Back in 2018, on my return from a self-designed and -directed tour of Spain and Portugal, my neighbors had a proposal for me. They had booked a 5-day cruise aboard the RCL Majestic out of Tampa which would include an overnight stop in Havana. As I’d had an ongoing interest in visiting Cuba, I quickly booked a cabin for this September sailing.
Thoroughly enjoying my visit when I was able to visit and photograph the four cathedrals in Havana and make a day trip to see the cathedral in Matanzas, I added a return to Cuba to my wish list. Post Covid, in August 2022, I found Cuban Adventures and booked a tour to start in late November. Unfortunately, no one else booked those dates, and the booking was declined. In March of 2024 I booked again for early November, and this time it was confirmed within 3 weeks.
Beginning my detailed research, I created a spreadsheet where I copied the narratives for each day from the webpage. From my “missed cathedrals” spreadsheet, the worksheet for Cuba provided me with the names of cathedrals in each of the 7 cities we’d overnight in, plus others which might be along the route. Per my data, I expected to visit and photograph 9 of the remaining ten cathedrals I’d not seen in Cuba.
Early in September, final payment was due and paid. I wanted a solo sleeping arrangement, and had to remind Lisandra to bill me for this. As a light sleeper who (reportedly) snores, I wanted my own room.
Cuban Adventures hosts a Facebook page where participants in their multiple tour options can share information and ask questions. I joined it and found it a useful resource. Among the suggestions were items which could be brought for distribution in “support for the Cuban people.” That 5-word phrase is critical – the US government limits travel to Cuba from the States to trips which meet specific criteria. While there are multiple airlines servicing the routes to and from the lower 48, the guidelines from the State Department require that “tourism” isn’t an accepted option.
The Facebook group advised that American currency in small denominations be included in the preparations, making sure the bills were in decent shape. (Tears and well-used paper are not accepted.) US-based bank credit/debit cards will not work or be accepted. Mobile phones would require either an electronic or physical SIM.
By the time I began my transatlantic cruise in early October, I’d accumulated about $600 in US currency. On my return to Florida for the two days between trips I got another $250, as well as spending $150 in Walmart purchasing incidentals such as toothpaste and toothbrushes, hairclips, soap, deodorant, shampoo, crayons and colored pencils, combs. Online, I completed the DViajeros eVisa form for Cuba and purchased a SIM to collect in the airport. Packing on Halloween, I was ready the following morning for Dave to collect me to bring to the Tampa airport.
Day 1 – Travel to Havana
A much smoother ride than the harrowing trip I made to Tampa for my flight to Gatwick a month earlier, I was checked in, cleared security and wandering the terminal with a couple of hours to spare. Having skipped breakfast (no food in the house), I had a big salad with rice and beans and chicken. The Southwest flight was about 60% full, so there were plenty of empty seats. Weather was perfect for both take-off and landing.
Arriving about 4pm, the Cuban immigration and customs processes were easy and quick, and I had my luggage timely. Looking for the Infotur kiosk to collect my SIM, it was unstaffed and empty. I spotted my name on a sheet of paper, and the Cuban Adventures-provided taxi driver loaded my two bags into the back of hist orange vintage car and we were soon heading to Viejo Habana. Without much conversation, we sped along the motorway and about half an hour later I was dropped at the entry to my lodgings for the night. Hauling my big bag up the stairs, my host Rosemarie carried the smaller carry-on. We chatted once I had settled in, and she exchanged $150 US into Cuban pesos. Her exchange rate was 280CP per dollar, in 500CP notes – I had a stack of 84 Cuban notes which was about half the size of my stack of US currency.
Before 6 I was directed to walk around the corner to the Gargoyle where the orientation meeting would be held. There I met the tour leader, guide Adrian who hailed from Baracoa and Havana, aged 36. Two Chinese-heritage women were members of the group: Mei, holding a Canadian passport and living in Seattle (and retired from Microsoft) and her aunt Dhong who splits her year between Bucharest, Romania and Beijing – and had no English. Two additional women and a sole man were due, bringing our “team” to 6.
