Charlie and Steve's Excellent Adventure

November 5, 2014

While you were working – Up we go!

Before we set of on this adventure we were often asked what we were most looking forward to. My common reply was either Colombia or hiking in the Andes. Today both elements combine as we attempt to summit volcano Purace, will the relative disappointment of the former be carried on the grandeur of the latter? Today the dreams of a year will be dreamt in the first throes of slumber, a blank canvas of wonder awaits the morrow.

At 4760m altitude Volcan Purace is by no means breaking new grounds of human endurance: yet it’s also bloody high and well over 1000m higher than I’ve been before. I’ve never felt altitude effects before but my understanding is that it’s not fitness reliant, it either gets you or you get it. I’m not overly concerned about this height but the question remains, what if I’m just one of those people who aren’t good with altitude? We are spying other Volcanoes named Cotopaxi which is at 5897m and possibly Chimborazo which is at 6310m so this is a training run as well as an adventure itself.

Up at 4am, we get a bus out to a tiny town (literally three buildings) named Cruca de la Mina, and from here it’s up and up. Past the checkpoint and through the more welcoming lowlands terrain we go following yellow markings on our Hansel and Gretel-esque bread crumb path. Within the first hour we are wrapped in the comforting embrace that comes with mountains and altitude. The crisp air, the endless vistas and a grandness of space reserved for only those that venture upward. After a frantic travel schedule of late this tonic is the panacea for all ills, ghostly stress forms into welcomingly aching legs of far more tangible challenge.

It’s an essential element to hiking, this sense of escape, this ascendance beyond what you were before, the denouncement to worries to a place far below. Fittingly, it’s a space to think clearly, poetically and indeed with grandeur as your constant companion. Fittingly we spot our first Andean Condor, the biggest flighted bird in the world (wingspan over 3m, standing taller than most adult Equatorians mind you), and as the name suggests: can only be found in the Andes. Adding to the mystique, condors are endangered, hard to find at the best of times and only exist in the upper altitudes so sighting one of these beasts is an event symbiotic with a challenging hike. The bonus for today is that we see one from above, something we’ve never seen before and as always, this takes on the feeling of a good omen if ever there was one.

True to the balance that is so much of nature the dark side assails with equal elegance and aggression. some years ago we had travelled to Chile as which point we refined three rules of hiking in the Andes, the peak you see next is never the peak you think it is, you’re never at the top and it’s always further than you believe. From the very beginning we can see the scooped peak of Purace, not so much above, but distant, partly concealed by a second peak before it. At about an estimated half way we’re still tauntingly distant from the penultimate peak and the deities of the Andes are already waving their fingers in warning; disappointment begins to set in, it’s possible we wont reach the crater, the literary exclamation mark for any volcano ascent.

We set our sights on a small weather antenna topping that secondary peak, satisfied that will make for a successful day. Comfortingly though just reaching the top doesn’t seem to be beyond us, the 2:30 bus however just might be, we have to turn back by 11:30am. A final push, we will make the antenna, a mountains challenge can not be avoided, speed is the barrier set for us today, not altitude. We reach the antenna just after 10:30am, the push seemingly well worth it. And true to form the mountains deliver a trick we know all too well but have not been party to for so long, Purace summit is agonisingly close, close enough to reach, there’s no other peak between, no tricks at play, it’s our next step.

Disappointment banished, pain abated we literally yell out as we run across the shallow saddle before settling into the rhythmic counting that comes with difficult climbs. On a zig-zagging path a bent over breath batters down the aching after five left turns, just another 20 to go. It’s a monotony that collapses into a singular: left, right, left. right. The coin of achievability is wickedly flipped, hopes and disappointment tumble together as the clock ticks away.

It’s nearly a time for tears, a relatively flat plain for about 100m and the time is 11:10am. The excitement of running that gripped us before is there, sadly the legs are not, we’re gonna make it, but not celebratory run, just a satisfied stride befits this glorious walk.

