, one of the most famous women in Cuba. On the day of the invasion, Rodriguez, who was 13 at the time, was on her way home with her family after purchasing a new pair of shoes. On the way back their vehicle was attacked, killing her mother and paralyzing her grandmother. Her new shoes were found with bullet holes and stained with blood, though she survived. The shoes, as well as Rodriguez, became a symbol of victory.
After leaving the museum we arrived in the city of Cienfuegos, a relaxed coastal town we only stayed for an hour or two. We explored Parque José Martí and enjoyed lunch in a hidden upstairs bistro. I purchased a few bottles of Havana Club rum before heading back to the bus to carry on with our journey.
We then arrived in one of my favourite towns: Trinidad. Nestled in the mountains, the cobblestone streets and colourful homes of Trinidad provided an iconic experience. After getting settled at our casa particular, we explored the streets and discovered a bodega used by locals. Every household in Cuba has a food rationing book, a system in place since American sanctions began in 1962. Families are able to claim certain amounts of food and cooking supplies per person, per month. While the rationing system aims to provide essential goods to the population, it is not always able to meet the full demand. This has led to the development of black markets where people can buy goods at higher prices that may not be available through government-run facilities. Although the term “black market” is often viewed unfavourably, we were told that black markets are extremely common across Cuba - and with inflation being as high as it is, it’s essential to use them to make ends meet.
After our experience at the bodega, we attended an official salsa lesson on a rooftop overlooking Trinidad. The night before was just a practice; this was the real deal. Unbeknownst to me, others we were travelling with had been practicing salsa for months. My only time attempting salsa was the night before. Needless to say, I was not great, and the instructor was not hesitant to point that out.
With my ego slightly bruised after the lesson, we continued exploring Trinidad. In the centre of the town lies Plaza Mayo, another UNESCO World Heritage Site. Wealthy homes built from the sugar trade in the 18th century now house museums and restaurants. At the heart of the city was Convento de San Francisco de Asís, a large church featuring a bell tower overlooking the town. When we entered the building, we were invited to climb the tower but were urged not to ring the bell. We were told this numerous times. I assumed it was to not annoy the people below, but the caretaker told us that the bell is only rung if the city is under attack. Bandits would often attack the town, so the bell was put in place to rally a defence. I’m glad we didn’t ring the bell.
Sunsets in Cuba were incredible every day, but that evening was something special. Overlooking Trinidad, with the ocean in the distance, the clouds parted just enough to allow brilliant golden rays to shine across the town. We stayed there until sundown, but the night was just beginning.
Cuba is home rich culture, fascinating history and incredible scenery. But what about the nightlife? Trinidad has one of the most unique nightclubs in the world: Disco Ayala, a huge subterranean nightclub offering a truly eccentric night out. Surrounded by darkness, we walked to the outskirts of town before stumbling across a small entrance with a neon sign. You can’t hear any music from the outside, so your faith must be placed in this one ominous sign. After climbing 100 feet down into the Earth, we walked through a natural stone archway and witnessed… no one. We were way too early. However, the cave was massive, featuring multiple bars, a variety of DJ booths and ample room to dance. As people began to fill the space and the lights began to flare, we had a fantastic night of techno-salsa fusion.
Day 8
With the sounds of experimental DJ tracks still in our ears, we packed our bags to venture towards Cayo Macho de Afuera, an island 30km off the coast of Cuba. Early in the morning, we arrived at a small dock on the South coast of Trinidad. The catamaran we were taking to the island had nets at the bow of the ship hanging over the water, which provided the perfect place to get some sun and watch the waves crash along the boat.
As we set off, the wind picked up a bit more than expected, and Kelsey’s hat flew off her head, rolled along the length of the boat, and into the water. A disappointing start to the day, but how upset can you be when you’re sailing toward an island in the Caribbean?
After about two hours, we were a few hundred feet away from the island. Before arriving, the boat stopped, and the captain invited us to jump in the water. A coral reef was directly below us, and he had snorkels ready for us. As I jumped in, I quickly noticed that my mask had a massive hole in the side, and I couldn’t see a thing. Unlike the Bay of Pigs, this was open ocean, so the water was quite choppy. I swam back to the boat to grab a replacement before hopping back in and diving down to escape the breaking waves. Being thrashed around was honestly quite fun, so I spent some time exploring the reef before heading back to the boat.
As we docked into Cayo Macho de Afuera, the white sand and palm trees looked irresistible. We exited the catamaran and walked along the boardwalk, leading into a long hut serving free drinks and food. The island was home to large Iguanas and hutias, adorable rodents similar to capybaras. They sat in the shade of the hut begging for food, similar to the dogs and cats we met on the mainland.
