Che

Right from the opening image, his black army boot, up to his lit cigar with smoke floating about, to that wiry and distinct black beard, Benico was everything that was the iconic man, Che. Lynn and I meet at Nova yesterday for the Guevara feast that is Che Part 1: The Argentine and Part 2: Guerrilla.

With that opening scene, I whispered to Lynn that I'd loved it already!

I was to see this for MIFF in August, but life got in the way. Having heard mixed reviews about it, Lynn and I had a pre-movie marathon coffee and discussed our low expectations. Although both acknowledging that our Cuban travels would outweigh anything average about the two movies, and then Del Toro can really do no wrong!

Part 1 was really the highlight for me, which was Cuba. A film to totally sweep you up in the man, his ethics and humanity, and his plight. Jumping around a bit to give you the history lesson that goes with the story of the Cuban Revolution, the UN Assembly speech is particularly strong. But it's the doctor and the man that it totally enchanting....treating his wounded men, and the peasants and their families, setting an example for his troops, and his high personal standards....amazing.

But then the scenes taking him wheezing through the jungle, with his asthma, are just heart breaking, and warming all at once. The politics, and how Che came to be Fidel's right hand man, is so impressive. Soderberg had the tension build, and build, and build, and even knowing where it was going, and how the fight would end, this film caught all the romanticism that is Che and Cuba's triumph.

A movie marathon break between the two films, Lynn and I walked across Lygon Street to Tiamo Cafe, and put the staff on a challange to serve us red wine and pizza in our strict schedule....with success.

Part 2 skipped forward to Che smuggling himself into Bolivia, training his army, and working on gaining the same political freedom he had won for Cuba to his homeland. This half is perhaps where the bad reviews about too much time walking through the jungle, which didn't necessary bother me, although unlike the first, it was a little tougher to keep each character straight in my head. It may also have been the wine, and the 5 hours of beautiful, young and then aging, Benico!

The complete movie Che, in 2 parts, has only increased my love of Cuba, and makes me want to return as soon as possible! The admiration of Che, the Revolution, and Cuba has been stirred and fed again!

The heartbreak of his death, knowing, again, where we were heading, but then still being stunned by seeing it play out in front of us. I don't know how accurate the final scenes are, and I had thought they weren't sure how it all ended (and it took an age to locate and return his body to rest in Santa Clara in the heart of Cuba), but I will never get that image of his execuation out of my head. And the irony of his body being airlifted out by an American helicoper, after all the fight for the greater freedom. The sadness!

Australia, DeCameron and Mikey

Another day of driving, heading along the coast initially and then finding autovisto with limited trouble this time, we made a detour with the idea of having lunch at a town called Central Australia...but found nothing but the opportunity for a couple of silly photos with the town sign.

Despite being on the autovisto, we arrived into Havana over on the east side, which was where we were planning to go once we got back. We stopped at the Castillo de la Real Fuerza and walked through the old fort, and up the lighthouse, after a funny visit with the lads in the harbour control tower - they told us that they don't get to use the Aussie flag much to greet ships coming into Havana port! A great view of Havana, old and new and developing, from this side.

Sadly, in a moment too focused on icecream, I lost my camera and all my shots for the trip thus far here at the fort....it was hot, and we needed icecream!! El stupito!

Getting back to Home Sweet Norma, we had a nap, and then scoured our three different guide books for somewhere for dinner...somewhere we felt like eating. We had been warned that you don't go to Cuba for the food! A place listing all the delights we had been dreaming of, and sounding way too good to be true was read out, and then trek to Vedado was made for this mirage-sounding place to eat.

Driving into the area of the listed restaurant, and then past the street, our hopes started to fade. A loop back had a food sign spotto-ed and then the name DeCameron was read....could it be! We parked and walked to the nondescript door, from which a head poked out of the window within the door, and confirmed we were in the right place. Decked out in music deco, Jessie commented 'there is even salt and pepper on the table'! Needless to say, we enjoyed this meal very much!

The next day we returned the car, and then made a cigar purchase after many offers. In no other country I have I ever been taken into so many people's living rooms, which was on offer whenever you answered someone who approached selling cladistine cigars. Very funny exchanges and language interpretations, these visits were, and a little glimps into the locals real lives.