There’s something special about a volcano. Nothing we’ve encountered typifies humility quite like it. At this point I’ll allow pictures to tell a story my words cannot. What I can attest to is a gratifying sense of victory; no not victory, you never ‘beat’ a volcano, but a sense of worth in being allowed to reach the top. A volcano always seems imbued with consciousness when you stand on the rim of its black crater. All here is deathly black, a lunar-scape that allows no life, just forlorn sorrow. A sulphur geyser hisses poisonous yellow/ green gas into the sky, a pallid scar of toxic white blister the only interruption to the blackness just to punctuate the inappropriateness of life.

Yes we stare down into all the nightmares religion concocts to impart abuse to children, hell sits so close below, we just never seem to think about it.

We take in the gift for just a few moments before we must return, always time for one last look. If the ascent was an epic romantic battle, the descent is a comical farce. We make good time so we decide to take what we heard was the “easier “detour via the road instead of the knee punishing bash downhill. Little did we know that the road does eventually go out as we more or less knew; what we didn’t know was that it went through the sulphur mine, not around it, shit! We walked for about an hour and a half, too far to turn back and we’re right on the edge of the processing centre of the sulphur mine.

At this point the consequences creep to mind, sulphur is poisonous, mines sometimes blow up the ground, are we trespassing, what is a Colombian gaol like anyway? It’s too late to turn back so we basically 007 it on the roads skirting the mine, jump a fence, rough track it a bit and we’re on the road the other side of the mine… simple as that. Well it seems so now but the process was not fun, we were very aware that we weren’t meant to be there, and the romantically forbidding nature of the volcano paralleled an all too unromantic version.

It was quite a detour so with timing running out we run the last part of the road to hit the town at 2:25pm. What a bloody day, Colombia as a destination is coming home with a wet sail.

Victory is declared!

November 3, 2014

While you were working – Colombian Coffee

After what can only be described as a shitful start to our time in Colombia we’re back to our more traditional travelling ethos of getting out of cities and it’s paying off. We’re off to climb a mountain today, so it’s up at 4:30 and meeting the bus on a cold lonely street at 5am. It’s nearly six before we decide to go back to bed seeing no hint of the bus; fuck you Colombia! It later turns out that the operator didn’t have at least four hikers so they just didn’t find it profitable. Funnily enough this is the exact scenario that I joke with my clients about at work. When a job is drastically deadline based I’ll often reply to a clients panicked follow up with “yeah, you know; I just didn’t think your job was that profitable so we kinda didn’t bother; that’s cool yeah”?… I think this is karma’s aptly tasteless joke, I deliver that line dripping with sarcasm but it’s actually happened to me.

So plan B it is then. We’d heard of a coffee plantation that is a nice setting and does coffee tours; desperate to make something of today, it’s off we go. In our cafes at home we often see advertised where beans come from which is interesting but does it really mean anything? Not to us I have to admit. We now know that Colombian coffee has a few distinct characteristics. Firstly Colombia appears to have a very manual harvesting process which is amazing given that it’s the fourth biggest producer in the world. Secondly Colombian coffee, for this reason, is known to be quite smooth and subtle. Barristers everywhere, feel free to contradict me, just going by what little I was told here in Colombia.

It has to be said that Hacienda Guayabal is a stark contrast to much of Colombia. I’ve been resisting being negative but there’s not a huge amount of style abound. There seems to be money, but it comes across like a classless cliche of tacky ‘new money’ with little appeal. On the other hand Guayabal has a combination of rustic and more grand buildings alongside a beautiful informal garden, the setting just feels great. As opposed to much of Colombia which is sadly a bit like a less polished mall; we exhale, this is more like what we were hoping to see from Colombia. We spy woodpeckers, toucans, vultures and hummingbirds in the wild, genuinely something to inspire.

Our tour is also a surprise, we go through the entire process from seed to cup, literally. We see stages of seedling propagation, planting and crop maintenance, the workers in action picking berries, farm management, classification, processing, drying, washing, roasting all the way through to making a true coffee and how to taste/ recognise characteristics properly. Wow, it’s bloody comprehensive. On the way in I had noted that coffee fields don’t quite have the romance of vineyards, this belief feels embarrassing already. At home we learn so much about wine making but all we know of coffee is what’s in the cup, this experience is truly that, an experience. With just this day I have a lot more confidence in what I feel I know along with an appreciation for what more there is to know, much more of the latter than the former.

