Travel to Cuba

ABOVE: La Havana.

At the 450 year-old Cathedral of San Cristobal, I was accosted by the street children. There was a half dozen of them. None was ragged and none looked underfed. One 10 year-old wanted me to give him my pen, "for my schoolwork." He talked English. A little girl asked for a Tropi-cola, the Cuban equivalent of coke. A more enterprising child wanted to sell me cigars "my mama makes." It was touching but I maintained a hard heart and walked on. They didn't seem to mind. They continued their game of tag on the cobbled stone street.

All along the Malecon, the lovers were sitting on the seawall doing whatever lovers do at 2 o'clock in the afternoon. Boys on bicycles rode by, laughing and shouting words of encouragement or otherwise to the couples on the wall.

I did not see any garbage or trash or even an empty bottle on the streets. The city was clean, as was Varadero. The people were well dressed and seemed to be content if not downright happy.

The workers at the hotel, front desk staff, bellboys and entertainers, spoke English, French, German and Spanish. The waitresses in the dining room were middle-aged ladies who, in spite of speaking English, called me "mi Amor" and "Mi Cielo" whenever they brought me mineral water to drink.

Waitresses in Belize do not call me "My love" and "My heaven," but considering the waitresses here are young and beautiful, it is probably just as well.

I went to a large two storey, half a block long store in Havana. It was crowded with Cubans, mostly women, pushing their shopping carts and gossiping. I was, perhaps, the only non-Cuban there. The shelves were not stocked full to overflowing, but there was a lot of goods, just the same. I bought three shirts and was surprised that the checkout counter was electronically operated with bar codes.

The National Hotel is a 50-year-old monument to capitalism in pre-revolutionary Cuba. It looks as good today as ever. A doorman opened the taxi door for me. Another opened the hotel door. The lobby was polished and the grounds outside were like a garden. We went up the elevator to the eighth floor and climbed stairs to the tower where we got a magnificent view of the city.

Downstairs, I asked at the desk for a rate sheet to find out whether this hotel cost more than the one I stayed at in Varadero. There was no rate sheet! The hotel is free - to the Cubans. If you have reason to visit Havana on business you are allowed to stay at the National Hotel. That was not amazing. What amazed me was that a Government-run project could be so efficient and clean!

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