Moustache - STALIN HAD ONE BUT THEN SO DID GANDHI.

La Paz is in southern part of the of Baja California Peninsula. This is the second longest peninsula on earth, next to the Malay Peninsula, measuring 1,247km, from north to south with 4,000km of coastline.

It starts at the US border, with the Pacific Ocean on the west coast and the Gulf of California, or Sea of Cortéz, on the east.

The first day in La Paz was spent walking around the township. It was very quiet and most people seemed to be inside or eating at the many restaurants dotted along the Malecón. This seaside promenade is about 5km long with an array of aquatic themed sculptures.

My favourite was of an old man in a paper boat, titled ‘El Viejo y el mar’ by Guillermo Gomez.

Our hotel was the Mediterrane and again in a great location. From our balcony we had a wonderful view, over the Malecón to the beach and marina.

There was a wedding in progress at Catedral de Nuestra Señora del Pilar de la Paz. Outside the church were the giant letters ‘A&J’. We can only assume that these were the couple’s initials.

Come Saturday night and La Paz had livened up. The streets were crowded, but no where near as busy as the main boulevard, which was bumper to bumper with cruising cars and pick-up trucks.

They were a diverse group, some with music blaring, through open windows, while others had their windows wound up tight, keeping cool in their air conditioned comfort.

The food in La Paz was very cosmopolitan with a slight Mexican influence.

The beers in Mérida and La Paz were outstanding. I awarded five stars to Patito Draught in Merida and Baja Blond in La Paz.

The craft brewing industry is growing in Mexico, as it appears to be wherever we go

We hired a car for a couple of days to get a feeling of the surrounding countryside. Our first trip was south on a Highway 1.

El Triunfo was the first mining centre of the peninsula. Silver was mined there in 1751 and the town flourished. Once the minerals dried up these mountain towns lost their importance and were reduced to a Main Street and not much more.

One legacy of the towns wealth is the Church of Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe de El Triunfo.

The country was rugged with many large cacti shooting up from the parched earth. The valleys were scarred with wide, dry riverbeds strewn with boulders.

After passing through the mountains we headed for the coast.

The mountain road twisted and turned, then suddenly we were looking at the Sea of Cortez. Due to the haze, it was only distinguishable as a slightly darker blue tone against the lighter blue sky.

Most of the  shoreline was occupied by private housing, that seems to go right to the water’s edge.

We did find Buenvista, a resort town that had some sort of urban centre.

I am sure that this coast is home to many small fishing villages. With all but the major roads being dirt, we weren’t willing to take the tiny Hyundai off-road. It’s no wonder the locals all have 4X4 pick-ups.

Our second day with the car we again headed out of La Paz, this time to the south west and the Pacific Ocean.

On Highway 16 is Todos Santos, which is close to the coast but not on it. It’s home to The Hotel California. Unfortunately this isn’t the hotel immortalised in the song by the Eagles. The song is just an allegory and there was no real hotel. However this doesn’t stop the management alluding to the fact that it’s the real McCoy.

Game fishing is a big tourist attraction in Baja California Sur. It’s also dwindling, as every fish caught means less fish to catch. I was interested to read an article in the local English language, and aptly named, ‘Gringo Gazette’ about a unique idea to solve the problem.

It’s called Plastic Taxidermy.

Rather than kill and stuff the catch, to become a trophy above some rich guys mantle piece, a plastic replica is made.

As the article pointed out, who would really know the difference – apart from the fish that is.

Just south of Todos Santos, at 23° 26′ 22″ N, is the Tropic of Cancer, it was here that we finally found the Pacific Ocean, at El Pescadero.

It wasn’t that spectacular but it was the Pacific, and we hadn’t seen it for some time.

Even this coastline is dominated by condominiums, hotels and private mansions. Again only reachable by dirt road.

Fortunately the little Hyundai managed it with ease.

We flew from Guanajuato to Cancún, the start of our tour of the Yucatán Peninsula.

Cancún. 

Rather than pay for a taxi we opted for the shuttle bus, this meant we were taken the long way to our hotel, through the Zona Hotelera. It was dark so we had no idea what was there.

Our hotel was in the residential part of Cancún, where there are only smaller hotels and not resorts. This area mainly caters to Mexican tourists.

We had a long walk from near the Ado Bus Station, via Mercado 23, and then down Avenue Tulúm to the Ibis Hotel.

Here we picked up a hire car, this would be our transport for the next week.

If was late in the afternoon so we drove around the Hotel Zone just to get a feeing of what it was like in daylight.

This is about 22.5km of hotels, condominiums and resorts. These are on a thin ribbon of land, with the Caribbean Sea on one side and the Laguna Nichupè on the other.

All the accommodation stretches along the Caribbean while the facilities face the lagoon.

In a way I was glad we were staying in the more authentic, Mexican, part of Cancún.

Tulúm.

Finding Tulúm was easy, finding our hotel wasn’t.

After roaming the streets and following the directions of both Google Maps and Triposo, we gave up and asked another hotel for directions.

When we did find it, our accommodation was more B&B than hotel and on the very edge of Tulúm. Almost surrounded by jungle there was a large variety of birds, but one stood out. It was the size of a wattle bird with a shinny black chest, a teal blue and back tail and some, I’m guessing the male, have a bright yellow beak.

Tulúm Ruins was originally a walled city of the Mayan culture and an important center of worship for the so-called ‘diving god’.

Built in post-Classic period, between 1200 and 1521 AD, the city was known as Zama or Dawn, as it faces east.

This is a small site set on the shores of Caribbean and witness to the rising sun.

We tried to get there reasonably early, but we weren’t early enough, as the tour buses had already arrived.

It was even more packed when we left, two hours later.

In the afternoon we drove out of the city to the Cenote dos Ojos. Cenotes are an underground system of flooded caves, this particular one extends for over 97km.

It’s a favourite spot for divers – we just had a swim.

We then drove south of Tulúm to Sian Ka’an, a long stretch of jungle with beaches and hotels.

At the end of the road we discovered a bridge, a favourite fishing spot for the locals with a sun baking area for the Crocodiles close by.