So here’s a few interesting facts we learnt about coffee, as it works in Guayabal anyhow:
– Plants are cut back right to the base every 7 years for regeneration.
– Plants are only used for three cycles, i.e. 21 years.
– A mature plant (approx 2m tall) produces about 2000 good beans per year.
– A typical espresso requires 50 beans, yes just 40 cups per year.
– Beans with parasites or dried out beans are commonly used for instant coffee, ouch!
– Colombia exports nearly all ‘good’ beans (good meaning larger beans with intact skins that sink in water), very few premium ones are kept in Colombia.
– Under roasted beans are best for tasting as they expose more characteristics. Medium roasted are best for enjoying and over roasted are best for hiding dodgy beans. A quick smell comparison displays this amazingly.
– Basically no mass market coffee is not over roasted, from our smell test this seems about right too, ‘proper’ medium roasting is sadly a bit of an unfamiliar smell to us.

This day has left us hungry to learn more, now appreciating a huge amount more about our coffee, and showing how much we don’t know at all. Hopefully we will get to try a similar experience in another country to see a different perspective. What we got today was a blistering amount of passion about coffee, immense pride in Colombian quality and a genuine concern about the degradation of global coffee trends. Jorge is our guide and its his drive and intuitive grasp on matters of tact, taste, class and integrity set him and Guayabal apart from the ‘human’ Colombia we’ve seen so far. With heads spinning we leave feeling that Colombia is a premium producer sticking to manual quality production methods against a global trend of Starbucks price driven mass production rubbish.

There’s a trend appearing here that Colombia has a polarising presentation from a tourist point of view: Things that are human reliant and things that are natural assets. We’ve had very little positive experience with social aspects, but the natural world here is beautiful. Coffee is a good example, in a global coffee powerhouse, we have found pretty average coffee everywhere but the agriculture is simple and beautiful, it’s bizarre and sad. But we are only just now getting to some of what Colombia has to offer, lets hope we’ve turned a corner.

November 3, 2014

While you were working – Manizales, Colombia

With a great sigh of relief we exit Bogota, keen to step into the next phase of this trip; it’s kind of like flushing the toilet, that nastiness is all gone and we’re all alpine freshness now. It’s a bit of an arduous bus trip, 10 hours all up (only 309km mind you) before we finally get to Manizales, tired and hangry. We met up with a couple of Dutch fellas on the trip, Rob and Robert, so we do that travelling thing and head out blindly to find some food. The hunter gatherer instinct is in full swing here, the journey to find sustaining food is a primal urge that enters into our oh so very modern lives when travelling. We start off with lofty hopes, a big hearty hot soupy thing would be perfect, maybe even a nice pasta or a steak. However just like going out to the pub to ‘pick up’ we start with high hopes only to see desperation and the passing of time do nought but erode those high hopes to a more self esteem battering reality. As we metaphorically pretend to enjoy dancing to a modern remix of some ancient Kylie disaster watching our dignity catch a cab outside, the sad slide continues. We manage to avoid the food version of $2 rent boy (maccas) and settle on a grilled chicken place which is surprisingly ok, kind of the ‘ok you’ll do’ that turns out to be a fire-cracker in the sack.

Manizales reveals itself as a very picturesque town, set amongst precipitous peaks the tranquil urbanisation clings to the dramatic slopes and peaks like topping on roughly scooped ice cream. as refreshing as Manizales is the true grace, as usual, lies outside the city/ town centre. We take a day trip up to Rio Blanco, a biosphere nature reserve with a great biodiversity of plant and bird life, and at this stage we need some nature like a rugby prop needs a steak: and a big fat rare Argentinian flank steak we are delivered. We take in a nice short walk, watch on as a guide calls from the jungle a rare endemic ground bird, take in a birds eye view of Manizales and visit Chucho, the bear, yes a big black bear.

