Day 6, February 17, 2020: Baracoa - Guantanamo - Santiago
This morning we said adiós to Onoria, and departed Baracoa on the long ride to Santiago de Cuba.
Down the main drag out of town, headed for the Carrera Central, our route unfortunately coincided with the Tuesday city trash collection. For a half hour or so we crept along behind a garbage truck almost as wide as the street, house by house, until finding an intersection wide enough for the bus to turn and exit. We finally reached the Malecón, where there were few vehicles and the sea below was surging and rough. Leaving Baracoa, we saw again reminders that the city was devastated by Hurricane Matthew:
Soon, we were in the countryside and out on the Carrera Central, the serpentine highway in yellow on the image below.
The mountains of eastern Cuba which isolate Baracoa comprise a range known formally as Macizo Nipe Sagua Baracoa (the Nipe-Sagua-Baracoa Massif). The range is east of the better-known Sierra Maestra, which is mostly in the Santiago de Cuba and Granma provinces. The Paseo de la Farola is the modern highway, completed in the 1960’s, that joins Baracoa and Guantánamo. Among those pushing hard for its construction was the prominent revolutionary Che Guevara. La Farola is among the beautiful byways of the world. In not so many miles it climbs from sea level to many thousands of feet and back down to the sea again. The locale being mountains and tropical forest, there are few communities. From time to time, though, we would make hairpin turns and groups of people, instant apparitions, were visible on the shoulder as if from nowhere, offering flowers, handicrafts and so on for sale. Then in a few meters, around another curve, they were gone. Small rope-operated sleds known as “chivichangas” were next to roadside springs. The locals employ them to carry items, including water, up and down the slopes.
The valleys are steep-sided and vegetated. Still, even at higher elevations, the aftermath of Hurricane Matthew is evident in decapitated trees and swaths of land stripped of growth. All in all, it is very remote and physically imposing country. Stuart said to Dave, “This is why the revolutionaries started here. No way to find them.” Indeed, the Oriente is the cradle of guerrilla war in Cuba, going back centuries.
The southern side of the range transitions into smaller mountains and ridges composed of limestone and peppered with caves. Where the ridges are eroded or collapsed one can see the walls of ancient caverns, with still-visible stalactites now exposed to sunlight and open air. Blocked from the rain which comes to Baracoa on the trade winds, Guantánamo is semi-desert, much like the American southwest or the leeward sides of the Hawaiian Islands. Cholla, cacti, mesquite trees, other thorny plants grow here, and low oaks. Some stream beds are seasonal and dry, others spring-fed. In mid-February, it was over 90 degrees but with a cooling ocean breeze. The highway parallels the deep-blue Caribbean. On this day the ocean was completely devoid of boats, stretching to the southern horizon. The transition is evident on the map above.
Perhaps for being the place where the Castro-Cienfuegos-Guevara Revolution started, political billboards and signs are prominent in this part of Guantánamo and on into Santiago, more so than in Baracoa (although present there also, to be sure).
Before reaching Guantánamo City, we skirted Guantánamo Bay Naval Base. To do this, we proceeded very slowly through a Cuban military checkpoint. We did not enter US territory, although the “border” was visible off to our left. A nice hilltop park to the west looks down on Guantánamo Bay and the naval base. We had brought box lunches, and the park has a bar, some snacks, and clean bathrooms which cost 0.50 CUC (US 50 cents). That’s the fee for the attendant to open the door and provide the bucket of water for flushing. A steady gig, looks like. Maybe like being a gas pumper in Oregon.
A young government official presented, from a lookout tower above Guantánamo Bay, their official stance about Guantánamo. She was calm, friendly, appealing, and outfitted with a notebook of historical photographs and reproduced documents. Using her visual aids she recounted the history forward from the famous, or infamous, Platt Amendment, signed in 1903 just after Cuba’s newly won independence from Spain. With Platt, the US either stole (from the Cuban perspective) or leased indefinitely (our perspective) the base at Guantánamo Bay. She finished with photos of the Muslim prisoners in orange suits and hobbles, incarcerated there now going on nearly 20 years. Cuba’s position that the Platt Amendment is not legitimate has at least been consistent. The US pays an annual rent of $4,085 for the 45 square miles of bay-front, which we operate in sovereignty. Since 1960, Cuba has not cashed a single one of the rent checks.
Motoring on toward Santiago de Cuba, again the terrain is progressively more mountainous and verdant. Santiago’s population is almost a million people.
The baseball stadium for the Santiago Wasps of the Cuban National Baseball League is on the main route. A tree-lined avenue led to the Hotel Melía, our digs for the duration.
Dave and MJ elected to skip dinner, rest and eat cheese sandwiches in the hotel bar and grill. The luscious repast combined melted American cheese on white bread, and six (6!) potato fries. No problem. They had Ron Santiago de Cuba 8 Años, gourmet enough.