On the way from Tulúm to Piste we stopped to visit the Cobà Ruins.

These are quite old, being developed between 600 to 800 AD and reaching their peak in 1100AD.

They are in a jungle setting and everywhere you go you can see piles of rocks emerging from the undergrowth.

Nohoch Mul is by far the largest and the one everyone has to climb. Your efforts are rewarded with an excellent view of the jungle and the lake.

The Cobà Ruins are spread over a large area, about 70 square kilometres, much of which are yet to be unearthed. To see them you can hire a bike, take a chauffeur peddled tricycle or walk.

We walked, and after about 3.5 hours, each of the many sites became indistinguishable from the last.

It was time to move on to our next destination, which was Pisté, a small village very close to Chichén Itzá.

Piste and Chichén Itzá. 

We were at the gates at opening time for this World Heritage Site. Primarily to beat the heat but also the crowds and the touts.

It was a good move.

By the time we left it was hot and crowded.

Chichén Itzá was one of the largest and most culturally diverse of the Mayan cities, spanning a period between 800 and 1,200 AD.

It also has a great architectural variation, due to the span of time.

By far the most spectacular structure is El Castillo. This pyramid is primarily a 25 m high Mayan calendar of beautiful proportions.

The Mayans were a brutal race with human sacrifice their main form of entertainment.

The other site that intrigued me was Gran Juego de Pelota or the Great Ball Court. This is the largest ball court in Mexico and the place where the ‘big games’ were held.

A bit like the MCG.

The difference here is that the games often featured human sacrifice, usually the captain of the defeated side.

This would have been a real incentive not to lose.

The Ballgame in Mesoamerica dates back as far as 1,400BC. The ball was made of solid rubber and could weight up to 4kg. There were many variations to the rules but the players struck the ball with their hips, chests and arms and the objective was to keep it in the air.

The stone ball court and circular goal was a later addition.

After a number of hours wandering around the ruins in the heat we returned to our hotel.

We sat out in the rather pleasant garden, next to the pool, and enjoyed the shade of the mango trees. This proved to be rather dangerous, as the mangos would occasionally fall.

It was Easter and Mexico moved their clocks forward for Summer Time. This is the third time change we have had in the Yucatán Peninsula. The Cancún area operates on Central American time while the rest of Mexico has at least three other time zones.

Mérida.

This is the capital city of the state of Yucatán.

Approximately 60% of the population are of Mayan origins.

This is evident, not only in the people but in the craft and street performers. This is despite the fact that the Spaniards tried their darnedest to wipe them out.

We checked in to our hotel early in the afternoon and decided to head to the closest beach, Progreso, about 30 km north.

Mérida was very quiet, which is understandable, considering it was a Sunday. When we reached Progreso we realised why – they were all there, on the beach.

Our hotel in Mérida was in total contrast the one we had just left in Piste.

The Hotel Chichén Itzá, in Piste, was set in gardens with a pool and full of families. While the Gran Hotel in Mérida was more like a colonial museum. Built around a large internal court yard, there were three floors of timber, columns and tiled floors, all full of antique furniture.

It’s full name is El Legendario Gran Hotel. Built in 1901, I think it’s halcyon days were some years back.

Despite being a little frayed around the edges the hotel’s location couldn’t be faulted, being right on Calle 60 in the heart of the old city and facing the Parque de la Madre.

We drove a little way out of town to El Gran Museo del Mundo Maya de Mèrida. The museum building is a new complex, only completed in 2012, with contemporary architecture and state-of-the-art facilities.

The first part of the exhibition was about the Chicxulub crater, found in the Yucatán Peninsula. It is believed to be caused by the meteorite that resulted in the extinction of the dinosaurs during the Cretaceous Period.

The rest of the museum was dedicated to a celebration of the Mayans.

More than 3,000 years old the Mayan culture is still alive, if not a little changed by history. And with nearly six million Mayans in Mexico I think it will continue to survive.

Plaza Grande is the heart of Mérida with the the Mérida Cathedral, Catedral de San Ildefonso, dominating one end. Built between 1561 and 1598, with stone from a Mayan temple, it has an austere facade and daunting interior.

The public buildings around the Plaza Grande are like a living museum. They have a been restored and are now open to the public, for free.

We went to take the double-decker, Hop-on Hop-off bus that’s based in the square, but they didn’t have an English guide. So we walked a few blocks to Parque Santa Lucia and hopped on a bus that did.

This was in a converted 1972 Dodge, with open sides, slatted timber seats and the original shock absorbers.

The tour was excellent, if not a little hard on the backside.

Palacio de Gobierno is another of the free public buildings. It has a series of giant murals by Fernando Castro Pacheco (1918-2013), depicting the emancipation of the Mayan people.

The Mayan legacy and their integration into modern Mexican society is a constant theme that is everywhere in Mérida. They are a happy people and we were being constantly approached on the street. Yes, they wanted to sell their wares but they were equally interested in us and where we came from. They also go to great pains to tell their story.

The women, especially the older ones, still wear the traditional dress. This is white with colourful embroidery. The men wear western clothes, with many opting for the baseball cap rather than the Jipi or Panama hat, made from a palm-like fibre.

In contrast to the history of Mérida we took a day trip to Celestún to see the flamingos.

The town of Celestún, and the adjoining 600 square km, Parque Natural del Flamenco Mexicano, is west of Mérida.

The ecosystem is unique with salt water from the Gulf of Mexico and fresh water from the estuary.

There is an abundance of wildlife there, especially birds.

As the park’s name suggests, there were plenty of flamingos.

On the way to Celestún we stopped at the small town of Umán. They have a daily fruit, veg and meat market, complete with a resident DJ.

The local church, San Francisco de Assís is just over the road from the market. This, like so many others, was probably built over an existing Mayan temple. It was common practice to use the old materials as the basis for the new structure.

It’s a ancient strategy of newer regimes, wanting to exert influence and power over older cultures.

Our driver and guide was Mayan and he gave us a good insight into Mayan life.

Hammocks are sold on the streets by many vendors but we learnt that they are the preferred mode of sleeping for the Mayans.