All this is fantastic in its own right and just the tonic for us, but the show is stolen by a trip to a hummingbird haven. For people at home this is sure to come off as all ‘nature freak’ but geez hummingbirds are the shit! And yes I’m very much an anti exclamation mark crusader but hummingbirds deserve it. We’ve managed to see them randomly at times but this is invariably at quite a distance and for a fleeting moment, they are a genuine ‘white whale’ for anyone that takes an appreciation to the natural world. But here…. we are on a house balcony decked out with a zillion fuchsias and other pendulous flowering flora as hummingbirds within an arms reach going about their business. It has to be said that they’re just about the coolest animals going around. We snap up photos and stare in awe at the movement, colours and above all the speed, we all know hummingbirds are fast but up this close it’s a new type of appreciation, a serious highlight. Here’s a few facts about hummingbirds before you all drift off to sleep or decide that there might be something incendiary on Facebook.

Hummingbirds:
– Are the only bird that can fly backwards (and upside down)
– Are only found in the America’s
– Wings beat at about 80 times a second
– There are 330 different types

At this point we also have to comment on Colombian driving, good contenders for the most aggressive and rude drivers anywhere, holy crap. Allow me to translate a few Colombian driving principles:
Road markings – A type of aesthetic decoration to notate the completion of a road surface.
Indicators – A feature of aesthetically conscious Japanese and European car manufacturer wankers to make a car look pretty.
Changing lanes – A macho contest to see who values the panels of their car less. The more you value your car the more you lose.
Other motorists – An opportunity for you to show your superiority as a road warrior.
A blind crest – A perfect opportunity to overtake an already speeding vehicle.
A blind corner – See above
Centre line markings – The more you drive on the opposite side the larger your testicles must be. Also a curious decoration that no one understands.
Double centre lines – A waste of paint, broken lines would be far more economical.
If someone is overtaking too slowly – Overtake them as well, driving into the shoulder of the opposite lane. On a blind corner gains additional macho points.
Pedestrians – Target practice

A horn can be used in the following instances:
– If someone about 100m ahead is in a space you might want to occupy.
– Signalling that you might want to make a lane choice soon so everyone should be prepared to move.
– In static traffic a horn can cause other motorists to levitate their cars and magically make space for you.
– To express the sad insignificance/ grand nature of your genitalia, same same really pending perspective.

Passing military personnel brandishing assault rifles due to the danger of simply being on southern Colombian roads we are pondering: is it more dangerous due to criminal activity or the nature of the driving? The jury is still deliberating.

November 1, 2014

While you were working – Dear Bogota

Dearest Bogota,

I regret to write this in a note, we really should say it face to face we know. Alas, we think a clean separation is the best thing for the both of us, yes we’re leaving you. Now don’t cry, it’s difficult for us too but we both know this was always going to be a short romance. As you know, since Mexico we’ve only been able to have fleeting rebounds, Havana was fun and we though the step back from his craziness might suit us. But as it turns out, and we hate to say this, you’re just a bit boring. You see we’re just not the ‘missionary position, fully clothed, under the sheets with the lights off’ kinda guys, you understand don’t you?

All we really wanted was a bit of excitement. We had heard people tell of your danger, your flare and colour but what you gave me was not Gloria from Modern Family, but more Estelle Getty from Golden Girls. Safe to say, your reputation precedes you, a little much we have to say. We know this may come as a shock to hear it but I believe you deserve the truth, please don’t hate us for it. And you could learn to cook a little, just saying. Is it too much to ask for a decent coffee in the morning, I mean you grow this stuff, and a meal that tastes like something other than styrofoam?

But we have to commend you on your cleanliness and order, you’re a pleasure to be with when it comes to getting things done. And you’re not without your highlights don’t get me wrong, we just need a little more pizzazz in our life right now. You’re the right guy to settle down with and get a dog, but that’s not us at the moment; yes, it’s us, not you. You’ll make someone a very content tweet sweater wearing accountant who’s into vintage cars, one day, but we are sorry to say that day is not now and that person is not us. And lets face it, a three way relationship wasn’t your thing from the beginning.

So it’s farewell from us to you Bogota. We’ve been getting sultry looks from that guy Ecuador all this time, I’m afraid it’s goodbye, we wish you all the best.

