Two Weeks in Cuba: Havana

Before spending two weeks in Cuba not even I was prepared for quite how many photos I would take... As it turns out my memory card is fit to burst with over a thousand pictures of our adventures so I've decided to split the story into bitesize chunks to make things easier to digest. First stop, Havana!

After a surprisingly easy 9 hour flight of film watching, snacking and napping we arrived at José Martí International airport in the late afternoon. I nervously exchanged the wads of cash we'd brought for cuban pesos or CUCs and then we hopped in a taxi towards the city. The casa particular I'd reserved online for the first few nights of our trip was in Centro Habana the bustling heart of the town where most locals live. The streets were dusty and full of people lounging on pavements, pushing vegetable barrows and kids kicking balls around. From every doorway pulsed music of some kind and the heat of the day was at it's height.

To cut a long story short it turned out that the owners of our casa had forgotten we were coming (though had been all too keen to take our deposit...) and were in Venezuela. Their son showed us to a tiny stiflingly hot room that wasn't what I had seen online with no glass in the windows, no AC and a sheet strung up to separate the toilet from the bed. We waited for 45 minutes for him to return and sort things out and then just gave up and headed to a hotel on the Malecón or sea front. The view from our room was pretty impressive:

After soaking up all the cold air we could from our exceptionally loud and doddery AC unit we stepped back out onto the street again to find some dinner.

The food in Cuba is simple stuff though often incredibly tasty. You have the option of either chicken, pork, fish, shrimp or lobster...and rice and beans. Everything comes with rice and beans. As it was now dark and would have been about 2.30am in England we sat on the sea wall for a while and then headed upstairs to bed ready to explore the city the next morning.

Havana, or La Habana as the locals call it, is exactly as everyone says it is; like stepping back in time.

The Capitolio is a copy of the original American building and stands proudly like an intricately iced cake surrounded by colourful cars. I thought the vintage car thing would be something for tourists but it turns out that Cuba really is full of these beauties and if you order a taxi you can bet it'll be more interesting than your average British car.

 Locals sit hunched around low tables playing dominoes on street corners and queuing for supplies outside ration shops. Believe it or not Cubans still have ration books and are only allowed 1kg of rice and flour a month along with small pieces of meat and cans of beans.

Followed by cries of "my fren' my fren' you wan taxi? cigar? casa?" (the jineteros or street hustlers in Cuba are everywhere! As a rule of thumb never buy cigars/rum on the street as they're almost certain to be fake) we made our way to Habana Vieja or the old town. On route we came across some men laying new tarmac on a side road with tools from what looked like the 1950s...

 The prison was also an interesting sight with its fortress like walls and prisoners sitting on the inside steps staring through the bars:

We found the cathedral and a smiling little old man gave me a hibiscus flower for my hat.

Other than the incredible whoosh of cold air that hit you whenever anyone entered or left the Museo de Chocolate what drew you inside was the smell; chocolate in all its wonderful forms. We each had a rum truffle and let them melt in our mouths as we wondered past the small exhibits.



Next we found a bar where a man was crushing sugar cane in a press to extract the juice; you could buy a glass mixed with rum and ice.

As we were wandering back to the hotel for an afternoon siesta we came across a little bald man in a baseball cap with a fat cigar clamped between his teeth. He asked us where we were from and told me he was a tattoo artist (he was indeed covered in tattoos). Before we knew it we were off on a tour of the city with him; he didn't speak any English but was happy chattering away in Spanish and telling us everything he knew. He took us to a bar just down the road where we drank mojitos and watched a small band play.

The houses in Havana are 500 years old and literally falling to pieces. You step through the doorway of a crumbling town house to see the marble staircase and nooks carved into the walls where people have made their homes. Everything is original from the immense door with the face of the owner still carved in it to the columns and ceiling.

He took us to see his friend a furniture restorer called "El Chino" who lived in a tiny low ceilinged house behind his workshop. The realities of life as a cuban who has nothing to do with the tourist trade are quite shocking. He lives off his monthly rations and had very little in terms of luxury. He was so proud to show us his cabinet which he used as a shrine to the Santería gods. Santería is a Cuban religion that's a mixture of African and Catholic traditions brought to the island by slaves.

On our last day in Havana we spent the morning exploring and then headed home just in time to miss the afternoon rain. It was supposedly the rainy season in Cuba but only rained a handful of times during our whole trip and then only for an hour or two. The Malecón was still beautiful in the rain and it wasn't long after it stopped that the sky was gorgeous in the sunset and the cubanos came out to line the seafront again as they do every night.

