End of Baracoa: Mellow day after that crazy hike.
Oh, the hike: too many uphills. I nearly gave up and our guide carried my backpack. The over-dressed Swiss couple with us were bird-watchers and disappointed as such. Peter and I were murdered by the hills up, but it did make the down all the more rewarding. The best of all was jumping into a cool pool in the river. It was one of the most satisfying moments ever. There were little shrimps that hurt when they walked on you.
They have the plants whose leaves close when you touch them, like in the Exploratorium.
The official tour included 40 minutes at Playa Maguana on the way back, where we had been the day before. I cooled my fee in the surf and guzzled some sour glasses of orange juice and a limonada.
Now, Habana. Deciding to fly from Baracoa was a good one. We got to the Casa Particular yesterday evening to discover that it is in an apartment building, and we didn't know which buzzer (many of which were unmarked) to ring. So we rang them all, bringing women to their balconies who tried to direct us, but we couldn't really hear them. Eventually, we found Mario, our host.
Our "room" is an apartment with beautiful high ceilings and old furnishings and decorations. Two large tortoise shells are turned into candelabras.
Our casa only serves breakfast, so we wandered out to get dinner, guided by Lonely Planet. We both had instinctive night-city reactions once on our busy street. There were not many lights or many people out. I reminded myself that Havana is a safe city - pick-pocketing and purse snatching are the main crimes - there are no guns or drugs.
The restaurant was good even by home standards - delicious by Cuban. Wood oven pizza and actually spicy sauce on our Pasta Arrabiata - we do miss the chili pepper, so.
There was a birthday party in one of the apartments below us (we learned today when I asked Mario about it). Falling asleep to the music was not bad.
Breakfast was good. We have returned to an area that has milk. In Baracoa it does not seem to be available and coffee is brewed with sugar. Still, I think we will try to buy some provisions since we have a kitchen. After eggs for breakfast nearly every day (the day we asked J. to give us a break, she fried hot dog slices instead), cereal sure sounds great.
Today, Peter has led the way on one of the walking tours outlined in the guide. After the long detailed Museo de la Revolucion, I proposed we wait until another day for the Art Museum.
The change booth in the hotel would not change CUC to Moneda Nacional - the first time we have been told no about that in a Cadeca.
No comments:
Post a Comment