The Ceiba tree, part of the kapok family, is known by the Mayans as the Tree of Life. The tree figures an important part in the mythologies of pre-Columbian Mesoamerican cultures.

Romance is an important part of the Mayan culture. This can be seen in their art, music, festivals and even Mérida’s street furniture.

‘Love chairs’ are dotted around public places, especially the parks.

On our last afternoon we just wandered around the old town and did some people watching and a little bit of sightseeing.

One was the Casa de Cultura Banamex Museo Casa Montejo.

This is a restored and decorated house of the Montejo family and another free activity, in the main square of Mérida. Within the house was also an exhibition of contemporary Mayan pottery, mixed with 14th century classical works.

The Banamex bank are sponsors. They are very good corporate citizens and support art and culture throughout Mexico. We had seen a similar exhibition in Mexico City.

There is also their commercial side with a gift shop and ATM on site.

We spent five night in Mérida, which wasn’t hard to do.

Life there is easy going and relaxing – we also needed time to do some forward planning.

It was a 5 hour 20 minute journey to Guanajuato, from Mexico City, on the ETN. This is one of the luxury coach services that operate throughout Mexico.

Air conditioned with reclining seats and a personalised audio and video system for each passenger.

This offers you more room and comfort than most airlines, if not a little slower.

Guanajuato was declared a World Heritage Site in 1988.

It has built its fame and fortune on mining, an industry that was well developed before the Spaniards found gold there in 1540.

In the 18th century it was one of the richest cities in the world and a great source of wealth for the Spanish crown.

The city is built in a mountainous area with coloured houses climbing up the hill from the old colonial area.

We arrived just in time for the Baile de las Flores or Dance of the Flowers. This festivals is held just prior to Easter and appears to be an excuse for the locals to let off steam. The streets around the historical centre, Jardín de la Unión, were crowded with family groups, teenagers and mariachi bands.

The next day we visited the Mummies of Guanajuato. The museum houses a number of naturally mummified bodies that were buried following a cholera outbreak around Guanajuato in 1833. There are also some more recently discovered bodies on display.

It’s a gruesome display which is made even more bizarre by the broken mirrors in every room.

Because of the steep terrain surrounding Guanajuato, flooding has always been a problem. In 1760 and 1780 floods nearly destroyed the city and as a result a series of tunnels and ditches were built. Today they have been converted into roads and footpaths, through which you can traverse the city like a subterranean mole.

That afternoon we returned to Jardín de la Unión and it was almost as crowded as the previous evening.

However there weren’t nearly as many mariachi bands – they must have been resting up for their night time performances.

We went to the tourist office just next to the gardens. Surprisingly the woman in the booth only spoke Spanish. This was rather strange considering that Guanajuato is one of the most popular destinations in Mexico, if not the world.

The lack of English was a theme that we continued to find in Guanajuato.

Our limited Spanish was put to the test.

Perched high above the city is a 28 metre tall statue of a local hero, Juan José de los Reyes Martínez Amaro (1782–1863) also known as El Píplia. On September 28, 1810 this brave miner strapped a long, flat stone to his back, to shield him from the Spanish muskets, and proceeded to burn down the door of the grain store in Guanajuato. This was at the very start of the Mexican War of Independence against Spain.

We took the funicular up to see El Píplia and walked down. The view from the top gives you a wonderful appreciation of the city layout and major attractions.

Don Quijote seems to be the unofficial patron saint of Guanajuato, as there are statues and memorials to him everywhere. This probably has something to do with the Cervantino Festival, held every October and named after the author, Miguel Cervantes.

In the evening we walked back into the main square to find some dinner. On the way we discovered a exhibition of local products, all displaying the Guanajuato GTO logo. This is an initiative to promote and sell quality good produced in the region.

Through the hotel, and at their suggestion, we had booked a day trip to San Miguel de Allende and Dolores Hidalgo.

The day started with a real kerfuffle.

We had been promised, on two occasions, that there would be an English speaking guide on the tour.

Once our guide started talking, he didn’t draw breath for ten minutes – all the time in Spanish.

It was then that we realised there was no English speaking guide.

After our pleading and a lot of debate between the staff and a frantic phone call, they found a guide to accompany us. This was going to be a long day visiting a number of different places and we didn’t want to spend it all in a communication black hole.

Jaimi turned up to be our guide and after some negotiations and the payment of an extra fee, we were on our way.

There were eleven ‘tourists’ and four staff all crammed into a Ford E350 Van. This of course included our personal guide, who sat in the back seat with us.

We very soon discovered that we were on a Mexican pilgrimage, visiting the places and remembering the people that the locals hold dear to their hearts. It’s no wonder there was no English guide.

The tour was mixed with liberal doses of ‘opportunities to buy’

Our first stop to shop was a silver jewelry showroom, where our hands stayed firmly in our pockets. Then it was on to the marmalade factory, Conservas Santa Rosa. Here they made all sorts of preserves even one from cactus.

Finally it was time for sight seeing.

José Alfredo Jimínez 1926-1973 was a very popular singer-songwriter who changed the Ranchera genre (traditional Mexican music). There is a grandiose memorial dedicated in his honour at the Dolores Hidalgo Cemetery.

Alfredo had no formal training, yet he wrote over 1,000 songs, many of which became hits and were covered by renowned artists, world wide.

Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla was the extraordinary priest who started the revolution, against Spanish domination, in 1810 at Dolores Hidalgo.

He was not only amazing for the way he fought for the rights of the indigenous population but for the way he openly flaunted the Catholic Church. Part of the museum, that’s dedicated to him, proudly displays his family tree. He was a father to his flock in more ways than one, having dalliances with at least two different women and creating a lineage that still survives today.

Next was the Jimínez Museum, that traced the rise to fame of the other of Dolores Hidalgo’s favourite sons.

We were bouncing between history and pop culture.

We then had yet another opportunity to buy, at a Lungar Ceramic Showroom, before driving to San Miguel de Allende.

This was our lunch break, at 4pm.