We visited El Capitolio, and it's large dome hovering over the diamond of measurement for Cuba, and also the congress like rooms (modeled on Washington DC). Following this, we walked down park like Pasoe Dr Marti, to enter the Museo de la Revolucion. Here a seemingly endless array of photos, documents, and random clothing articles take you through milestones and propaganda relating to the revolution and coming to power of Fidel Castro.

Having rested out an hour long downpour on the steps of Museo de la Revolucion, we commenced a pub crawl along O'Reilly, starting with mojitos and pina colados, and cigar, at a local but touristy place, with the band playing. Moving on from there a young lad was touting in front of the next empty, very local bar, and we entered heading for our next drink. This stopped ended up being our night of Cuba, with mingling with the locals, signing the wall, dancing, and super strong mojitos. Mikey, our host, was a very liberal dispenser of the rum he had behind his bar, and also played DJ by running across the street to turn the bar's music system up. Before long Heath was getting bar tending lessons, and we were all feeling our local mojitos.

Stumbling out of Mikey's in all sorts, we eventually found Dominica for a meal along the same street, to mark the last night of Cuba for the 4 of us.

Having one last day in Havana by myself, I took in much of the streetscapes again and wandered about. I found the old lady Lynn recommended I track down for a photo, and took things easy for the day before another day of flying.

Trinidad de Cuba

We picked up our hire car and headed off out of Havana, for a roadtrip. Jessie in the back feeling the effects of a dodgy meal, and Melissa figuring out how to drive on the wrong side of the road. Heath and I were studying the maps, ready for a 5 hour trip down to Santa Clara.

Hours later, we figured out that we had completed a round trip down to Cuba's Las Vegas and back, and then had been around the loop and back trying to get on the road to get us to where we wanted to go. Like driving the Western Ring Road and back, trying to choose the right turn off to Ballarat, with absolutely no signs and nothing to distinguish the autovisto from any other turn off. Just when we were about to give up, and the level of frustration in the car was high, we took a second turn and a soldier on the road confirmed we were on autovisto. I think we could have all kissed him! He was nonplussed when we slowed up to him again and confirmed we were heading in the direction of Santa Clara.

The four lane highway, once we were finally on it, was a breeze, passing trucks loaded with people, and so many people walking along the road, looking for a ride. We stopped at a roadside servo for food, and our ever pressing obsession with el bano (clean? lady on the door demanding money? how much did you pay? did she give you paper? door close? flush??), before following actual signs to Santa Clara.

Santa Clara is the final resting place of Che Guevara, and the site of the battle of the Revolution. Arriving fairly late here in the day, we had limited time to see the main sights. A lad on a bike offered to take us around, him riding in front and showing us the way - and thank goodness he did! The Plaza de la Revolucion Ernesto Guevara and the Monumento a la Toma del Tren Blindado were on either side of this town in the middle of Cuba.

Our man Renald got us to the mausoleum with just 5 minutes to spare, and I am glad we made it. The reverence of being inside the resting place of those who had fallen for Cuba's revolution was very well done, and felt meaningful. Back out into the blazing sun to admire the bronze statue, we then jumped back into the car and Renald took us through the tiny one way labyrinth streets of Santa Clara to the four train carriages of Barista's troops left from the battle with Che and his men, now a musuem - which was actually closed when we got there.

Renald took us out to the road heading to Trinidad, his little legs having peddled his and our way around Santa Clara, for a few dollars.

Santa Clara to Trinidad was a road through the Escambray mountains - climbs and dips, with drops to valleys on our right and speeding trucks coming in the other direction. A stressful, and beautiful drive through, of which Heath did with ease! We made it to Trinidad in time, before dark. Here we believe we were scammed into staying at a casa particular that was not where were had planned to, which was actually going to be Nelson from Havana's contact. After our long day of travel and stress, we were taken along to Maria's house by another lad on a bike, assuring us that he knew Nelson. Tired and over it all, we were led, checked in, and then taken to the other side of town for dinner to 'the best place in Trinidad'. Grumpy and feeling scammed, the overpriced deal and the chicken-lobster-shrimp did nothing to impress us!

