Our last day in Cuba! How did time escape me? We had tasks to accomplish this morning.
We walked a few torn-up streets to Hotel Nacional to exchange a little more Euros for CUCs, and to purchase our Cuban cigars. Our research was unwavering in that if we wanted “authentic Cuban cigars” we needed to purchase them only at hotels or the airport.
The cigar room at the hotel was located down a massive flight of stairs. I thought I was adequately prepared for our purchase…I was wrong. So many choices! The salesman, who spoke fluent English, did his best to give us the quick 411. We relied on his recommendations and made our purchase. Mission accomplished and back we walked to our casita to drop off our cigars and start our day.
I’m confident everyone can guess our next stop…our mercado for fritas…our last ones…at least for this trip. We walked along the familiar streets to Mimita’s, but this morning was different…it would be our last walk to their home.
When we arrived Luis was ready to prepare mamey shakes from the fruit we purchased yesterday at the paladista mercado. Vivid memories of my Mami making these shakes for our family jumped to my mind, albeit hers were made solely with frozen mamey bought during one of our family trips to Miami. While my girls fell in love, I savored my childhood.
The girls were quickly summoned by Mimita to give another technology lesson on her tablet. After they answered a slew of questions in Spanglish…which I translated, all five of us embarked on our last day’s adventure.
In our research we came across an area named Fusterlandia, where Cuban artist José Fuster reclaimed his impoverished neighborhood into a dreamy folk art kingdom. He uses childlike crude shapes and bright colors in his untrained compositions. His work has been compared to that of Picasso, a comparison that followed him in successful gallery tours across Europe.
We were fortunate during our visit to meet the artist while he was playing a game of chess. I purchased one of his tile works and can’t wait to hang his masterpiece in my home. Mimita and Luis were astonished we knew of this locale, yet they had never heard of it.
After leaving Fusterlandia we drove to a late lunch/early dinner at Rio Mar Paladar located at 3ra y Final # 11, La Puntilla | Miramar. The patio overlooks the sea near the mouth of the Almendares River across from the Torreón de la Chorrera.
The menu was scribed with perfect penmanship on a blackboard. We ordered Cubatas and guava daiquiris for refreshments along with ridiculous beef carpaccio for an appetizer. We dined on paella, shrimp, and fish. We engulfed the view, our dinner, and our fellowship.
After, Luis dropped the four of us off at the steps of University of Havana, where my Papi received his medical education. We sat on the steps and I imagined my Papi climbing on the very step on which I sat. Unfortunately, it was after hours and the university was closed to visitors but the bookstore was still open and we marveled at its small size and school supplies. We managed to grab some pictures and continued down Calle L.
The end of our walk deposited us at Hotel Nacional for some refreshments. The night air was brisk as we sat in the oversized rattan furniture on the U-shaped veranda. After a while, the girls tired and were ready to retreat for the evening…but Mimita and I had different plans. We both wanted to visit longer and share more stories.
We phoned Luis to pick us up and drop the girls at our casita. Back at Mimita’s, I sipped on a Cubata while listening to her and Nena recount stories of my Mami, Papi, and our family. I devoured everything they showed me…pictures, passports, and memorabilia.
We also shared stories of our Cuba adventures with Nena. Although Nena enjoyed our long winded tales, it was Mimita and I who giggled, snickered, and snorted in harmony. Time escaped us, both literally and figuratively, the clock struck midnight and it was time for this Cuban Cinderella to retire to her casita.
Up the flight of red concrete stairs, through the locked double front doors, in the slow and small elevator, past the locked wrought iron gate, in the wooden front door, and I was home away from home.
One last time on my balcony, this time fittingly by myself. My mind swarmed with a nostalgic slide show of the last nine days in my birth land.
Tomorrow…I will once again be 90 miles and a world away!
Until next time…
· izzy
For 50 years I eagerly listened to stories about Cuba from my parents, family, family friends, and even strangers. With the passing of my Papi and my Mami I began to long for the connection we shared with our birth-land. After months of planning, myself along with my two daughters and a close friend traveled approximately 93 miles south of Key West to the Pearl of the Antilles.
We arrived to Cuba as a party of four…but we felt like a party of five as we carried a backpack with us always. The backpack became known as la Mochila and Mimita affectionately nicknamed it “la 70 kilo mochila”. Each morning I packed la Mochila for the day ahead.
Early morning wakeup call! We were chomping at the bit for our road trip to Viñales. The four of us walked to Mimita’s home where we were once again greeted with café. Today Mimita would stay home to care for her mother and Luis would drive and accompany us on our first road trip in Cuba.
I awoke in my bed to the familiar humming of my room air-conditioner. What time is it? There was not a clock in my room and our cell phones slept in la Mochila. Who else is awake? What are we going to do with our day? It was a leisurely morning for all of us. Because of our limited Wi-Fi access, weather was determined by opening the wood shuttered doors to our balcony. The day was a overcast. It felt right, like a comforting blanket, we were assimilating to Cuba.
Up at eight bells!
No time for our customary trip to el mercado. We need to pack our overnight bags. We are taking a road trip to Varadero Beach.
We returned to the open air establishment for café and pictures on the beach. The wind had settled, the surf had calmed, and the red flag had been removed allowing bathers to venture into the pristine water.
Time to hit the road.
We awoke to a leisurely morning…my favorite kind of morning.
We arrived at Mimita’s where she had a stack of photo albums for us to enjoy. The pictures in the albums made me melancholy. Mimita’s albums contained many pictures I had never seen. My parents only had a few pictures of Cuba in their possession.
Good morning Cuba!
The girls and I started the day with our usual stop at our mercado for fritas. Then, we continued to Mimita’s house where we were greeted with our usual café and a surprise treat of malanga fritas. We had developed new traditions.
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