This is a Spanish colonial town and a UNESCO site. It’s also home to a large number North American and European retirees who have had the effect of inflating the property and restaurant prices.

It it however is a delightful town with yet another charming central square surrounded by classic post Columbian architecture.

Jaimi was prolific with Facebook and had images and videos up before the tour had ended. As he never ‘friended’ me I have no idea what he posted.

As we wandered around on our last morning I got the feeling that Guanajuato is more a tourist destination for Mexicans rather than broader travelling community.

That made it even more interesting.

Paseo de la Reforma is the main boulevard of Mexico City. It was designed by Ferdinand von Rosensweig in the 1860s and modeled on the grand boulevards of Europe.

There are dozens of small statues of famous Mexicans, lining the Reforma, that’s apart from the major ones that are at every intersection.

La Reforma was originally full of stately homes but most of these have now been replaced by chrome and glass office towers.

There is a Starbucks on every corner and shoeshine stands every 50m. The Starbucks are particularly good for a cheap breakfast and free WiFi.

Unfortunately their coffee isn’t that great.

One Saturday a month and every Sunday La Reforma is turned over to the people. Our hotel was situated in a central position on this expansive boulevard, so this gave us great walking opportunities.

On our first afternoon we took the Hop-on Hop-off bus around the city. We were told that our ticket, a tag around our wrist, was valid for 24 hours, but when we turned up the next morning, that wasn’t the case.

This was Sunday so we walked, with what seemed like the rest of Mexico City, in a south westerly direction, passing many of the famous monuments along the way.

The Angel of Independence or El Ángel was built in 1910 to commemorate the centennial of Mexico’s War of Independence and is also a mausoleum for their most famous heroes. A couple of blocks away is the monument to Cuauhtémoc, the last of the Aztecs. He was the Mexica ruler of Teotihuacán from 1520 to 1521 and was executed in Honduras by Cortés in 1525.

Another interesting monument is of The Northern Star Shooter or Diana the Huntress as she has become know. As part of a city beautification program in 1942, the statue was designed by the architect Vicente Mendiola and sculpted by Juan Olaguíbel.

The body of Diana leaves nothing to the imagination and there was a movement that felt she was just too provocative. Juan Olaguíbel was forced to weld bronze undies on, to hide her modesty. However he was forward thinking enough to only weld them in three spots, making them very easy to remove, when tastes became more liberal.

In the afternoon we spent a very pleasant few hours at the Anthropological Museum. This is probably one of the best museums I have ever visited. Beautiful wood carvings are used to demonstrate the change in human forms over the centuries and detailed dioramas add to the story.

Both archaeological and anthropological artifacts from the pre-Columbian heritage of Mexico are featured.

Designed in 1964 by Pedro Ramírez Vázquez, Jorge Campuzano and Rafael Mijares, it’s built as a large open square. The layout was intuitive with each area leading to the next in a seamless way. The interior blended with the garden to give the viewer an extra historical dimension.

The Teotihuacán exhibition gave us an insight into what we were going to visit later in our stay.

As with many cultures, Mexico City was built on the ruins of an older civilisation. The museum was once a Mexica or Aztec temple site.

We walked back to the hotel and Paseo de la Reforma was back to its congested self -the city was preparing for the start of a new week.

The next morning, again following the Paseo de la Reforma, we wended our way into the central part of Mexico City, passing yet more monuments. The Christopher Columbus Monument, erected in 1876, with Colón pointing the way, yet again. The Horse’s Head by Sebastian in front of the Torre del Caballito and the Triumphal Arch or Monument to the Revolution.

We wandered through the Juárez Gardens to the Benito Juárez Monument and then on to the Church of San Francisco.

Palacio de Bellas Artes was designed in 1904 but only completed in 1934 after years of stop start construction. This is a focal point in Mexico City, situated on the Alameda Central Park and overshadowed by the Torre Latinoamericana or Latin-American Tower. Built in 1956 it was the first skyscraper to be built on a major seismic fault line. It survived the devastating magnitude 8.0 Mexico City earthquake of 1985.

La Zócalo or Plaza Mayor is in the heart of the historic centre of Mexico City. La Zócalo which means plinth, was the main ceremonial center in the Aztec city of Tenochtitlan. It has been the heart of the city for over 700 years and is close to the place that the Aztecs regarded as the centre of the universe.

It’s also known as Constitution Square, but this name is  rarely used.

Close by is the Palace of Culture housing the Banco Nacional de México Exhibition. Which features a brief history of art since the 18th Century.

The ‘Metropolitan Cathedral of the Assumption of the Most Blessed Virgin Mary into Heaven’ (Try saying that after a few Coronas) is the largest cathedral in the Americas and again situated on the site of a former Aztec sacred site. It was built in sections from 1573 to 1813.

The twenty-fourth James Bond film, Spectre, was being shot in Mexico City. So, much to the dismay of some of the locals, La Zócalo was closed. There was also a constant beat of helicopter blades overhead, as some of the sequences were being shot.

I never did see Daniel Craig.

There are 24 million people and 15 million vehicles in Greater Mexico City. It’s a mega city with a severe pollution problem, however much has been and is being done to reduce the carbon monoxide levels.

Many of the houses are painted in bright colours. This isn’t so much for aesthetics but to indicate to the local authorities that the house has been built legally and taxes have been paid. Apparently there is a real problem with people building houses wherever they find a spare block – even if they don’t own it.

We decided to take an organised tour to Teotihuacán, a Pre-Columbian city that’s about 48km from Mexico City.

Firstly we went to Plaza de les Tres Culturas, an archeological site very near the centre of this city. This was discovered when excavating for the Metro in 1966 for the Olympic Games.

Santiago de Tlatelolco is the Catholic Church that is built over the site with stone from the Aztec ruins between 1604 and 1610.

From the city we droves for forty minutes out to Teotihuacán.

Then we had an ‘opportunity to buy’ that was disguised as an ‘open bar’ or opportunity to try the local tequila.

This was immediately followed by a lunch break.

By the time we had finished these pre-sightseeing diversions the clouds had rolled in and the good light was gone.

We climbed the Temple of the Moon first, then walked along the Road of the Dead to the Temple of the Sun.