On our way to dinner, I got a few shots of the building exterior, with its gargoyle, and the police station across the street, which looked like a castle fortress. Adrian walked us to Rum Rum where I had their mojito to start (too sweet!) and BBQ ribs which were tender and tasty, falling off the bone. Walking the trio back, I climbed the stairs at La Quimera while the pair returned to the other hostel. It was still early, and I chose not to get on the provided Wifi, reading from my eReader instead until I was ready to sleep.
Day 2 – Bay of Pigs and Cienfuegos
Having set my alarm for 7:25, this proved to be my regular starting time for most of the trip. After cleaning up and dressing, I went to the common room for breakfast. Carla, a Portuguese resident of Porto had arrived in the night and would be in our group. Scrambled eggs, fruit, juice, coffee and toast proved to be a feast as we got to know one another. We were due to be collected just before 9, but our driver Pepe was delayed due to difficulties getting petrol. By 9:40 we were off, leaving Havana and heading southeast about 200km towards Playa Larga. About 11 we had a rest stop where I got a bottle of water. Soon thereafter we stopped at a small roadside home where the owner hosted hummingbirds, including a Cuban variety which is the smallest in the world.
Our next stop had been billed as an opportunity to visit the beach on the Bay of Pigs. A 45-minute stop, none of us were interested in more than getting our feet wet, and the location we stopped had rough coral edges with no way to actually dip our toes.
After about 10-15 minutes of photo taking, we boarded the tour bus and continued to Girón for lunch. Located in the Zapata swamp, this was the area where the invasion forces of 1961 were routed. I had fish and a beer for lunch.
After lunch we crossed the road to the Museum of Girón where numerous black&white photos displayed the Cuban perspective on the Bay of Pigs invasion. Outside were displayed tanks, aircraft and weaponry involved in the defense. Adrian’s talk reflected the Cuban focus which would be ever-present in his narratives throughout the journey.
Continuing on, we rode through the Zapata swamp along the southern coast as we headed east to Cienfuegos. Eighty minutes later, just after 4, after passing rice fields, and an oil refinery with tanks, we stopped in the town square, a World Heritage Site.
After admiring the architecture and facades, we crossed and entered the Catedral de Nuestra Señora de la Purísima Concepción.
Tall and wide, the white building has two unequally sized bell towers capped in red tile and sits on a corner. With three aisles, the clerestory stained-glass windows admit limited lighting, as the floor-level walls are mostly solid, with an occasional door admitting light. In the apse, a baldachin-like structure honors a statue of the patron saint, Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception. The cathedra, a cushioned armchair upholstered in white, sits below.
Cienfuegos sits on a well-protected bay along the southern coast of Cuba. Colonial architecture has been maintained, and we left the square for a ride along the malecon, stopping at an ornate former mansion, the Palacio de Valle, now a dining and meeting place. We climbed through Moorish-themed tile- and plaster-work to the rooftop bar.
With a mojito, we were serenaded by a trio of men, a lead singer and two guitarists. Exiting, we returned to the bus and headed to our lodgings for the night.
Assigned to room #1 with two beds, “Les chinoises” as I took to calling them were together in #2 while Carla headed upstairs to #3. After opening up my bags and getting organized, I got online on the house wifi. And then we lost power. Fortunately, Adrian had experiences with power outages and knew where generator-provided dining options were. We headed to Restaurant Bahía. A salad of green beans, white slaw, cucumbers and avocado started the meal. An elegantly presented main of fish and shrimp, accompanied by pumpkin and “dirty rice” proved filling.
It was dark by the time we ended the meal. As we walked back to the Arrendador Divisa hostel, we were advised Daylight Savings Time would end, and we were to make an early start in the morning. As the power was still out, I stripped the bed to just sheets, turned the fan on low (the AC and mini frig had been unplugged) and read a bit before going to sleep.
