04.02.2015 - 08.02.2015
I spent another 4 days mostly walking my tail off after moving to Maribel's casa in Vedado, a newer section of Habana. This was much closer to Nanette's hotel and also near the Hotel Nacional. The latter is probably the classiest place in town, modeled after the Breakers in Palm Beach, and built in 1930's. It was also a favorite hangout of Lucky Luciano, Myer Lansky, and other mafioso who more or less controlled Havana during Batista's time. We had a drink and a sandwich in the outdoor bar, facing the Malecon and La Mer.
Malecon from the top of tourbus. Hotel Nacional is further down
Maribel's was fine, if a bit noisy, but no one could be friendlier than Alejandro. Her apartment was on the fourth floor of an old building on a main thoroughfare in Vedado, which generally is less interesting than Habana Vieja. After the first night the key broke, and for the remainder of my stay I would have to shout up to Maribel, and she was would lower the only remaining key in a basket. Apparently getting another key made was not that easy to do. Our friend Terry arrived from Nicaragua and she was also staying just a few blocks away. She kept me company while Nanette continued on with her art group.
Outside of main Havana cemetery
I made several attempts to see rumba, some of the original music of Cuba, at the Palacio de Rumba in Centro Habana. This is a very local place that Alejandro recommended. The first night, Nanette and Terry came with me, as well as our other friend, Natalie, also touring with the art group, though she is not an artist. Alas however, there was a terrific downpour and we were told the musicians did not show up for that reason. We did however manage a decent paella in a nearby palador, that I'm sure sees few tourists because of its location. The waiter, an x ray tech in his day job, was quite well educated, and confirmed that the only way to make real money in Cuba was in the tourist industry.
The following day, we wandered toward the far side of the Malecon, and due to a cold front, the waves were pounding and sloshing over the sea wall. There was little traffic, many decrepit buildings, some interesting, some not, and then a couple of very fancy hotels. Eventually we got to the river and came to an old house,1830, now a boutique hotel. We were told it once belonged to a Spanish bank president. In the lobby, was a picture of a very young looking Che and Fidel, strolling together in their army fatigues. Just outside, and the reason we stopped, was a fantastical looking series of man made grottos and bridges overlooking the sea and constructed of coral and shells. Attached to this was a Moorish looking domed tower. We learned that most of this had been constructed by some wealthy Japanese, who apparently bought the place after the bank president. Eventually, we took a taxi collectivo back to our casas, and finally got to ride in one of the ancient US cars. I think it was a Buick. These collectivos ply certain routes, and will pick up anyone along the avenida who pays a few cuban pesos to sit with the other passengers going their way.
Terry and Nanette both decided they needed a break, and I, in a determined attempt to hear rumba, made another visit to the Palacio. I got there at 4:15, after being told that the music started at that time. About 5:30, the music finally did begin. Cuban time I guess, but to my chagrin, it was anything but rumba. Actually it was more like karaoke, though it was professional singers, but still singing to canned music. They weren't bad, but certainly not what I was hoping for. I felt a little like I was in a senior citizen center, as most of the people were older, or at least looked older than me. Some of them sure could dance though. After a half hour or so, I gave up, and walked back to my casa. Unfortunately, as in Spain, most of the music venues here do not really get started until after 11 PM, my usual bedtime. I should have known that 4 or 5 PM was an unlikely time for rumba.