The Moon Temple was 40m high and the Sun was 65m.

Strangely the Sun was easier to climb than the Moon.

From the the top of the Sun Temple we could see thunderstorms over Mexico City.

It was then back to the car park, but the bus was 25 minutes late in returning to collect is. Fortunately the rain started just after it arrived.

Our last stop for the day was to the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe. As I have mentioned before this is a brilliant piece of 16th Century marketing and spin by the Spanish clergy.

In 1531 a Mexica native, Juan Diego, has a vision of the Virgin Mary, who asks him to build a church on the site where he was standing. Juan goes to the archbishop of Mexico City and tells him what has transpired. The archbishop wants more proof so he asks him to go back and ask ‘the lady’ for a miracle to prove her bona fides.

The resulting miracle is the image of the Virgin of Guadelupe on Juan’s tilma or cloak which now hangs in the basilica.

The tilma is Mexico’s most popular cultural symbol and the basilica is one of the most visited sacred sites in the world.

Call me cynical but what a clever way to involve the Aztecs Indians in the new faith of the Spanish, just 12 years after Hernán Cortés conquered them.

Our final day was devoted to two of Mexico’s most famous artists, Freda Kahlo and Diego Rivera, who were also married on several occasions.

Our first stop was the Museo Mural Diego Rivera. This houses the mural, ‘Sueño de una tarde dominical en la Alameda Central’ or Dream of a Sunday afternoon in the Alameda Central, which was commissioned for the Hotel del Prado in 1947. The hotel was destroyed by the earthquake of 1985, but the mural survived.

We then went to the Frida Kahlo Museum or La Casa Azul. This is, as the name suggests, more of a museum than an exhibition of her work. There are many personal items like clothing and a collection of Indian artifacts that are all set in a beautiful walled garden.

Frida Kahlo is revered in Mexico City and her work is seen everywhere, especially on souvenirs.

I would have liked to have seen more of her work, that wasn’t on ash trays, tea towels or T-shirts.

We flew into Puerto Vallarta from Mexico City in the afternoon and were met by Ev and Steph.

At the airport we hired a car and drove the 25 km north to Sayulita, a small beach resort. It’s a hectic place full of Mexicans, Gringos (mainly from the US) and dogs. The place is also crowded with bars, restaurants and souvenir shops.

In the late in the afternoon, once we settled into our AirBnB, we went for a walk around the town.

Our bungalow was next to the Arroyo, a small river that runs down to the beach. The beach was as crowded as the town, again with bars, restaurants and dogs.

There is a reasonable beach break so the surfing and stand up paddle boarding culture is very strong in the area.

There was a stream of surfers, with their boards, continually filing past our house.

The area is situated on the Bay of Banderas, which in 1530 was named by Nuño Beltrán de Guzmán. This was because the local natives, the semi-nomadic Cuyuteco people, carried brightly coloured banners into battle.

The next day we drove further up the coast to San Francisco, a smaller seaside town. There were pelicans diving for fish along the shoreline. These are not the large white ones we have in Australia but much smaller and predominately brown and white.

We walked around town where there were lots of hippies and old Volkswagens.

This was a Mexican Ninbin or Byron Bay.

The image of Our lady of Guadalupe, the Mexican Virgin, is featured in the shopping street and on private houses. The story behind the miracles that created the legend of the native American, Juan Diego in 1531, is a curious one. It was instrumental in the conversion to Catholicism of the native Americans. It was also a rallying point for Mexicans against the rule of Spain in the 19th century.

Los de Marcos is a little further north and even quieter. Again the pelicans were there.

We had the hire car so went in search of a secluded beach. We found it at Litibu, which is south of Sayulita. It’s not really a town at all but few houses and some resort style accommodation. We spent a pleasant afternoon on the beach. Evan and I took some snaps while Thea and Steph just relaxed.

We then drove even further south to Punta de Mita for lunch. This is a series of beach side restaurants with more touts per square meter than I have ever seen.

They weren’t annoying but there was a constant stream coming through the restaurant. They were selling jewelry, bags, hats and even food. Which I felt was rather strange in a restaurant.

On our last day we took a trip to the Island of Las Marietas, a nature reserve just off the coast from Punta de Mita.

This the home and breeding ground of the endangered Blue-footed Booby. It’s also a UNESCO protected area so there was no walking around.

Our excursion of snorkelling and whale watching was on a small fibre glass boat with five others, all American women. Unfortunately the whale watching season was almost over so there were only a few Humpbacks around.

This is the breeding season for the whales so there were several cows with their calfs.

Our snorkelling was limited by the floatations device we were forced to wear.

We have been snorkelling in a number of places around the world and this was the most strictly controlled I have ever come across.

The fish were scarce but there was a good variety.

We are spoilt having the Great Barrier Reef on our doorstep.

It’s 270km from Camagüey to Santiago de Cuba – it seemed a lot longer.

To start with the bus was late and then the air conditioning broke down.

The ingenuity of the Cubans came to the fore yet again. Not only did they carry spare parts in the bus but the driver and co driver were able to carry out the repairs.

As it turned out we were only 55 late minutes in leaving.

The vast plantations that we had seen in the western regions had given way to smaller market gardens interspersed between cattle, sheep and horse grazing.

The land seemed to be dryer, the properties poorer and the roads weren’t as good.

At some points we were reduced to a crawl as the driver negotiated potholes of ‘Uzbek proportions’

Then the land opened up again and we were back to cane fields and rice paddies, all under irrigation – probably fed by the Rio Cauto.

At the end of the long journey, the seats felt harder and the air-con was failing again.

We were picked up at the bus depot by a Mercedes Benz – it had seen far better days.

Our Casa was outside of the old town again, which was rather annoying. The family were pleasant and the room was very quiet.

A good nights sleep at last.

The area is the formally posh part of Santiago de Cuba, that was abandoned after Castro came to power. Just near our Casa was Avenue Manduley, a wide, tree lined boulevard with many magnificent old homes on large landscaped blocks.

There was a combination of styles ranging from Italianate to Grand Spanish Colonial.

