Overnight
the country has decorated every public space with Castro shrines.
Our last bus
ride was an 8-hour slam fest over potholed roads that are the national highway.
Cloudy and rainy for the first time this trip --- probably a good day to pass
through the weary towns and sugar-caney fields. The bus stops at the train
station and we’re forever grateful we didn’t take the 1920’s French trains that
top out at 25mph! But the BIG thing to
realize is Santiago de Cuba is Castro’s hometown and where the revolution
began. The most African, most musical, second-largest city in Cuba. Come down
in July for the biggest, craziest Carnaval thanks to the blend of
Afro-Spanish-even Chinese layers.
After a
sweaty search we luck out and settle in a family home/restaurant on the busy and
buzzy pedestrian mall. That’s Pat waving from our breezy top-level room ---
people watching, mountain views, Italian husband with Cuban wife owners. A pot
of gold at the end of our Cuban rainbow ride. Spaghetti! The town
hums from first light til dusk and we can see it all. Diesel noise mixed
with softshoe shuffle. Truck-buses taking locals to who-knows-where, since
unemployment is massive.
The 5km walking
street ends at the port. Tons of food are piled in warehouses, including these
sacks of beans from Canada. A cruise ship full of Europeans docks on this very
historic day. There’s the usual dozens of important colonial palaces, forts,
and cathedrals. Worth mentioning is the Bacardi museum, oldest in Cuba.
Impressively ornate and soaring cathedrals too. This basilica was being set up
with the classic manger scene --- the baby doesn’t appear til you-know-when.
Breakfast
was served by a niece, an aunt, a grandma, or a daughter and at last the
portion didn’t leave us waddling out. On the street Rick arranged a slightly
illegal (are you shocked?) switch of currencies and gets 4 pizzas for about 24
cents! But the passing of Castro has started to wrap this city and country in a
sombre funeral shroud…
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