The Windward passage lived up to its reputation and was unpleasant but finally the cliffs of Cuba emerged from the clouds and driving rain. After the low lying lands we have been travelling through it was good to see some mountains, not just mountains but the famous Sierra Maestra where Che, Marte and Castro waged their guerrilla war against Batista.
The cliffs on the east coast are impressive and Guantanamo Bay is huge, festooned with aerials and domes but there is a strict exclusion zone which we made sure to observe. Approaching Santiago de Cuba the guide and GPS all said there was an entry through the cliffs and we could see the lighthouse perched high above us but it is not until you are quite close that the harbour becomes obvious. Another surprise was the Spanish sixteenth century castle on the cliff, complete with large sea caves, battlements and cannon. The harbour is a calm and welcoming haven after the large swells of the Caribbean Sea.
We were boarded by the doctor and his assistant. Apart from the small hiccup of the thermometer reading only 31 degrees for Gary he signed our first piece of paperwork. He also was very good at extracting food, drink and sunglasses from us all while being extremely charming. The customs formalities were fairly relaxed after that and we were allowed ashore at the marina. The marina is clean, well looked after and crumbling, much like the rest of Cuba. There is plenty of rubble but by and large it is clean rubble. The Cubans are ingenious at patching, fixing and making do. We travelled by taxi into Santiago de Cuba variously, in a 1955 Chevy Bel Air (in which the Skipper got growled at for slamming the door too hard), a 1970's Lada and a Fiat 125. The city is large, noisy and entertaining. There are some touts but they are so friendly and charming it is hard to take offence. The hardest thing for us is that you start a conversation then you are asked for something, clothes, electrical goods, fishing gear and you feel guilty about not having something to give them, pencils and soap don't cut the mustard any more, now it's cell phones and anything electronic. In the end we decided not to give anything away, as we wouldn't have any gear left by the time we left Cuba.
We visited two museums. The Velasquez Museum in the Revolutionary square was beautiful, dark wood and tiles with three original pieces of 16 century furniture, which you are encouraged to touch, not to mention the Limoges and Meissen porcelain. The Revolutionary museum at the former police station was also a beautiful building but everything was preserved in climate controlled cases; the Molotov cocktails, guns, letters and the horrific photos of the dead.
We felt really safe in the city, apart from the pickpocket element. To get to the Music Traditonalle club we had to walk through the back streets after dark. The city Cubans seem to emerge in the evening to stroll and socialise and packs of small children race between buildings laughing and then looking solemn eyed at the strangers. The Music club was small and intimate with wooden chairs and barrels to sit on. The audience was small but the band was fantastic. To complete the picture there was even an older British lady who was here on a three week holiday with her much younger Cuban man candy.
We bartered for food at the marina and were able to buy some provisions at the market and the government supermarkets. The market produce is amazing, so full of flavour and this is the first decent cheese we have had since Tahiti. All I'd ever really heard about Cuba was politics, the American embargo, Havana and Bueno Vista Social Club. So it was unexpected to discover that the rest of the world has merrily been supplying Cuba with goods and services. The Dutch have a ship building plant, Canadians and Europeans holiday here and you can buy Italian Gnocchi and all sorts of pasta in the shops. Most Cubans seem to have cell phones, televisions, thought the lady who offers to do your washing has an elderly twin tub in which all the water has to be added by bucket from the rainwater tank.
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