One of these beautiful old mansions, Palacio de Pioneros, is now a development centre for gifted children.

As part of it their playground equipment there is an old MiG fighter.

Just off the main street the homes were more modest but still large and on freestanding blocks.

This area was having somewhat of a renaissance as many of the houses were being renovated.

The next day we made the long walk into the historical centre and just slowly walked around. The temperature was now in the thirties and we were looking for shade at every turn.

Plaza Dolores is a small square just outside of the old city area. It was our first cool drink spot for the day.

There were a few more.

There seemed to be a strange system of service, with water, coffee and ice cream all coming from different vendors, but brought to us by one person.

This would have something to do with the very erratic state of supply in Cuba.

I suspect our waitress made a commission on each sale.

Bacardi Rum was established Santiago de Cuba in 1862, where they made their very distinctive ‘white rum’. Here there is a very grand museum, in the original distillery, dedicated to the Bacardí family.

Facundo Bacadí Masó, the first Bacardí, was born in Sitges, near Barcelona in 1813 and died in Santiago de Cuba in 1886. Within those 73 years he laid the foundations for one of the world’s great rum brands and the world’s largest privately owned spirit companies.

Santiago de Cuba have their own version of Carnival and they have a small museum to celebrate this festival.

It’s a very humble exhibition with costumes of past winners, photos and other memorabilia.

There is a resident graphic artist whose main task is to design posters for the event.

These were all done ‘Old School’ – by hand, with paint and brush, on an easel.

There was not a computer in sight.

Parque Céspedes is the focal point of the old city and it’s surrounded by elegant buildings. Apart, that is, from the rather plain Banco Nacional de Cuba.

The Catedral de Nuestra Señora de la Asunción, sitting at one end of the park, is undergoing massive restorations so the exterior view was all that was available. We did however get a sneak preview of the interior works – this was of course for a small fee.

Opposite the Catedral are the municipal offices, Edificio del Antiguo Ayuntamiento.

Also on the square is the house that was built for for the first governor, Casa de Diego Velázquez. This is said to be the oldest house in Cuba.

We meandered down to the port area via the Tivoli, or old French quarter. It was near 5pm and closing time for the Museo de la Lucha Clandestina. This is a former police station that was attacked on November 30, 1956 as a diversion for the landing of Fidel and his group on the yacht Granma.

The port is a sad reflection of what must have been colonial times.

There was one small cruise ship and not much more.

We have seen abandoned tram tracks in Havana, Camagüey and now in Santiago de Cuba. What narrow minded forefathers would replace electric trams with diesel buses? Cuba is not alone as we have witnessed this in France and of course in Australia.

Santiago de Cuba is a city of touts.

For every one that approaches you, and there are many, and there are at least a dozen more waiting in the shadows planning their move. It’s a pity their enthusiasm doesn’t rub off onto the restaurant staff.

Service here is the worst we have seen and most staff just don’t seem to want to do their job. It’s no wonder they are jaded as they continually have to apologise for not having the essentials.

We returned to the Parque Céspedes in the late afternoon. There was a small band playing a variety of music and directed by a clarinet player who seemed to have little control over the group. After the music finished we went to the rooftop bar of the Hotel Casa Granda, that’s adjacent to the square. We got there early enough to get a table on the edge of the balcony, overlooking the park.

This was the place to be, as it was facing west and we enjoyed a cool drink as the cruise boat sailed into the sunset.

This is the hotel and bar that features in Graham Greene’s ‘Our Man in Havana’.

There is an extra charge of 2 CUCs but it’s worth it.

Our last day in Santiago de Cuba started with our Casa Particular owner telling us we were due to leave that morning, as he had our room booked for that night. This was an issue as we were booked to fly out the next morning and now found ourselves with nowhere to stay.

It took time and effort to find, and then book into a hotel. We were helped by the owners who were ever apologetic. It wasn’t their mistake, but that of the booking agent, who had failed us yet again.

We didn’t want to move to another Casa as we needed to leave very early the next day, so we booked into the Hotel las Américas. Here we got a bargain basement deal.

It’s no wonder as it was a very shabby, 1960s, government run hotel and just around the corner from here we had been staying.

Having paid for a cheap bed we walked down the road to the much grander Meliá Santiago de Cuba to use the last of our internet card and enjoy their more luxurious surroundings.

Then there was an earthquake.

It wasn’t very big and didn’t last long but it did prove, once and for all, that you should expect the unexpected in Cuba.

 

It’s 220km from Trinidad to Camagüey so we decided to take the Viazul bus and not a taxi.

This was done partly to save money and partly to experience Cuban public transport. But it was mainly a result of our agent, Yosvany, vanishing into thin air. After making initial contact in Havana he was to organise all the accommodation and arrange transport.

Suddenly the transport became our responsibility.

There is a rail line that runs from Havana to Santiago de Cuba but this  is notoriously unreliable with a timetable that is a mystery, even to the locals.

We left Trinidad on Highway 12 and headed east joining up with the CC (Carretera Central) near Sancti Spiritus.

The road over the central plain was in good condition, with mangos, bananas, sugar cane and peanuts growing along the way.

Our Yutong coach wasn’t as new as the ones used by Transtur but it was air conditioned to an arctic temperature and the seats were comfortable, if not a little on the nose with ingrained BO.

We arrived in the late afternoon and went straight to our Casa Particular.

It was a bit too far out of the centre for our liking, but the walk wouldn’t hurt us, especially after sitting on the bus for hours.

The walk back after dinner was a little more annoying

Camagüey is a labyrinth of winding streets intersected with small parks and squares.

The GPS on our Triposo App maps had been working perfectly until we arrived in Camagüey. Now it decided to quit – just when we needed it most.

There are different theories as to the origin of the town plan. One, that I like, is that it was deliberately made to be a maze in order to confuse the pirates who would often raid the city.

Whatever the reason it has resulted in a layout that leaves the town very disjointed.

Compared to Trinidad, Camagüey is light on for tourists. So much so that we were continually bumping into people who had been on the bus from Trinidad.