Much love,

Steve and Charlie

October 31, 2014

While you were working – Into Colombia

After a travel day from hell we touch down in Colombia. First impressions are strange as we are confronted not by the busy, lively and often rough around the edges Latin feel, this place seems super organised and clean. We breeze through immigration with German efficiency and leave the impeccably clean and polished airport a little bemused. We’re not sure we’re in the right city except for the first view of a television showing a person being drugged and kidnapped off the street: yep, we’re in Colombia!

But as we land in South America officially, we must make a historical note. There’s one particular name we haven’t been able to get away from thus far, Simon Bolivar. Statues grace every city, he’s credited with being possibly the most prominent leader in liberation from the Spanish along with a political dream to unite South America. Sculpted often in scholarly robes, he’s presented to be of unblemished character and so far seems to be one true constant to stability and clarity in a continental history teeming with unrest, bloodshed and brutality.

But this efficiency and cleanliness comes at a cost, Bogota feels like it’s lost its soul, it’s amazingly quite dull. A venture around the historical centre rings few aesthetic alarm bells and the up-market area is again bleached clean of any heart, polished chrome and pine veneer abound. Possibly it’s just a come down from being in Havana, I think that’s the city that manufactures ‘soul’ and exports to the world but we simply can’t get over this, Bogota is boring as batshit! One point to note is the drugs. Charlie comments in a hushed incriminating tone as we’re exploring “I’ve seen a shitload of people on drugs”…. Um… we’re in Colombia!

As much as I write it off, there are some redeeming features, the relatively clean and organised manner of it is a breeze to exist within, it facilitates laundry, haircuts and even our first home cooked meal, hurrah! On top of that there is the Museo de Oro (Gold museum) which is really quite awesome and Monserrate. Backdropping the city, mountain peaks rear up aggressively, creating quite a picturesque backdrop, the awe inspiring scene at odds with life in the shade of the range. Atop one of these peaks is Monserrate, a church; of course. The hour long walk up at some altitude of 3150m is a good lung buster and the view from the top is amazing. Bogota is a big city, ten million people and the sprawl goes on forever and ever. The surprising feature is that there are a couple of posh restaurants up here and amazing gardens. We spend the middle of the day soaking up the tranquility and chasing hummingbirds.

Ok so not much to say about Bogota but it isn’t all that bad, it’s just a matter of expectations; but either way, we’re still pretty keen to get outta here.

October 31, 2014

Top 10 – Cuba

A whirlwind visit (just seven days) sees us leaving Cuba behind not quite sure what has hit us. With heads still spinning, here’s our top ten for the country that needs to be in your top ten to visit as soon as possible.

10 – Cars:
Just making it into the top 10 are the cars but not just any cars. The vintage (pre-1959 revolution) cars throw back to a romantic time gone by placing you smack bang into a ‘Grease’ the musical time warp. When you get off the plane it’s the first thing that really stands out and it’s a crucial theme to Cuba’s fascinating recent history.

9 – Viñales:
As much as Havana is truly a wonder, every yin needs a yang: and we found that in Valle de Viñales. With great scenery, open spaces, horseback riding, caves and tobacco farms it proved to be the perfect balance. But not just a reflective tool, Viñales is genuinely a place of grace in its own right.

8 – No internet:
Not so much as a thing as a concept, having no internet is a phenomenon that is as intangible as it is influential. With not much imagination at all it’s easy to see how not having internet facilitates and enables much of this top ten to some degree or other. As a traveller it’s one of the truly unique and unexpected experiences that you tend to remember and value.

7 – Castro’s house:
It can be difficult in Havana to avoid the tourist trails and the Castro house/ building is one of the hidden treats. It goes with out saying that for many years not only Fidel but the entire Castro family called this building their home. It’s now a great local bar and restaurant and we were lucky to share our first visit here with a local named Carlos, probably the most genuine experience of our time in Havana.

6 – Rum and Cigars:
The essential experience for anyone visiting Cuba. While the cigars were only very lightly partaken by us, you don’t have to smoke them to appreciate the place they have in the culture here, the aroma permeates just about everywhere you go. Rum on the other hand… we smashed the rum and it’s awesome, but only blanco (white) rum, none of that brown rubbish.