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| Our terrific host Onoria |
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| Same guys who brung us took us back |
Down the main drag out of town, headed for the Carrera Central, our route unfortunately coincided with the Tuesday city trash collection. For a half hour or so we crept along behind a garbage truck almost as wide as the street, house by house, until finding an intersection wide enough for the bus to turn and exit. We finally reached the Malecón, where there were few vehicles and the sea below was surging and rough. Leaving Baracoa, we saw again reminders that the city was devastated by Hurricane Matthew:
Soon, we were in the countryside and out on the Carrera Central, the serpentine highway in yellow on the image below.
 |
| Carrera Central de Cuba (Paseo de la Farola) |
The mountains of eastern Cuba which isolate Baracoa comprise a range known formally as Macizo Nipe Sagua Baracoa (the Nipe-Sagua-Baracoa Massif). The range is east of the better-known Sierra Maestra, which is mostly in the Santiago de Cuba and Granma provinces. The Paseo de la Farola is the modern highway, completed in the 1960’s, that joins Baracoa and Guantánamo. Among those pushing hard for its construction was the prominent revolutionary Che Guevara. La Farola is among the beautiful byways of the world. In not so many miles it climbs from sea level to many thousands of feet and back down to the sea again. The locale being mountains and tropical forest, there are few communities. From time to time, though, we would make hairpin turns and groups of people, instant apparitions, were visible on the shoulder as if from nowhere, offering flowers, handicrafts and so on for sale. Then in a few meters, around another curve, they were gone. Small rope-operated sleds known as “chivichangas” were next to roadside springs. The locals employ them to carry items, including water, up and down the slopes.
The valleys are steep-sided and vegetated. Still, even at higher elevations, the aftermath of Hurricane Matthew is evident in decapitated trees and swaths of land stripped of growth. All in all, it is very remote and physically imposing country. Stuart said to Dave, “This is why the revolutionaries started here. No way to find them.” Indeed, the Oriente is the cradle of guerrilla war in Cuba, going back centuries.
 |
| "Vamos Para Baracoa," by Luís Rodriguez Arias, Paseo de la Farola in naive art. |
The southern side of the range transitions into smaller mountains and ridges composed of limestone and peppered with caves. Where the ridges are eroded or collapsed one can see the walls of ancient caverns, with still-visible stalactites now exposed to sunlight and open air. Blocked from the rain which comes to Baracoa on the trade winds, Guantánamo is semi-desert, much like the American southwest or the leeward sides of the Hawaiian Islands. Cholla, cacti, mesquite trees, other thorny plants grow here, and low oaks. Some stream beds are seasonal and dry, others spring-fed. In mid-February, it was over 90 degrees but with a cooling ocean breeze. The highway parallels the deep-blue Caribbean. On this day the ocean was completely devoid of boats, stretching to the southern horizon. The transition is evident on the map above.
Perhaps for being the place where the Castro-Cienfuegos-Guevara Revolution started, political billboards and signs are prominent in this part of Guantánamo and on into Santiago, more so than in Baracoa (although present there also, to be sure).
 |
| A small town pit-stop. Stuart and Peggy took in work from an artist to be shown at IFAM. He lives right down the road. Better supplied than the roadside store in Moa. |
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| Translation obvious |
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| "Wherever nature has flowers, the mind has them, too." |
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| "Revolution is a sense of the historical moment." |
Before reaching Guantánamo City, we skirted Guantánamo Bay Naval Base. To do this, we proceeded very slowly through a Cuban military checkpoint. We did not enter US territory, although the “border” was visible off to our left. A nice hilltop park to the west looks down on Guantánamo Bay and the naval base. We had brought box lunches, and the park has a bar, some snacks, and clean bathrooms which cost 0.50 CUC (US 50 cents). That’s the fee for the attendant to open the door and provide the bucket of water for flushing. A steady gig, looks like. Maybe like being a gas pumper in Oregon.
A young government official presented, from a lookout tower above Guantánamo Bay, their official stance about Guantánamo. She was calm, friendly, appealing, and outfitted with a notebook of historical photographs and reproduced documents. Using her visual aids she recounted the history forward from the famous, or infamous, Platt Amendment, signed in 1903 just after Cuba’s newly won independence from Spain. With Platt, the US either stole (from the Cuban perspective) or leased indefinitely (our perspective) the base at Guantánamo Bay. She finished with photos of the Muslim prisoners in orange suits and hobbles, incarcerated there now going on nearly 20 years. Cuba’s position that the Platt Amendment is not legitimate has at least been consistent. The US pays an annual rent of $4,085 for the 45 square miles of bay-front, which we operate in sovereignty. Since 1960, Cuba has not cashed a single one of the rent checks.
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| Guantánamo Bay |
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| The entrance to Guantánamo Bay. The infamous Detention Center is just beyond the low hill, center left of the pic. |
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| Santiago's Revolution Square. Antonio Maceo, 19th century Cuban independence hero, amid 23 machetes. "El Titan de Bronce." |
The baseball stadium for the Santiago Wasps of the Cuban National Baseball League is on the main route. A tree-lined avenue led to the Hotel Melía, our digs for the duration.
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| From our room, Hotel Melía, Santiago |
Dave and MJ elected to skip dinner, rest and eat cheese sandwiches in the hotel bar and grill. The luscious repast combined melted American cheese on white bread, and six (6!) potato fries. No problem. They had Ron Santiago de Cuba 8 Años, gourmet enough.
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| West, at dusk, Santiago |
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