A new day, and well rested, we were served breakfast at Maria's, and then started wandering the gorgeous streets of Trinidad. A Heritage listed town, the balconied colonial houses and cobbled streets were amazing. We walked through, chatting to the locals, and taking in Plaza Mayor and the church, and then seeing the view from one of the highest points in town - from mountains to sea, rooftops and streetscapes.

After a few beers to wait out a heaft downpour, we grabbed the car and headed to Playa Ancon, for some beach time. Blue blue water, white sand....and pina colada's brought to you in the ocean - why would you want to be anywhere else!

That night we sought out a dinner that wasn't chicken-lobster-shrimp, despite much hassling by touts, and then took in the salsa of the gathering on the steps near Plaza Mayor with mojitos. Deciding that the grand stand style gathering of tourists did not need to see that white girls can't salsa, we soon headed back to our casa for the night.

La Habana

A cooked breakfast at Norma's for the 4 our us started our day of walking around this city. We happened upon Museo de Chocolate, and marvelled at what 1 CUC could get us as for samples, as we walked through the streets of Old Havana and it's balconied old colonial buildings. The colours, smells and friendly people on the streets, I could tell right away I would love this place!

We walked down to meet Ennedy, a tour guide the others had found the day before, stationed with her horse and carriage, in the Church of San Francisco plaza, and started a tour of the sights of the city. Our first stop was the Two Brothers Bar for a mojito (of course!), before we passed the beautiful train station, and made our way to the Plaza de la Revolucion. Taking in the Che wall, and the Memorial Jose Marti, Ennedy then took us through Chinatown, and then past Parque Central and Capitplio.

Ennedy was great, telling us much of the landmarks and history of her city, and also answering any and every question we had. We learn of the rationing system, and also what Casto and his government provides for his people, such as education, health system, covers rent and all utilities, and provides an allowance. Not much, leading to the basic lives of Cubans, the other disadvantage that was highlighted was their inability to travel.

We walked though the market, and took in more of the streetscapes, before getting a Coco Taxi over to Coppelia for ice cream. We changed casa particulars, and thus took a nap back at Nelson's, before heading out for a meter long beer and the Cuban fare of pork, shrimp and lobster, sitting in Plaza Vieja with a band playing.

Three Flights And Five Countries Later

An early start for me following the test match, Earl, the Waving the Flag bus driver for Antigua and board member of Antiguan cricket - plus adjudicator of the man of the match award - drove me out to the airport for my day of flying. After checking into my Liat flight, I wandered across the road to take in the lush green sight of the former Antigua cricket ground, and walk through The Sticky Wicket, the West Indies Hall of Fame.

Boarding my two hour flight to Santa Domingo, after one of the best breakfasts I had had for a long time in the Banana cafe in the airport, I started reading Che Guevara's Motorcycle Diaries, which gave me background on the iconic man, and also reinforce a lust for South America travel.

Arriving in the Dominican Republic, and gaining a new stamp in my passport for a three hour stay given my airline change, I chatted to my flirty and cute Customs offical who informed me that I didn't have enough time to go into the city and back. Shame....next time!

Another flight, and this time to Panana City. Flying into this Central American city after another 2 hour flight on Copa Airlines this time, I took in the view of the spread of buildings from just over the wing. A busy and bustling airport, and just enough time to walk from one end to the other to grab my flight to my destination, Havana, Cuba.

Getting into Havana after another 2 hour flight, it was late and dark. I managed to change money into the Cuban Peso Convertable, and then source a taxi into town. I followed the directions to our casa particular, which are private homes registered as accommodation options, only to find, through much language difficulties, that I wasn't staying there! Luckily the home owner walked me through the streets of Havana to Norma's casa particular, where I was staying.

Eventually I made it across town to meet up with Melissa, Jessica and Heath, who had been waiting for some time at Hotel National, our original meeting place. They had had time to sample many of the hotel's experiences, and were giggly and hot when I got there! A mojito to toast our week ahead, when made it back to Norma's.