5 – Flamenco Dancing:
There’s 2 main reasons why flamenco was so memorable to us. Firstly it’s a great link to the Spanish past and secondly because it’s simply astonishing to watch, it completely took us by surprise. The sound, the rhythm, indeed the whole package is nothing short of transporting. Be it a guy that’s no more than 50kg or a stunning woman exuding power and confidence; and of course sex it’s a force rather than a dance. Heaven help anyone who gets on the wrong side of a flamenco dancer, particularly the women.

4 – People:
A bit odd to have a generalisation in at number four but that explains the impact of the people here. The history, the global isolation, the lack of internet have concocted a simply intoxicating society. Yes they’re a complete pain in the ass most of the time but it can’t be ignored they’re just so suave, sexy and visually striking.

3 – Music:
Wow, just holy crap wow! Firstly there is live music everywhere, every meal you eat has live music and a lot of gardens and squares do too. What’s most amazing is a simple matter of quality, it makes talent/ reality shows at home look just stupid. Our first night there was in a restaurant in the dodgiest back lane imaginable. A dilapidated building opened to a beautiful dining room and two guys that played guitar and called down angels with their voices. And onward, the music is a deserved number three for us.

2 – Architecture:
At the risk of sounding like complete ponces the architecture in Havana is breathtaking. The amazing thing here is that Cuba was cut off from the world for many years when other cities were abusing their skylines with functional civic development. Much of it is run down but some is now restored in the gaudy bright colours that are simply Cuba. It’s this lack of dilution with modernisation combined with an exciting bloom of regeneration that makes ‘architecture’ more than a simply aesthetic word, it’s Cuba through and through. The more or less unbroken history also makes for an eclectic chain of architectural styles spanning over 500 years telling a perfectly intact story of this city’s tumultuous past.

1 – Photography and Writing:
It’s fitting that Cuba tops the chart with another esoteric memory, so much of Cuba is so hard to really put your finger on. The greatest memory we will take away from us is an intangible bubble in creativity. Havana particularly is the muse that keeps on feeding. It’s jarring, inspirational, confrontational and beautiful. Yes we’re cranking up the wank-O-meter here but you have to go there to appreciate it, it’s more than an idea, it’s a force that sweeps you along with it whether you want it to or not. If your life is stagnant, boring and repetitive, we prescribe a dose of Havana, guaranteed cure.

October 28, 2014

While you were working – The troubled youth: Havana

On our travels we’ve heard Havana described as beautifully broken, a very apt expression. I’ll go with another metaphor though, Havana in many ways seems to me like a troubled youth. As we attempt to take in Havana we feel like we’re only allowed to see from the outside, this old city is at this moment in time displaying youthful defensiveness from past hurts, so long extricating itself. I’ve found it hard to really put my finger on why Havana is so appealing, and it’s this mysterious allure of a troubled youth, so often exploding with talent and potential, that seems to give such captivation and frustrating evasiveness. I have within me a feeling so much closer to home, a person close to me that has forever provided this contrasting and emotionally charged response, yes Havana is a tempest untamed. As with my troubled subject we have a well of potential and raw talent to inspire poetry for so long gentled by a haze of distraction and sabotage, both external and internal. We are also privileged to see Havana in an embryonic burgeoning of colour where raw talent still bubbles under the first blushing steps from self imposed pathos exile.

As the tempest spins, the world looks on as this exciting prodigy removes its emo facade and begins interacting, breaths are drawn. The potential and raw talent I allude to are obvious, the beauty of the buildings and street-scapes that refuse to be collared into western aesthetics, this youth artfully refuses to adhere to the school uniform. The music and dance seemingly evade the most formal tuitions welling up from some instinctive and organic reserve that the rest of us just don’t seem to understand yet can’t resist being swept away by. A sense of style that seems rebelliously jarring and can only be appreciated with its intended backdrop. Yes Havana throws you into a barrage of sensory and experiential evocation that bypasses intellect and emerges assaultingly in your heart and gut, you have no idea how it got there, but there it is. These unorthodox explosions are all the more powerful for the lack of formality, they’re all in themselves familiar concepts but so much more impacting for their abruptness in presentation.