Day 3 – through Santa Clara and Ciego de Avila to Camagüey
Up with the alarm at 6:30 and after a tepid shower I dressed and packed. Heading to breakfast on the upper terrasse, we were greeted by a fresh fruit cocktail, juice, (very dark) coffee and scrambled eggs. We checked out and boarded the bus, heading to Santa Clara to visit the Mausoleum of Che Guevarra 70km and 90 minutes to the northeast.
A shrine to the Bolivian Expeditionary Force martyrs, the recovered remains are housed in a somber memorial where photography and talking is not permitted. After our visit inside, we were given time to take pictures. The weather had been threatening, and Adrian had insisted in lecturing us before turning us loose to get our shots in the ensuing drizzle.
Reboarding the bus, fifteen minutes later we arrived at the cathedral in Santa Clara just before 10am Sunday Mass would be held at the Catedral Santa Clara de Asís. A solemn high Mass officiated by the bishop, the servers were lined up in the narthex with censer and incense, processional candles and cross, and three co-celebrants. I managed to slip inside and get a few pictures before the service was underway. Of medium size, pews fill the central nave while the narrow side aisles are empty. Five armchairs cushioned in white sit behind the simple altar, the central slightly larger and raised up a step for the bishop.
Outside, I found an interesting public art mural, very Picasso-esque. Adrian and Pepe had left us in the crowded and tight confines of central Santa Clara while they went to get fuel. Standing on a narrow sidewalk, trying to avoid the light rain, we kept an eye open as we viewed the activity in through the open cathedral doors. The power had not returned, so it was interesting to watch the locals continue to deal with the situation.
Back on the bus, we set off towards Camagüey, 275km east down the central spine of the island. About half way, we would pass through Ciego de Avila, and I’d asked Adrian if we could have our rest stop there, as there is a cathedral.
Before that, we stopped at Paladar María for lunch. A hearty soup, fried pork with dirty rice and a salad, we enjoyed a break just before 1pm. An hour later, we arrived in Ciego de Avila. Adrian had hoped to show us a silversmith’s gallery, but it was closed on Sunday.
Two blocks down the street was the city square where the Catedral de San Eugenio de la Palma stands mid-block. While closed at 2pm, the yellow-orange façade features representations of swords on either side of an effigy of the patron warrior bishop.
Two and a half hours later we arrived in Camagüey at the Casa Mirelis Bianca, our lodgings for the night. Robin, our fifth member, joined us from Houston, having had to deal with an ear infection which delayed her start. My initial impression of the city was that the streets were laid out like a maze. In the central core, I noted that many of the buildings had been well cared for, in wonderful shape. A city composed originally of communities surrounding their churches, the eventual blending yielded intersections of 2, 3, 4, 5 and even 6 streets! Adrian gave us a brief introductory discourse on the city before turning us over to Andre, who, with 2 associate bike drivers, took us on a pleasant trip as dusk fell.
Included on this moving tour was a stop at the square where the Basílica Catedral Nuestra Señora de la Candelaria stands. A light cream painted building with rose highlights and a single belltower topped with a Risen Christ statue, it was closed as it was approaching 6pm, and the power outage was still active. Our final stop on the bike-taxi tour was a large cobblestone lined plaza surrounded by (closed) galleries and eateries. Brass statues on benches are placed in the space, casual depictions of real people.
Back to Casa Mirelis, we cleaned up before joining Adrian for dinner. Power was still out, and the generator provided light only to the front common space. We walked around two corners to Mesón del Príncípe Restaurante. (Les Chinoises chose to not join us.) On generator power, the menu was limited, so after a green salad of shredded lettuce, string beans and avocado, my chicken filet needed hot sauce to have much flavor. A can of Bucanero cervesa accompanied my meal.
Back at the residence, there was power for the fans and lights in the room. I had brought Permethrin to spray my clothing as a mosquito deterrent, so I treated my next day’s wear before reading and then going to sleep.