There are still the touts but they are less frequent and not nearly as persistent.

After booking our bus tickets to Santiago de Cuba, our final destination, we went wandering around the old town.

The first stop was the Parque Ignacio Agramonte and the Catedral de Nuestra Señora de la Candelaria.

Camagüey isn’t just sleepy, it’s gone into hibernation. The Museum of San Juan de Dios, in the square of the same name, was closed for repairs.

Winter is the height of the tourist season in Cuba, yet there is a reticence in Camagüey to embrace visitors.

This is Cuba’s third largest city and well and truly in a time warp.

I think it’s happy that way.

Cuba seems to operate on a much more open level of corruption than we have been used to. Apart from museum staff, who expect a fee beyond what you have paid for at the door, the police seem to get free drinks at the local bars.

One of Camagüey favourite sons is Dr Carlos J. Finlay who is famous for discovering the cause of Yellow Fever. His house is open for display and is also the centre for the local Red Cross.

Plaza de los Trabajadores in another of the countless squares with Inglesia de Nuestra Señora de la Soledad on one side and a number of banks and the radio station and convention centre on the other side.

Still walking and continually finding more hidden gems we came across Plaza del Carmen, with more street art in the small square than we had seen in all of Camagüey.

As it turned out Martha Jiménez was the artist responsible and her studio was right in the Plaza.

She is a local sculptor and painter who champions women’s rights.

For a city that is fast asleep, Martha is well and truly on the ball.

Our taxi driver from Santa Clara to Trinidad was Iuni.

He had very good English and drove an old white Peugeot.

He felt that Raul Castro was good for Cuba as he was concentrating on the economy and not politics, as his brother Fidel had done.

The newest vehicles on the Cuban roads are the Chinese made Yutong coaches. These are owned by the state run bus company, Transtur, and you see their blue, red and white livery everywhere.

As we drove south to Trinidad we passed several tobacco plantations. They were picking the green leaves which would then go into the warehouse to dry for three months.

Iuni gave us a choice of the route we could take.

We chose the mountain pass via Güinía de Miranda. He apologised for the condition of the road but it was only six kilometres of potholes then it was back to the relatively smooth roads.

The drive is just over 80km but it took 1hr 40m. It was a pleasant trip and Iuni was good company.

Trinidad was very different to sleepy Santa Clara, where tourists and touts were everywhere.

The Casa Histórico, centred around the Plaza Mayor, became a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1988. Now with more hotels and Casa Particulars becoming available, the tourists are flocking here.

The locals understand the value of the tourist Dollar, or CUC, and are very happy to have their snap taken – for a fee.

In fact there were three old amigos just sitting on a corner waiting for a photo opportunity.

They had big Cuban Cigars in their mouths, that weren’t lit and just there for show. They went to great lengths to get noticed. One them even had a chicken sitting on his hat.

There was another guy who was wandering around town trying to sell a giant gourd.

We saw him on several occasions.

Staff from museums and public buildings can sometimes ask you to pay an extra fee for something that you have already paid for when you entered.

You don’t realise how compact Trinidad is until you climb the tower of the Museo Histórico. The town nestles between the hills to the north east and the valley that runs away to the Caribbean in the south west.

With the town being so small you get the feeling that the tourists are the largest demographic.

And at particular times of the day and in certain places, they are.

After an hour or so of site seeing in the morning we spent the rest of the day just wandering around town.

The painted houses, old cars and local characters make photography a real adventure. It’s not until you get back to the room, and download the snaps, that you realise just how many you have taken.

The next day we went down to the Caribbean.

Playa Anćon is a beautiful stretch of white sandy beach situated on a long, narrow peninsula about fifteen kilometres south of Trinidad.

The ambient sound of lapping waves blended peacefully with a cacophony of chirping birds.

It’s a pity the facilities didn’t match the environment.

There was a beach restaurant with a simple yet limited menu but there was also the Anćon Hotel – a structure second only in ugliness to the Hotel Santa Clara Libre.

Sixties Soviet era architecture has a lot to answer for.

We returned to our casa in Trinidad where the temperature had climbed.

It was time for a siesta.

A siesta does sound so much better than a Nanna nap.

It’s about 62km from Cienfuegos to Santa Clara.

We again had Oscar as our taxi driver and this time he brought along his son, Oscar Louis, aged 15.

There was no school that day so he came along for the ride. He was studying English and hoped to go to university to become a doctor.

Well that was his father’s wish, I am not sure if it was Oscar Louis’s wish, as he didn’t say much.

There seems to be a strange system of supply and demand in Cuba.

There certainly isn’t an over supply of anything but many places only deal in small quantities of a few items.

We went to a couple of bars that only served cocktails and no beer. Another cafe that only had coffee and nothing else. Then there was the Mercado (supermarket) that had ample supplies of alcohol, shampoo, soap and detergent but no bottled water.

In 1689 Santa Clara was founded by nine families from the coastal city of San Juan de los Remedios. The main reason for the move was to get away from the notoriously ruthless pirates of the Caribbean.

Santa Clara is in the geographical centre of Cuba and well away from the coast and the likes of Captain Jack Sparrow and his motley crew.

Today Santa Clara is the centre of all things ‘Che’.

Like the other cities and towns in Cuba, Santa Clara is built around a park with grand colonial buildings on every side. Unfortunately Parque Vidal also has the excruciatingly ugly Hotel Santa Clara Libre, a town planning blunder of monumental proportions.

About two kilometres from the city centre is the rather large Che Guevara Mausoleum.

This houses the remains of Ernesto ‘Che’ Guevara and 29 of his fellow freedom fighters, killed in Bolivia in 1967.

Che Guevara played a pivotal role in fighting the Batista regime, especially the derailing of the freight train, carrying soldiers and ammunition, on December 23, 1958.

This was a turning point in the Castro brothers guerrilla war against the US backed Fulgencio Batista government.

There is a monument to celebrate this event, The Tren Blindado, that’s situated on the spot where the train was derailed.

Apart from becoming the universal symbol of rebellion, Ernest was also a doctor, diplomat and military strategist.

