us safely to the Palacio de Valle (Calle 27e) for dinner
in this former mansion based on a Moorish palace.
The rain is pounding down as the day closes. Guess I’ll
miss the rooftop panoramic view. More water than fire
today, but the memories shine.
Trinidad
Choices this morning: go to Playa Ancon to splash in
the waves or explore the city of Trinidad, a UNESCO
World Heritage Site considered Cuba’s premier
stronghold of colonial architecture. Centuries ago,
sugar plantation money built these recently-revived
pastel homes. Foreign tourists now stir the economy.
I can’t resist the Museo Romántico (Calle Hernandez
Echeri 52), a.k.a. Palacio Brunet. The 1812-era
residence displays decorative art, family portraits and
handsome crockery in its 14 rooms. At the entrance,
a horse carriage reminds me of the ones that still clip
clop on these streets.
Soon I spy small shops selling traditional crafts
including handmade pottery and embroidered clothes.
Galleries are stocked with paintings from realistic to
surreal. Credit cards aren’t an option, but I converted
plenty of my dollars to CUCs — special visitor currency.
Before the afternoon story exchange with the city’s
writers, I accompany a Latin American literature
professor who’s our brilliant translator. The mission is
to pick up snacks at the government-run grocery store.
Not a simple task. First, we wait in line to get in. Then, I
must leave my book bag in a check room. Next, we
browse the limited stock of cheese and crackers. No
express lane for our six items. We hang tight when the
checkout’s at a standstill. At the exit door, a guard
matches the contents of our bag with the receipt. Can’t
forget my book bag. Total time invested – 45minutes.
Rain crowds us under the alcove in the city’s center
for the National Union of Writers and Artists of Cuba
(UNEAC.) As often happens on this trip, I’m in the
presence of literary giants. Poets, historians and fiction
writers read their work. I share a haiku verse. Most
familiar are the struggles of a woman who explains her
two-year effort to publish a novel for teens.
Tonight there’s no music in the bandstand in
Parque Marti, and rain cancels our sunset walk along
the Malecón, the street by the bay. Fortunately, one of
my new friends wrangles us a taxi ride in a well-worn
red 1950s Chevy. There are no seat belts, and I’m not
sure the window rolls up, but the smiling driver delivers
OPPOSITE PAGE
(from the top)
The one-of-a-kind, perfectly
preserved Spanish colonial architecture of
Trinidad; the battle scarred but culturally vital
city of Matanzas; a statue of Ché Guevera
looks over the gritty city of Santa Clara.
...RAIN CANCELS OUR
SUNSET WALK ALONG
THE MALECÓN, THE
STREET BY THE BAY.
FORTUNATELY, ONE OF MY
NEW FRIENDS WRANGLES
US A TAXI RIDE IN A WELL-
WORN RED 1950S CHEVY.
52
THE AFFLUENT TRAVELER
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Feature Story
FEATURE STORY
FS
Photo Credit:
©anzeletti / istock.com