Day 4 – Holguin
Breakfast consisted of coffee, apricot juice, fruit (papaya, guava, pineapple), rolls and toast, with slices of cheese and ham, tomatoes and cucumbers. “The boys” (Pepe and Adrian) hadn’t had breakfast at their lodgings the day before and had remarked on it – they were being frugal to extend their wages as much as possible. So Carla and I made up sandwiches with the rolls and fixings, wrapping them in napkins. When packing my gear I accidentally left my shampoo and conditioner, as the shower had been cold with low water pressure.
We were picked up ahead of schedule, and headed to the rehearsal space for a contemporary ballet company, arriving about 10. Up a flight of stairs, we entered a wide space with high ceilings. Four women and six men had finished the first phase of company class, and the lead danseur was instructing on floor exercises to further limber them up. We were then treated to two works, seemingly a rehearsal: a solo by a tall woman in a long skirt, and a duet. Afterwards, the company sat on the floor and took questions from us.
Back out onto the street of Camagüey, we strolled the central commercial district, poking into shops – Adrian’s son would be having his fourth birthday and wanted a specific (Marvel Universe) action figure. Adrian finally got a Superman hat, getting much derision from his team. We stopped in the local government phone store trying to get my SIM without success – we needed to go to the airport. We did however pick up “data cards”, which are scratch off cards which allow use of public wifi hotspots, each card timed to an hour and costing about a dollar and a quarter (US.)
Back into the bus, we headed out to the airport. The Infotur office there was closed, with the excuse that the staff were home preparing for the impending tropical storm which was threatening the eastern end of the island. We passed by the railroad station, seeing old steam engines on display. I began to feel the SIM card purchase redemption would be futile. The local agent, who had accompanied us all morning was dropped in town. Apparently Pepe had still been encountering difficulties securing the promised petrol as he and Adrian were in stressed conversation.
Leaving the city, we headed out into the nearby countryside – we would be visiting Adrian’s grandmother, giving us an opportunity to see how “real Cubans” live. Seated in her backyard, we were given a cup of strong coffee while Adrian explained how his family made use of their several properties for subsistence living. There were several orchids in bloom, brightening the surroundings.
Around this time Adrian announced that after Holguin we would not be heading to Baracoa per our itinerary. The roads we would take are twisty and narrow as they cover a mountainside known for mudslides – and the coming storm could block the entry or exit. Adrian and Pepe had been sourcing large 40kg bags of rice and beans, which would join with our contributions to be sent to Baracoa – these would need to be sent separately as the city had been ravaged by an earlier storm and surge. He solicited our input as to what activities we might be interested in for an alternative 2-day stop. Our answers were urban, architecture, history rather than beach or forest.
We stopped outside Las Tuna for lunch after leaving Grandma. We rode about 15 minutes to a restaurant. Shredded pork, with cucumbers, dirty rice and casava, a starchy root was my selection. Leaving, Pepe spotted a company petrol station which was open, but was told that he was not on the list to receive fuel – despite his being told he was during his call back to Havana.
We reached Holguin about 5, making a quick stop at the central square for 15 minutes of orientation, before we reboarded. We headed out of town to a peak where we missed the sunset, but got some interesting dusk and twilight shots of the surrounding area. We even managed to get the guard to open the gate protecting the tower for Radio Cuba, avoiding the weeds surrounding the chain-link fence. Watching the street lights come on we had hopes for power that evening.
Les Chinoises elected to skip dinner and were dropped at the residence. We three proceeded with Adrian to Delicias Cubanos for dinner, where I had a salad and a shrimp dish. Flan was on the menu, a favorite of Adrian’s, so we had one to share. Pretty tasty. Returning to the residence, I had a ground floor room, and power would be available until midnight. I had prepped for a single night stay, so only needed the small roll-on bag, and was able to get comfortable for as long as we had energy.
Days 5 and 6 – Santiago de Cuba
Power was out when my alarm went off, and I had another cold shower before dressing for a good breakfast. At 9 we all boarded the bus, and were driven to 2 large public squares. Holquin is known for its rich architectural structures that date back to the 19th century, among many other historical places in the city which we saw on our walking tour the previous evening. Holgin is also a beach resort town, although we didn’t visit the waterfront.