Above all he was a young man looking for a fight, and he wasn’t happy unless someone obliged him with a cause to fight for.

After his success in the Cuban revolution he took on a rather sedentary life as a government leader and diplomat for the Cuban Socialist Party.

This more sedate life in Cuba wasn’t to his liking so he travelled to Congo-Kinshasa and then Bolivia, where he was eventually caught and killed, apparently at the request of the CIA.

This had the effect of turning an angry young man into a social icon and martyr.

The CIA weren’t that bright.

I do wonder how Ernest Guevara balanced his life’s choices of being both a doctor and a soldier.

Che is treated like a god in Santa Clara, which has more to do with the Castro regime than a popular belief by the local population.

Getting into his mausoleum was harder, and more complicated, than visiting the tomb of Ho Chi Min in Vietnam.

And that wasn’t easy.

We returned to Parque Vidal in the evening, as this seemed to be the liveliest part of town.

There was a dozen or so young men and boys on rollerblades playing a type of tag. There were obviously rules to this game but I couldn’t work them out.

The next day we went in search of more Che Guevara history and testaments to his greatness.

Our first stop was the Tren Blindado, the famous train derailment monument. At the entrance stands the original bulldozer, that was used to tear up the tracks, ironically this is a US built Caterpillar. It sits on a pedestal, while nearby the train carriages house a museum.

Just down the road is a small and less grandiose statue of Che, Estatua Che y Niño. This depicts Che with a small child in his arms, which is covered with sub-sculptures that are full of symbolism and hidden meaning.

We walked the long way to Lomas del Capiro, which is on a hill just outside of the city. It’s yet another monument to the July 26th group and in particular to Santa Clara’s favourite son, Che.

It gives you a good view over the city, but again the the Hotel Santa Clara Libre stood out against the skyline, like a giant green antiseptic block, the type you see in urinals.

There is little to no signage to find Lomas del Capiro and we finished up walking around two hills to get there. It was in fact just around the corner from the Estatua Che y Niño.

Once we walked back to town we were hot and needed to get out of the sun. We found La Vegnita, a cigar and coffee bar, that serve an excellent espresso.

Just on the edge of the Parque Vidal is the Museo de Artes Decorativas. This is a very small museum, that’s been a little oversold by Lonely Planet who tell you that it’s, “…packed with period furniture from a whole gamut of styles…”

We later managed to track down a shop with internet and made contact with the outside world.

Santa Clara is a very sleepy town and in a day and a half we had just about seen it all. So late in the afternoon we headed back to Parque Vidal, just to do a little more people watching.

We weren’t alone as half the town was there as well.

There are a number of ways to travel around Cuba.

We initially chose to use taxis and our first trip out of Havana was to Cienfuegos.

Taxis sound expensive but they’re extremely cheap, especially considering the flexibility and the fact that we are solo travellers and therefore don’t want to be reliant on airline or bus schedules.

Also our agent in Cuba, Yosvany, said he could arrange everything at very reasonable prices.

Oscar was our taxi driver to Cienfuegos which is about 238km from Havana.

It was motorway most of the way, starting out with four wide lanes then reducing to three as we got into the country.

Two thirds of the way to Cienfuegos is a small town, of about 6,000 people, called Australia. This was said to have been Fidel Castro’s base of operations during the Bay of Pigs operation in 1961.

Oscar felt the roads were bad. I thought they were fine, especially compared to many we had been on.

Cuba must go down as a country with the hardest seats in the world. Most of the restaurant seats are metal or timber and none have cushions. It’s really hard to have a long, leisurly meal in most places.

In Cuba cars are divided into three distinct eras.

There’s the pre 1962 ‘Classico Americano’, the post 1962 Russian models that are mainly Ladas and the modern era with a predominance of Korean and Chinese makes and some Europeans.

We drove in all of them.

Cienfuegos has a decidedly Francophile feeling. The original immigrants were French, coming from New Orleans and Philadelphia in the US and Bordeaux in France in 1819.

Once we had settled into our Casa Particular, Hostel Damilsy, we went out to discover the area.

The city centres around Parque Jose Martí. This is a UNESCO Heritage site with a celebrated collection of colonial architecture.

We then went for a long walk along Paseo el Prado down to the Punta Gorda, a small recreational area at the end of the peninsula.

This is where the rich families of Cienfuegos built their mansions.

One rather grandiose, but crumbling, edifice was the Palacio de Valle, with it’s very Spanish come Moorish influences.

The following day, at the insistence of our host, we drove to El Nicho National Park. This was with Rafael, in his 33 year old Moskvitch. It had a Lada engine and gear box and one handle to wind the windows up and down – this was the air conditioning control.

The Moskvitch was Rafael’s pride and joy.

The horn was more of a whistle that had a variety of different tonal expressions. The most commonly used was the ‘cat call’, which was sounded whenever a pretty girl caught Rafael’s eye.

Which happened a lot.

The radio was permanently playing Salsa but was drowned out by the roar of the Lada motor as we struggled up some of the steeper gradients.

The road is notoriously full of twists and turns with mango, orange, pineapple, bananas and coffee growing on either side.

And of course there’s hundreds of acres of sugar cane as well.

We walked to the waterfall with Rafael constantly pointing out the local bird life. Either we were too slow or they were too fast, because I couldn’t get a snap of any of them.

Rafael sent us off to explore the top of the waterfall and the lookout that’s just near by.

There we were befriended by one of the local guides who took us off on a ‘secret path’ to the caves further up the mountain. He also pointed out the local flora and fauna and even found a small snake which he insisted that we all hold.

I took photos.

This was all at a cost of course, but it was worth it.

We then had our most traditional food so far, when we lunched at Rafael’s favourite local Casa Particular.

The place was a menagerie of dogs, cats, birds and one unidentifiable rodent in a cage.

It was then back around the bends and down the mountain to Cienfuegos.

We had dinner at the Cafe Cantante Benny Moré, which was very fitting, as he is one of Cienfuegos favourite sons.

In the 1950s he became known as the Prince of Mambo and with his 40 piece orchestra toured the Americas and even played at an Oscars ceremony in 1957.