Havana, Cuba

Cuba has many beautiful cities, but Havana is the queen of them all. Founded in 1519, early in Cuba’s history, its strategic location and safe natural harbour made it the ‘key to the New World’, the foothold from which the Spanish could begin the colonisation of the Americas. All ships bound to Spain stopped here first, and over the years, Havana grew into a thriving commercial centre. By 1607, she had surpassed all other settlements in Cuba, and King Phillip II of Spain granted the city the title of capital.

Havana has seen it all. The great galleons that brought the unimaginable riches of the New World to Europe, an occupation by the British, and the sinking of the USS Maine, which precipitated the Spanish-American War. Then later, the long, fierce battle for freedom from Spanish rule, the three American occupations, the Batista dictatorship with its glitz and gangsters, the triumphant entrance of the Cuban revolution into the city to the sound of salsa and the scent of flowers. And, of course, through it all, the everyday life, love, work and play of the city’s ordinary inhabitants.

All of this history hums around me as I take my first steps in this remarkable city. I leave the bus station and flag down a huge 1950s Chevrolet convertible. The sun glinting off its brilliant white paint job makes it look like a movie star. During the 1950s, the Batista dictatorship allowed Cuba to become a playground for the rich and famous of America. To bring them to their elegant parties and soirees, they imported luxurious Chevrolets. When the dictatorship fell, they fled the revolution with little more than the clothes on their backs and the jewels around their necks, leaving their cars behind. Later, the US trade embargo on Cuba made it difficult for Cubans to import cars, forcing them to keep these beautiful old rides running. Now, they are a symbol of the island and a testament to the resilience and inventiveness of its people in the face of difficulty.

We pull up into the cobblestoned old town, my hotel situated in the gorgeous Plaza del Armas. This gorgeous square was built in 1520 and is a treasure trove of colonial architecture. Today, the buildings lining it come mainly from the 18th century, all grand, stately and baroque. I sit underneath one of the tall royal palms and watch the pigeons roost on the marble statue of Carlos Manuel de Cespedes, the man who began Cuba’s long fight for freedom from Spanish rule in the late 19th Century.

Next, I leave the plaza and head down Calle Obispo, the old town’s main thoroughfare and one of Havana’s most lively streets. I follow it, stopping at the antique bookstores, the second-hand stores, and the old coffee shops. Then, I enjoy a long lunch in one of the street's many cafes. 

Here, in the translucent windows of a run-down Havana bar, I swear I catch a glimpse of a large man, hunched over a typewriter. For a second, I imagine I see Ernest Hemingway, who lived here between 1939 to 1960. His story of the Old Man and the Sea reminds me in a way of the history of Cuba’s Chevrolets. In the story, an old fisherman is pursuing a marlin, pushing himself to the limit, coming back empty-handed each day, and returning to his task the next. He is cared for by a young boy, who keeps him going, feeds him, untangles his nets, and keeps their little shack clean. Just like the Cubans and their Chevrolets, the boy never gives up on the old man; he keeps him going despite difficulty, hardship, and poverty, always there to make sure he can face another day.

It’s been a long day. My feet are sore from walking on the cobblestones, and I need to get out of the sun and cool down. I head to the Hotel Ingleterra, and from there take bus number 5 to the Playa del Este, the eastern beaches. After a quick ride, I arrive at a scene of golden sand and the perfect azure sea of the Caribbean. 

The first thing I do is get in the sea. The water is cooling and perfectly clear, soothing my aching muscles and washing away a long, hot day in the sun. I float for a while, thinking back on my journey so far. Finally recovered, I head to the sand to relax with a cool drink, watch the sunset, and prepare for my last night in Havana.