“Let’s go to Fusterlandia!” We carry the bikes down to the street and head out of the city, along the coast, through increasingly greener and quieter neighbourhoods. Old Havana is a lively city full of street activity, presumably because everyone is living in shabby and cramped appartments. In the old town the people are predominantly black. As you head out west through Vedado, a green and pleasant area full of detached houses with gardens, there are many less black people and the streets are quieter. Instead of the old yanqui cars, there are the Fiats and Ladas and some newer Kias. We pass by the Habana Libre hotel – the grandest and most modern looking hotel in the city. It was the newly built Hilton when Castro took over and moved into a suite there. No ordinary place for Fidel. No. There’s no point leading a revolution if you don’t live like the bastards afterwards, to paraphrase Arthur Baker. I’m sure he only ate rice and beans too.
Out on the edge of the city is the ‘convention zone’ – lots of trees and green spaces and some cavernous, empty-looking hotels. Beyond that are the smaller coastal communities, where Fusterlandia was created. Essentially a local artist called Fuster began to tile and decorate his house, his street, his neighbour’s houses, more walls……..with a nod to Gaudi and possibly Picasso. It’s done to great effect and attracts plenty of visitors.
On our way back into the city we pass the Diplomercado –
the supermarket in the diplomatic neighbourhood. We check it out. Result – digestive biscuits. And I only had to queue at the till for twenty
minutes. There are a few more parks out
here and we find John Lennon sitting in one.
Sadly, people keep nicking his glasses.
Originally banned by Castro, who was more of a Rolling Stones man, the
Beatles were eventually permitted on the radio in Cuba after John started
sleeping in bed with Yoko Ono and a hundred paparazzi to give peace a
chance. Apparently this is the only
recorded instance of Fidel changing his mind about something when in power.
 |
| in Lennon Park |
Later in the day we find another park full of locals all
scrolling through their smart phones.
This scene is repeated all over Cuba for the internet is now open to the
people and they can access wifi hotspots in public parks or at posh
hotels. You can spot a posh hotel by the
line of locals stood or crouched opposite the entrance looking at their
phones. To get on-line you need a
pre-paid card, available from the state-run phone office. We queued only half an hour for ours during
the early afternoon siesta period when things quieten down a little. It is possible to have the internet at home,
as we discovered later. But we’re not
sure if this is just for people in certain professions, or just for those who
can afford it. It costs one dollar for
one hour of internet. And don’t forget
the average salary is 25 dollars a month.
To leave Havana we decide to take a bus. There’s one state-run company that offers air-con comfortable buses to most cities and we get tickets at a (state-run) travel agent in the old town. It seems everything is state-run apart from the small restaurants and guesthouses and the fruit and veg sellers. Everything else looks so shabby and badly run it must be state-run. Our bus departs from the posher part of town, of course. It seems in a country of equals, some are more equal than others.
To leave Havana we decide to take a bus. There’s one state-run company that offers air-con comfortable buses to most cities and we get tickets at a (state-run) travel agent in the old town. It seems everything is state-run apart from the small restaurants and guesthouses and the fruit and veg sellers. Everything else looks so shabby and badly run it must be state-run. Our bus departs from the posher part of town, of course. It seems in a country of equals, some are more equal than others.
