Sunday – Santiago de Cuba
Today, we arrived at our second Cuban port-of-call, Santiago de Cuba.
Our tour escorting duties today took us up the highest mountain range in the region, known as Sierra Maestra. Four small minibuses took the long, windy road into the hills, stopping just briefly on the way up for a photo stop and then for about an hour at a Botanical Garden (I really don’t ‘do’ botanical gardens, but this one was in a particularly lovely location, with impressive views all around).
From the Botanical Garden, it was but a short drive to the highest point where the buses go, to a hotel where drinks could be bought and restrooms used. The rest of the way is on foot, a climb of 434 punishingly steep steps to reach the pinnacle, where a huge, 25-metre high rock, know as La Gran Piedra (or ‘Big Rock’) is perched at 1200 metres above Sea-level.
The climb on foot was a tough one; some folks decided it was beyond their physical capabilities, but most were determined to make it. The pay-off was a spectacular 360-degree panorama high above the world, with tree-clothed mountains stretching off in every direction, a weather-station situated on the adjacent peak and views down to the Caribbean coastline far below. The sun was hot, but the height and a light breeze meant conditions were not only perfect for viewing, but also the temperature was comfortable. As our guide told us; it was the perfect day to climb La Gran Piedra. He pointed out the location of Guantanamo Bay, which is visible on crystal clear days, but today it was just a little too hazy.
Back down at the buses, most folks enjoyed a cool drink before the hour-long journey back down to Santiago de Cuba. Interestingly; both journeys there and back were accompanied by a police motorcycle escort. No-one seemed able to ascertain from any of the guides what that was all about; it was perhaps nothing more than ensuring a smooth passage for the four minibuses; someone suggested it was just a way of giving the police something to do.
Back down at city level, the temperature rose noticeably. We stopped off at a small house which is now a museum, where Fidel Castro and his men hid in preparation for their revolution. Personally, I found it a little boring and could have done without it. The guide translated for one of the official guides in the museum as we all stood melting in the hot sun in front of the house. Once inside, there really wasn’t a great deal to see, other than a few bullet-holes above the front door. They do like to proudly point out their bullet holes; a little further on, as we returned to the city, we stopped by a large school which also played a large role in the revolution, which also features a rash of bullet holes across one wall. The bullet holes in the museum had, at one time, been plastered over, but had since been unplastered, because they were considered historic.
Once back in Santiago de Cuba, and after a brief stop at Revolution Square…
…we were led into a restaurant where lunch was served.
Food was accompanied by a very loud seven-piece band, singing and playing and harassing us to either buy one of their CDs (‘Now That’s What I Call Music to Ruin Your Appetite’) or to contribute towards their ‘tips box’. They weren’t that bad, actually, but I know the couple who were sat on the table with me, who had the band playing literally right behind them and into their earholes, weren’t alone in preferring their lunch to have been a quiet, relaxing time, accompanied by nothing more than the murmur of contented conversation.
After lunch, we walked a couple of blocks, admiring the Franco-Cuban architecture as we went, to a small, exposed and shadeless square, were we were given free time to burn in the early afternoon sun and beg to be let back on to the air-conditioned bus.
It was but a short drive back to the port, where we finally returned at about 4pm, desperate for a cup of tea on the shaded back deck of The Voyager.