The island itself was quite small, less than half a kilometre in length, so it only took about 20 minutes to walk around it. In total, only about 40 people were on the island, so it was very easy to find your own space away under a palm tree and relax on the sand away from the sights and sounds of other people. Coconuts were filled with rum, and the heat of the day put everyone in a state of pure relaxation. It was without a doubt one of the most calming places I have ever been.
Although I’m not fond of dancing, I absolutely love to swim. The North side of the island was protected from the waves, so the water was calm and warm. You could walk far into the ocean while keeping your feet on the bottom, and you could float in place for as long as you wanted. Hours felt like minutes, and it was a struggle to pull myself out of the water to get back on the catamaran. I grabbed my book, sat on the nets, and enjoyed our sail back to the mainland.
I should mention that although I was in a state of bliss, I should have been much smarter when it came to sunscreen. Swimming for hours and then laying on a net directly under the sun for 2 hours without reapplying sunscreen was not a wise choice, and I paid for it for the rest of the trip. In my defence, I just forgot, and those who did remember still got burned. The Cuban sun is not to be trifled with.
Arriving back in Trinidad that evening we visited a salsa club to give dancing one more shot. Kelsey and I, sun-kissed beyond belief and exhausted from swimming all day, sunk into our chairs and simply observed. Before long the aloe vera was calling us, and we collapsed back into our casa.
Day 9
Burnt a bit more than previously thought, waking up the next day hurt. I can’t sugarcoat it. It just hurt. Determined not to let it get the best of us, we packed up to head toward the Los Ingenios Valley. Within this small town stood Torre Manaca-Iznaga, a 45-metre watch tower that was used by sugar plantation guards to stop slaves from escaping. After climbing to the top, we had a panoramic view of the entire area. The tower invoked a feeling of dread in all of us. None of us wanted to stay long. We headed down and left the area, on our way to Santa Clara.
After a few more hours on the road, we arrived in Santa Clara, home of Che Guevara’s Mausoleum. Che’s remains were found in Bolivia in 1997 and were then exhumed and sent to Cuba. As we entered the Mausoleum we were told not to take photos and not to talk. The room was dark, cool and humid, intentionally designed that way to resemble Che’s time living in the jungle. Che’s face was carved into a wall along with other individuals that were executed alongside him in Bolivia. At the back of the mausoleum, a cauldron with a small flame flickered. This was the eternal flame, lit by Fidel in 1997.
Within the mausoleum was also a museum of Che’s life. Everything from his personal notes and weapons to tea cups and silverware was on display. Exiting the museum, stairs led up to the monument of Che - a large statue displaying the phrase Hasta La Victoria Siempre - Ever Onward to Victory. We spent some time walking around the monument and looking out onto the massive plaza that stood in front of it. It felt very reminiscent of my time in North Korea, standing in front of the bronze statues of Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il. After some time and introspection, we began our journey back to Havana.
On the way back, Kallie begun to feel ill. As we arrived for dinner she could barely eat. Three out of the four of us had experienced some form of illness during this trip- some much more than others. Kelsey was better, although not 100%. Brendon was still recovering, and Kallie had just began experiencing waves of nausea. After eating lobster for a week straight, I was surprised how nothing had affected me. I don’t have the best stomach while travelling, so I felt like I had dodged a bullet. It was the last night, after all. What could go wrong?
As we finished dinner, we made our way to the Buena Vista Social Club, a performance group of Cuban musicians with a star-studded cast of Grammy award winners. Tickets also included three free drinks! The show itself was amazing, and due to general nausea amongst the group, I received a few more drinks than my allotted three. I felt so grateful that I still had my energy and my appetite - the ability to help take care of Kelsey, Brendon and Kallie, but still enough energy to try new food. I felt invincible.
Day 10
Perhaps it was the heat. Perhaps it was the five pounds of seafood I ate the night before. Whatever it was, I was the fourth and final domino to fall into sickness. What is the price of hubris, after all?
I felt fine after a while, but when you have four exhausted friends all at the end of the trip, sometimes it’s a good reminder of how great the comfort of your own bed really is. That morning we ventured out into Old Havana one last time to spend the last of our pesos. We picked up a few interesting souvenirs and made our way to the airport. Our trip to Cuba had officially ended.
As we were driving back to the airport in another modern taxi, it wasn’t lost on us how much we did and how much we saw. From the tobacco plantations of Viñales to the white sand beaches of Playa Larga, Cuba had so much to see and do. Due to the embargo on Cuba, we witnessed countless examples of ingenuity in the preservation and creation of materials. National pride was evident everywhere, and the people we met were some of the nicest I have ever interacted with. Although Cuba is known for its natural beauty and dynamic history, it was the Cuban people that made our trip an incredible experience.
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