Havana truly is the heart of Cuba. Many other cities have played a crucial role in Cuba’s turbulent history but none as actively as the country’s capital. In this post you can read the report of my first and last days in the country. I tried to capture the essence of the city in the short time I had. For my full two week Cuba itinerary click here. You can also find a custom google maps there that can help you plan your visit.

My mojito in La Bodeguita, my daiquiri in El Floridita

Ernest Hemingway – about his favourite watering holes in Havana

Friday 12th: La Fábrica

The Trip

My Cuban adventure started the day before my flight. I packed most of my stuff already together with my friend Rachel. She would house sit while I was gone so I needed to show her all the things she needed to know about my place. The next morning, I finished adding pictures to my post about Madrid. My friend Blanca, being super nice as usual, had offered to accompany me to the airport. Saying goodbye is always shit but I couldn’t have been happier with my send-off. As expected, the flight was delayed for about 45 minutes. Boarding went smoothly although I did sit down in the wrong seat first, causing some confusion and embarrassment.

It was a long flight and the food was shit. Step it up Air Europa! I kept myself busy watching movies and reading the whole information section in my Lonely Planet. After landing I waited for about half an hour to pass the border control. But even with that delay I still had to wait another couple of minutes for my backpack. Finally reunited with my stuff, I headed out and realized I needed CUCs. So I got in line to exchange my stash of euros. Soon I noticed the line was not advancing at all. Hence I let a taxi driver convince me to pay him in euros and get a better exchange rate in the bank the next day.

The driver was very friendly. We ended up chatting a bit during the 40 min drive to the centre. Once in the Cuba 58 hostel, the night guard welcomed me, and told me to arrange the check-in with the girl in the morning. I dropped my stuff at my bed and grabbed a beer after consulting the nearest American about the best one. We got to talking and drinking and eventually they (Gemma, Carlos and Alec) convinced me to join them to La Fábrica. I had no clue what that was, but it sounded exciting.

La Fábrica

We grabbed a cab around the corner and convinced him to take us down the Malecón for 2 CUC each. I got to know Gemma and Carlos a bit on the backseat during the drive. We got in line and payed the cover and got a drinking card, which would be stamped for every drink. This eliminated the need for cash inside, you simply paid when you got out. The place was incredible. It’s basically a museum/bar/club with several rooms and expositions to discover.

After going around a bit I ended up talking to Carlos for a while on the terrace. Meanwhile Alec seemed to know everybody in this place from his previous hostel. Gemma discovered a huge back room with a live band. I got a monstrous rum coke and we went to that sala, which, amazingly, was air conditioned. The concert was great, and the DJ afterwards was funky as hell. Apparently, I could pay the bill with euros, so my restricted budget went out the window and more rum coke was obtained. We left when the DJ stopped, and I honestly still remember paying and getting out but nada of how we got home or into bed… A great start!

Saturday 13th: Habana U Na Na

Habana Vieja

Slightly confused but, as usual, in my bed (yes it was the top bunk), I wondered how I got there… In the end I decided it didn’t matter. I got up and went to brush my teeth. The hostel staff greeted me in the common space with a lot of ‘Buenos días, mi vida’ and a plate full of breakfast. I had no clue breakfast was included, but I wasn’t about to complain. Very happily, I finished my fried egg with bread, the banana, piña and even drank the coffee. I hate coffee but I already felt like I was going to need it. Since the hostel is basically dead centre in Habana Vieja, I decided to just start from there.

However first I had to exchange some money, which I did not do in the airport the day before. I found a bank some blocks away and exchanged my stash of euros into CUCs. After I doubled back into the centre and walked past the Bodeguita del Medio. So, obviously, at 11 in the morning, I had my first mojito.

I walked from the Cathedral to the Castell De La Real Fuerza, where I admired the huge model ship and the impressive harbour view. I strolled through the Plaza de Armas and visited the Palacio de Capitanes Generales. From there I got to Plaza Vieja over Mercaderes and on to the Plaza de Assisi. I tried to take a closer look at (read: get onto) the cruise ships docked right next to the Plaza. Security was too tight unfortunately and there was no way I could get on without some illegal manoeuvres.

Capitolio

However, a bit later, on my way to the Capitolio, I picked up my old habit of hotel crashing. I walked into the fancy Hotel Raquel lobby like I belonged and ordered a Mojito at the beautifully decorated bar. Surprisingly a hotel guard convinced me to enjoy my second Mojito on the rooftop, which he rightly promoted as being even prettier.

Walking Further down Amargura I found a cute hipster sandwich stop which, paired with another mojito, became my lunch spot. I had a delicious cerdo asado sandwich with yucca and semi bitter jelly. I got to the Capitolio just in time for the last tour.

The tour was super interesting, and the history and architecture of the place is definitely worth the time and money. I walked home past the musea (Revolución y Arte) that were already closing back to the Plaza de 13 de Marzo and the hostel.

