VARADERO

8th - 10th Nov 2017

An 'all inclusive' hotel at Varadero. Or it might have been a nuclear power station.

On up to the north coast, about 80 miles east of Havana, to the resort town of Varadero. The town itself is at the western end of a 14 mile long narrow peninsular or spit. On this peninsular are in excess of 60 hotels (and increasing) which cater for the 'all-inclusive' holidaymakers who like to swim and sunbathe during the day and eat and get pie-eyed in the evening. Not my sort of holiday and you might as well be on any other sunny beach in the world. Anyway, I was keen to see it.

I sometimes wonder how these all-inclusive joints don't lose money. The simple answer is that most nationalities choose to, or can only, drink in relative moderation. North Americans, I am told, are normally fairly abstemious  and when given unlimited alcoholic access they fall over after only a modest few sherbets. On the other hand, a typical British holidaymaker has considerably more appetite, thirst and endurance (practice?). After a day's ardous basting he/she will happily drink about 25 pints of wallop before supper, get raucously drunk, but still manage to carry on boozing well into the night, or early morning. I suspect it must balance out somehow. You can tell 'all-inclusive' guests because they wear colour-coded wrist bands.

I stayed at another very pleasant Casa in the town. The charming lady owner, Daniella, had another of these omnipresent Dachshund dogs. This one was called Jago and was rather stand-offish which was fine by me.

The town itself is very pleasant, clean and tidy with many relatively decent bars, cafés and restaurants plus a large underground shopping 'mall'. At first I couldn't see the street signs because I was looking upwards. In fact they are set into robust and tasteful little stone pyramids at ground level at the end of every 'calle'. Again, I spent a bit of time buying another ETECSA internet card and then trying to locate the WiFi hotspots. There was one in the shopping mall which conveniently had a few cafés to sit in.

The beach, on the north side, was most attractive with clean white sand and clear turquoise sea. It stretched the whole length of the peninsular.

Kite surfing was popular. There were little groups of these surfing aficionados dotted along the town beach.

After what seemed like a lot of complicated stringing together of their kites and harnesses they leapt off the beach and whizzed away. They made it look remarkably easy.

I did a recce of the local car/bike hire shop to investigate hiring a scooter tomorrow with the aim of travelling around the peninsular. A scooter would cost CUC 60 per day. Rather expensive, so will decide tomorrow.

There were some decent restaurants. This one, Dante's, was in a park at the eastern end of the town and I went there for supper. Quite a picturesque area with lakes and a few other bars. The head waiter was also a 'sommelier', spoke reasonable English and had a good wine cellar (or series of racks). He persuaded me to buy a bottle. He was a good salesman. I ordered, unadventurously, spaghetti bolognese, and it was rather good. A cut above previous Cuban fare. 

All was peace and quiet until a large noisy French family arrived with 3 children and sat at the table opposite. 

....and then, of course, the band arrived having been playing previously at a bar on the other side of the lake. Yes, they were very good. I resisted buying their CD.

The next morning I awoke to pouring rain; the first bit of rain I had so far experienced. At least it was warm rain. I therefore decided against hiring the scooter. Just as well, because Daniella told me there is a hop-on/hop-off 'tour bus' (as in all the other places) which for CUC10 does a round trip of the peninsular. I caught it and off we set on a trip around all the hotels. The sun had come out again by now. There was an extraordinary number and variation of hotels, and much building work on even more going up. Some looked quite tasteful and pleasant, and some, as per the photo at the top, didn't. It took about an hour to reach the easterly point with many stops and detours. At the eastern end is a large marina (right). The strange think about it was that there were almost no boats moored there. We are only about 80 miles from the nearest Florida Keys from here. Could that have something to do with it? To date I'm still not sure what the status of American tourists is. I think they cannot come here direct from USA, but do so via other countries (ie Mexico). I do know that it is very difficult for ordinary Cubans to leave, legally. Plenty of scope for 'people smuggling' but I know nothing about it.

There is a smart 18 hole golf course on the peninsular. At one end of it is this splendid looking Spanish villa (left), called Mansión Xanadú, built by the wealthy American Du Pont family in the 1930s. It is now an expensive restaurant and 8 bedroom hotel. I stopped there for a drink. It has been falling apart on the seaward side and is undergoing renovation.

Right: Looking east up the beach from Mansión Xanadú.
My poor camera does not show adequately the line after line of sun-loungers and occupants burning off the after-effects of unlimited alcohol which, presumably, stretch the full 14 miles to the far end. I expect with an easterly breeze the smell of simmering sun-tan lotion is overpowering.

While fiddling with my PC at another 'hot-spot' in town, a dance club called Casa de la Musica, I met two Swiss ladies 'on tour'. They had been taking Salsa lessons, they told me, and were waiting for the dancing to start so they could practice. "Would I care to join them", they enquired. I was not filled with enthusiasm. I did look in later and nothing much seemed to be going on. The two ladies were sitting alone with no dancing apparent. I decided not to spend the CUC 10 entry charge on that showing.

I must say, the variety of music and dance in this country is extraordinary. A lot with African influence, some from Spanish. I mention only a few. It ranges from Salsa to Rumba, Tumba, Milonga, Bomba, Samba, Bamba, Bamboula, Tambo, Tango, Cumbé, Cumbia, Candiombe, Danzón, something called Regaetón  and, for all I know, the Hokey Kokey and Dashing White Sergeant. With two left feet and little sense of the complex rhythms, I was not inclined to try.

I can't think of anything else of interest to say about Varadero. Nice enough place. Heading west along the coast back towards Havana next. I intend to drop in at the town of Guanabo en-route which, the guide book says, has some nice beaches. We shall see.