Don’t we say that true genius is never realised in its own lifetime? With all this potential and allure, there’s a flipside to this gem, it’s nothing short of a frustrating pain in the ass sometimes and you just want to slap it stupid. As with a troubled youth it’s not often difficult to scratch into history to easily see where the well of these difficulties had sprung, but challenging they are none the less. With a very recent melding of capitalist ethics layered onto this very communist of states, private business and the tourist dollar are now on offer. Havana with all its suave and talent seems ungainly and aggressive in playing with others. The invasive advances every 10 minutes, the misleading challenge of finding food and the unrelenting demand for money to pay for things that aren’t services at all simply make you want to scream at Havana while you stand agape at how wonderful it is, and how spectacular it surely will be.

In attempting to deliver Havana to the page I can only resist clear description, colours, images and scenes, it seems an injustice. For as a tourist for a short time, Havana exists not within what you see and what you can intellectually process, Havana remains an elusive idea, indeed a troubled youth. You want to get to know it but it won’t really let you, it’s history building up a toughened skin that is only known to itself. But then you see the escaping elements of wonder that make you stay the hand of judgement, you discard righteousness to what is right and take the emotionally challenging step to appreciating when you can’t locate what to appreciate. Feelings on Havana remain thus, unresolved, conflicted and with a drastic lack of resolution that only inspires a mind spinning admiration. Havana, you kill me but I think I may just love you.

October 27, 2014

While you were working – An Orwellian adventure

We’ve had our de-stress out in Viñales: we now launch back into the sensory invasion that is Havana once again. Accompanying a pulsing vibe that is nothing short of invasive, there is the odd matter of not having internet; the elephant in the room. Perhaps this is an essential ingredient to making the ‘buzz’ quite what it is here, perhaps it’s a view into a sort of social Orwellian future we don’t see yet. What is certain is that it definitely creates an environment that is subtly jarring to us, and I suspect any net-saturated person.

One thing for sure is that the people are smooth as butter here in Havana. Long distant are the gaudy screeches of street sellers to hock their wares, as are shy retiring introductions; yes Havana has suave. The mind does wonder though, why is this charm and social sophistication so abundant? I can’t help but feel that face to face is really the only way to do it here and I guess, you just get good at it. The confidence is also another characteristic we see in spades, is this related to doing everything in a very personal matter also? We all know of the phenomenon of someone that is one personality behind the anonymity of a keyboard, and another in person, what if you had no keyboard crutch, would you be the bold, witty social juggernaut of your avatar in real life?

And it doesn’t stop with the locals; tourists are thrown into the old/new world too. With just a week of not having internet we of course adopted many of the principles that we applaud so much yet so seldom embrace. We talk more, we think more, we write more, we take more photographs and we invariably keep the mental clutter far more in order. The instinctive reach to check rugby scores, news or email the instant our minds wrestle free of impetuous distraction is not an option in Havana, we’re in a world we laud yet never allow ourselves to visit. So once you push through that foggy panic of a moments peace and fail in your usual grab to fill it with another flavour of nothing, you find yourself in new territory.

So the mind drifts into thought, as it is want to do in Cuba and I can’t help a journey off into what slice of our future this part of Cuba might resemble. Entertain the rambling for just a moment will you, I’ve had a week of clear mind… Orwell wrote 1984 in a time it was impossible to foresee some of the concepts he so crazily penned. I don’t suggest that we’ll all jump into some sort of ‘no internet’ cult, but how many of us from time to time would just like the world to piss off? I can’t possibly be the only one who at times gets some degree of stress or anxiety with a phone that won’t stop ringing or an email inbox that just will not get smaller: can I?

Maybe there is some form of social evolution in our future where we more acutely rationalise in-the-same-room personal interaction. Maybe actual downtime in contactability becomes a more real thing than a pinko post-modern hippie ideal. Who really knows? What this little iPad typing, about to upload it to the blog hypocrite can say is that the lack of internet is not only a unique feature of Cuba, it’s nothing short of a mental reset button. It’s one thing to get righteous and proclaim the evils and social degradation in a digital age, it’s another to not have the option to connect even if you wanted to. And for this, Cuba, we thank you.