The Fortress

I took a refreshing shower and geared up to go check out the fortress at the other side of harbour. After some asking around, I found the right bus that dropped me off at the exit of the tunnel from where I walked to the Fortaleza de Carlos de la cabaña. The fort was huge and the views impressive. I was about to leave to check out the firing ceremony which I thought was in the El Moro fortress. Turned out I was wrong, so I stuck around in Cabaña until they fired the cannon at 9.

I shared a taxi back home with some Spanish girls back through the tunnel and got to the hostel rather exhausted. I talked for a long while with a Taiwanese girl who turned out to be a novelist specialized in food culture. All that talking about food had made me realize I did not have dinner yet. I excused myself semi hangry and asked around on the street for a kitchen open after 11. A friendly Cuban walked with me all the way to Compostela 157 where I enjoyed another mojito with cerdo asado and delicious moros y cristianos (rice with black beans). I walked back to the hostel and basically passed out on my bed.

Sunday 14th: Arte, Revolución y más Ron

The Musea

Waking up well rested at 8 is a luxury I rarely get to enjoy even at home. Getting served breakfast after is even rarer. So I enjoyed it to the max. The musea I was too late for the day before were on the agenda for today. On top of that Aileen from the hostel informed me about an Afro-Cuban rumba party at 2 o’clock at the Callejón Hamel.

I walked to Museo de la Revolución and (as expected) enjoyed the building’s architecture more than the (very anti-USA) exposition. It was interesting however to see the story from the Cuban point of view. After seeing the replica of the famous Granma yacht and vehicles of the revolution, I walked the next block over into the museum of fine art. I must say that, despite it not being my thing entirely, I did enjoy the kickass expo (and the air-conditioning).

Malecón

I decided to walk towards the forts near entrance of the harbour. Eventually I ended up walking all the way down the malecón until reaching the Hotel Nacional. I managed to walk in relatively easily and ended up sneaking into a room on the top floor. I gave myself a tour and enjoyed the view from the balcony for a while. Going back down, I looked for the amazing pool and enjoyed the garden of the hotel which hosts a little expo about the Cuban missile crisis.

After exploring the whole establishment, I walked all the way up to the Jose Marti memorial. Which to be fair was probably too far for my poor feet. Exhausted I took a short break out of the burning sun and cared for my slowly forming blisters. I rested a bit on the Plaza de La Revolución before I walked down to Callejon Hamel only to discover the rumba party was already over. Apparently, its every Sunday from 2 to 3pm but according to later sources rather underwhelming. A local engaged in the project showed me around the community project and I ended up having some bilogon (some local cocktail) with pregnant Jeni.

Ron

I managed to get a bus back to the hostel and took a small siesta and shower before joining Ana and Sofie for some mojitos and daiquiri in the nearby bar Bilbao. When the owner asked if the drinks were OK, I joked that the next one could be stronger. To my surprise he took my joke a bit too serious and came to pour in some more rum. He did the exact same thing to our daiquiris afterwards.

We managed to find a restaurant on the way back and I arrived ‘late’ to my own date with the Americans. However, they chickened out, so it was just me and the Germans that went to la Fábrica. There were way less people than on Friday. After showing the girls around a bit we joined a crew of black locals and some Australian girls. My favourite bartender made sure I had way more than responsible amount of rum. It’s just not a good idea to let me pour my own cocktails. We dance the night away. How we got home or when will always remain one of life’s many mysteries.

After this I continued my Cuban itinerary to the wonderful Valle de Viñales. I went around the entire country but I ended up in Habana again for my last nights before my flight.

Saturday 27^th: Back in Habana

Back home

We were on the drive from Varadero along the beach and towns. I was very glad when the driver asked if I wanted to connect my phone to the speakers and we drove the remainder of the trip listening to my music. The drive went smoothly and before I realized we were already standing at the very place where I had, about two weeks ago, started my Cuban adventure: the Cuba 58 hostel. I invited the Mexican girls that had shared my collectivo to join me to La Fábrica and we said hasta luego.

I walked into the hostel and was immediately greeted with a kiss and a hug. Apparently they remembered me, I would find out later why… I dropped my stuff at the best bed in the dorm (according to the lady at least) and connected to the Wi-Fi. Amber (a Dutch friend I had met in Trinidad) was online and immediately invited me for a cocktail in El Dandy. I told her I would be there in 20. I quickly changed and hung my wet stuff up to dry before going out to meet them.

Pub Crawl

We caught up a bit and two cocktails later the plan for the afternoon was clear: wander through Havana Vieja and have a Mojito in any place that sold it for 2,50 CUC or less. After 2 more I realized I was really hungry and hadn’t had any lunch yet. So I stopped at this small Japanese place and ordered their weird but delicious variant of a burger. Meanwhile some Germans that my Dutch friends had clearly met before bumped into us. After getting my burger, which was one of the best things ever, they took us to a bar they knew. By this time, we were at 6 or 7 Mojitos, which was starting to show.