The Catedral San Isidor occupies the entire block facing one square. Two large squarish towers anchor the west entrance, capped with red tiled domes topped with crosses. Open, the nave floor is tiled in a floral and diamond pattern of browns and yellow. A dark wood-beamed ceiling fills the vault. The sanctuary end is a T-shaped transept, with little light coming from small windows in the arms, hence keeping the altar in the dark.
One arm houses the sacrament in a tabernacle included in a Marian blue altarpiece. Behind the main altar and raised up two steps are seven armchairs, upholstered in white, the central being slightly taller for the bishop. Behind these chairs are three statues – Mother and Child and St Isidore bracketing a triumphant Risen Christ.
Back out onto the square, a large bronze bas relief sculpture depicting the history of Spanish occupation looms on a wall. We boarded the bus and began a winding exit, taking us past the stadium and a memorial to the revolution. We had success in getting 40 liters of fuel. Blocks of housing towers were off to one side, in stark contrast to the third-world buildings we’d been seeing. We started on the roadway towards Santiago de Cuba, a pretty much southern direction for 3 hours and 150km of rough roads. (Adrian had Pepe pull over at 12:30 for a pee break, and then proceeded with his orientation immediately on arrival. I needed to remind him that we all didn’t get the same break he had.)
We rode into the square where the cathedral stood, getting off to try to find lunch. The first couple of restaurants were filled, as it was noontime, so we finally wound up in Paradiso, a pizza place. After using the facility, I had a shredded ham and cheese pizza with apple juice.
Two blocks down, two blocks to the left and a right took us to the street where we split up into three residences. Budget for Adrian and Pepe, and for Mei and Dhong; Robin, Carla and I in the slightly more upscale solo digs. After getting settled, Robin, Carla and I headed back to the Cespedes Square, where the Basílica Metropolitana Iglesia Catedral de Nuestra Señora de la Asunción was just opening up.
Unusual for a cathedral, the main façade faces north. Because it sits on a rise overlooking the square, I was frustrated to find a good angle. Commercial shops line the street level, with the church plaza over their ceilings. Light gray in color with white trim and highlights, twin domed towers stand tall over the western end of the outside of five aisles. An angel surmounts the peak over the central door, while a tarnished copper dome with a lantern is set back over the high altar.
The custodian/guard was in the process of opening the large, tall and heavy doors, allowing both light and a breeze to enter. It is a stunning building. The interior is a warm cream color, with blue-gray trim in the arches, dressed in gold. Coffering fills the vaults, pale blue with white rosettes. Carved medallions of the Doctors of the Church in white top the columns, with scenes from the life of the Apostle James the Greater (Santiago) filling the clerestory level in the primary side aisles. Set back behind the altar, in the quire under a ribbed blue dome, the choir stalls and elaborately carved cathedra presides over the apse.
After about a half hour, we returned and crossed Cespedes Square. Two blocks beyond was a long pedestrian mall, stretching from the waterfront to the Plaza de Marte. A light drizzle threatened as we were faced with the choice of where to go. Deciding to avoid more retail, we headed west toward the harbor. Along the way we came to a Coppelia, an ice cream shop (chain) where I treated the three of us to a scoop of chocolate ice cream in a bowl – the only flavor they had.
Achieving the malecon, we strolled the waterfront. A long mural had been installed using painted tile, the wall one side of a square opening to the water. Various art installations, including spiky lights and a giant chair provided sources of conversation among the three of us. As we walked south, the space became more formal, with cast iron low fences and park benches under shading trees. We strolled back, find our street (Carla’s phone had data and Maps worked!) We climbed the hill to the hostel, where there still wasn’t power. I took a nap before finding a spot to read before dinner.
Adrian took the 4 of us to El Palenquito. Croquettes to start, followed by barbecue pork steak accompanied by sangria. On a lark, I tried the Cuban version of a tres leches cake, which came in an individual pie wedge container. Moist, nearly soupy, it was very sweet and had other flavors than the three milks I know from the Mexican version. Dinner cost 5080CP, which included the built-in 10% service charge.