October 26, 2014

What you’d rather be seeing – Cuba

#please view on iPad or larger.

Life on the streets of Havana

Havana transport

Havana’s skyline

Cuba – how I see it

October 25, 2014

While you were working – Valle de Viñales, Cuba

So first day in Viñales, it seems obligatory to do a horseback trip through the valley, recommended by other travellers so why not we say. But that’s not until the afternoon so we hop on some bikes to have a little ride around the valley. We take in a great view as we perch on a shady balcony and take in the valley sipping juice straight from the coconut, life’s tough. Throw in a few detours to a massive mural that takes up a whole cliff face, and more coconut. It’s a hot day and not a cloud in the sky so bashing around on the bikes has these very white boys cooking a little. The valley here is not too dissimilar to the Wolgan valley in Australia, with a flat base of soil flanked by modest mountains sporting striking cliffs. It’s a relaxing dose of the familiar in a country so very unfamiliar.
Soon enough 2:30 rolls around and our driver is here, Alejandro, and not too foul on the eyes it has to be said. I all of a sudden become quite chatty in Spanish, Alejandro is all too happy to help, he’s totally flirting with me. Sadly enough we’re handed over to Junior, apparently Alejandro isn’t taking the trip, although I’m certain he wanted to. So we part ways, our romance sadly cut short, ‘it was magical for me’ I hear him say as he drives off.
So we mount up and off we go, not being too familiar to a saddle it’s probably a good thing that we’re moreso just sitting rather than riding, the hoses know exactly where to go. I do have a little stack on the first dismount, thank god Alejandro didn’t see that! First stop is a tobacco hut. We get a rundown of tobacco growing, storing and treating before watching a very chatty fella make a cigar from start to finish. It’s pretty awesome to see and we are conned into having a little puff. We decline buying any cigars but opt to taste a local drink which of course is based on rum. Two grapefruits are scalped and partially gutted at the table, a little honey and a fair whack off white rum and we’re in business. Holy shit these are great, and people here seem to go for rum and coke, WTF!

The trip takes us to a cave, a swim in a lake and to a coffee producer for a demo there for an OJ and a coffee to give it a sample. The coffee is super strong, wow, that’ll put hair on your bum no worries. The combination of natural highlight and cultural flavour is a good one. Coffee, rum and of course cigars are staple vices here so an off-the-path view feels like a true travelling experience. And apparently white rum is the go here, not dark rum, you can have white rum all day apparently and not get a hangover, a girl on each arm, partying all night as we’re told, good to know.
The valley we’ve been riding is called Valle de Silencio, and it’s easy to see why, it’s serenity defined. After the intensity of Havana, this is exactly what we needed, surrounded by picturesque vistas amongst small producers and getting a great look into the workings of a life so far from what we know is a real treat. We’re basically the men from Snowy River by days end, got this horse thing nailed, Alejandro would be impressed. The relative familiarity of the terrain backdropping the lifestyle experiences forms a very effective environment to take it all in.
So with slightly sore bums we make our way back into town, very happy with ourselves but absolutely nackered. It’s been a sweaty day cooking in the sun and its taking it’s toll. We grab a quick drink and Charlie gets more or less molested by a girl in the bar, very much more than less. I’m sent to go get the next round as Charlie doesn’t want to get near her, big mistake. The second I get up she’d salsa dancing right over. Think I might need the bathroom too, sorry babe, on your own here. On my return I do my very best to put Charlie in trouble.. “no I don’t salsa but Charlie wanted to learn”, “no I’m not going to party tonight but Charlie is keen”… you get the idea. This circumstance is pure gold watching this poor floozy throw the kitchen sink at an immovable object.
And we can thoroughly tick the box. Viñales has offered the perfect counterpoint to what we had in Havana. We see all the cultural hallmarks that make Cuba what it is with a great flavour of the simple life of a time gone by. In a country where internet and mobile networks are nearly non existent, this is about as good a trip into ‘simple life’ as we’re gonna get this year. And for that, Cuba, we thank you.