Salsa

The girls started dancing to the salsa the band was playing and we got acquainted with a solo Canadian traveller who joined us in the bar. We ended up receiving the band’s shakers and started participating in the spectacle. “Ze Germanz” had to leave to catch their flight so it was just us and our new Canadian friend. We also invited him to La Fabrica and agreed to meet at 10PM on the upstairs terrace.

We all had another one of those Japanese burgers and got to know the boyfriend of one of the girls running the place. He claimed he had a burger every single day. But he patiently let us have ours first. I invited him to go out with us, but he said he was a semi pro beach volleyball player and had to play tomorrow. We said goodbye and both the girls and I went back to our place shower and change.

La Fabrica

I managed to convince one Dutch guy and an American girl in the hostel to join me and share a taxi. We got one for 8 CUC for the three of us. I started chatting a bit with Thenardier, our driver, and he told me he would take me to the airport for 15 the next day. I eagerly wrote down his number before getting out at La Fabrica. We had to stand in line for only 5 min despite all the warnings we had received about the place being packed. I immediately went to my favourite bartender who gave me a standard half litre of rum with a splash of coke.

We walked up to the terrace and got there at 5 past 10. Clearly the tardiness of the group had come from the Spanish guys (no surprises there) because the girls where already waiting, joking about me being late. I had agreed with the Dutch guy he would fake being French and see how long it took the girls to figure it out. Right when we all got acquainted our Canadian friend walked in as well. We all went to admire the artwork a bit and took some pictures. I convinced them we should check out the live show before it ended.

Dancing

We went downstairs to check it out. As usual it was really entertaining and very good music. There we also bumped into the Mexican girls form the collectivo, making our group a merry band of 9. My second muy Cuba no tan Libre got me to dancing level and so we moved from sala to sala dancing our asses of. I ended up taking a taxi back home around 3, right before the place closed. I shared with the Mexican girls since they were headed the same way. Happy with my last night out I crashed into my bed, comfortably surrounded by two ventilators (thank you owner lady!).

Sunday 28th: Adios Cuba

Bus ride

I woke to the sound of the same fans that helped me drift asleep. It was almost 11 and apparently that’s check-out time. Or at least that’s what one of the ladies told me when she saw me crashing still. I bet I didn’t look like I was going to make it out of that bed any time soon. To her (and my) surprise I did manage and took a shower to actually wake up.

My plan for the day was the Cemetery of Colon, the only issue was that it was actually quite far away, and I had no clue how to get there. Luckily, the ladies from the hostel came to the rescue again and told me to take the line 27 bus. She said it does some ‘vueltas’ but it gets you there in the end. I gathered my stuff and left it in the hostel somewhere before I went out to the bus stop. It was actually cloudy for the first time and the temperature had dropped some degrees from the usual 30. It was still very humid though, so I was a waterfall within 10 min.

Corpses everywhere

A German and Swiss girl and a Dutch dude joined me on the bus which they were taking only up to the Callejón de Hamel. As always, the bus was positively packed but I ended up with a spot with my head out the window once I said goodbye to the others. It took the bus a good 40 min but I did get there eventually and I honestly did not mind cruising through the city with my head out the window and music in my ears. I kept an eye on where I was on maps.me but still missed the right stop and had to walk back for a while to reach the front gate.

I only had bills of 50 CUC so Alice (the friendly girl at the gate) could not give me back my change. She said just go in and come back when I leave to see if she has change then. I enjoyed dwelling around the tombs hungover and with Odesza blaring in my ears for about an hour and a half. Alice could now change my bill and I asked what movie she was watching. They didn’t know the name, but I quickly recognized Ready Player One, which they made repeat 5 times while they tried to pronounce it.

Hungry

I walked out if the graveyard and looked for some food. I found a tiny local place selling sandwiches and I got a chorizo one and two cups of fresh Piña juice. The whole thing cost me 1 CUC. I decided to go back to the centre and asked some random guy where I could take the bus. He gladly showed me and I waited for about half an hour for it to arrive.

I got back to the hostel and after plugging in my phone a bit I went out on a cash and souvenir hunt. Before leaving however I called my taxi guy from the hostel phone to arrange a ride to the airport at 8. I found what I needed for my friends at a little hand crafts market I bumped into. I wandered a bit more through the old city. Mentally saying goodbye to each and every place.

Hasta Luego?

I got back to the hostel and chilled for a while with some other guests. We had some beers and were starting to get hungry, so we decided to go and have another one of those super cheap, super yummy Japanese burgers at Crepe Sayu. Unfortunately, when we got there the place appeared to be closed. So, we ended up eating a burger and tiny pizza in a small place a block away from the hostel for 2 CUC. I gave them all my number and told to let me know when they were headed for Madrid.

I said goodbye and climbed into Thenardier’s 40 year old Lada and we headed for the airport. After thanking him, we exchanged numbers before I got out and walked into the terminal. I checked in my backpack and waited patiently until it was time to board. 9 hours later and only like an hour and half of sleep I touched down on Spanish soil again. Home sweet home.