We sat watching a lightening storm as it rolled out to sea surrounded by little groups of people chatting, strumming guitars and singing. Havana had been an incredible start to our trip but even after 3 nights I was looking forward to leaving the noise, smells and the bustle behind the next day when we would set off for the next stop on our Cuba adventure; Viñales. Coming soon!

Back in Madrid!

With the last days of university officially behind us Annie, Cat and I set off on our Madrid reunion trip to stir up old memories and enjoy the sunshine. (Unfortunately at the last minute Annabel had to stay behind but was with us in spirit!)

I flew out a couple of days before the others to spend the weekend with my old housemate Katrina in her new flat in Embajadores. Setting foot in Madrid again was such a strange experience; so many emotions and memories came flooding back. The smell of sunshine and cigarette smoke hits you in waves as you step off the plane and it wasn't long before I was rattling along on the metro towards Sol. A few couples passionately making out on the platform, a beggar forlornly holding out a cup in my direction and a call of "ehhhh mami!"from a darkened doorway, along with the requisite kissy kissy noises, meant there was no mistaking where I was...

Saturday and Sunday were spent in a happy blur enjoying afternoon drinks in kerbside bars, exploring the centre again and finding my feet in the city I used to call home. On a stroll through Retiro Park we came across the rose garden or rosaleda; something I'd missed last year:

 

 

 

This is a gorgeous space, overflowing with flowers, surrounded by a low hedge towards the edge of the park. Perfect for a romantic walk or just to get away from the hustle of the city for a while.

Cat and Annie arrived on the Monday and we found our Airbnb apartment near Malasaña. Three days of sheer relaxation followed; I didn't think about work or grades or job hunting once. We took advantage of the brands that can't be found in the UK and shopped til we quite literally dropped. Lying on our picnic blanket under the shade of the trees in Retiro we shared a feast of tortilla, empanadas, apricots and tomatoes. The birds chirruped above us, a pair of squirrels fought tooth and claw over some tidbit and the hot sun left everyone lazy and lolling about.

 

As I sunk through the clouds to hit the runway back in Luton it felt like coming back to earth in more ways than one. I've had such an incredible last few days; our Madrid trip, finding out I'll be graduating with a First Class degree from Southampton in July and tonight we're heading off to a summer ball at the top of Portsmouth's Spinnaker tower. What's more in just under 48 hours I'll be in Cuba for our summer holiday!

It will probably take me a little while to sort through all the squillions of photos I'll be taking while away but I'll get a post up as soon as I can when we get back.

Why it's ok to hate your year abroad...

It's that time of year again; third years are packing their bags, desperately making the most of every last second of beach-time, tearfully saying goodbye to their new-found foreign friends and then wearily trudging through the airport towards the rain, wind and predictable greyness of home....or are they?

What if you can't wait to set foot back in old England? What if the sunshine, sangría and oh-so-sassy Spanish language have left you cold? Your suitcases full 3 days before they need to be, your return ticket in pride of place on your bedside table and all your waking hours spent dreaming of roast chicken dinners, rainy summer afternoons and being in a place where you don't need to consult a dictionary to buy a doughnut. The day arrives, you leap out of bed and are at the airport before you can say "adios amigo" because you, like a lot of other students out there, secretly hated your year abroad.

Maybe your job was rubbish, maybe your housemates were awful, you missed your friends/partner/parents/hamster or the sheer effort of having to speak in a different language was constantly getting you down. Whatever the reasons for not enjoying your year abroad the fact that you didn't have the best year of your life is nothing to be ashamed of and here's why:


1. Incredible levels of pressure

"Oh my god you're going to have the best time!" is usually the first thing someone says when you tell them you're going away for a year. Their heads are full of images of partying into the night, a new latino lover, long lazy lunches and endless sunshine. This is all very well but what noone tells the innocent little second years before they set out is that before all the fun can begin they'll need a flat to call home, a job/internship/study placement to satisfy their university and a few friends to hang out with.

This ridiculous pressure to be enjoying yourself ALL THE TIME leaves students with unrealistic expectations. Finding a flat, finding your feet at work and making friends can take anything up to a couple of months (in the case of friends sometimes a lot longer) and can be incredibly stressful. It's important for everyone to understand that, as well as having the potential for being a truly great experience, a year abroad is also often the hardest thing that any student will do during their degree.


2. It's not your fault

The majority of problems encountered on a year abroad can be solved - check out my previous post Taking Charge of Your Year Abroad.

There are some things, however, that are completely out of your control and can definitely ruin a year abroad. Maybe you've moved 4 times in 8 months and still can't find a flat not peopled by psychos, maybe you turned up to work one morning and were told it had closed down (happened to a friend of mine), perhaps you were overcome by crippling shyness or anxiety or maybe you just couldn't shake the terrible homesickness that seemed to be taking over your life.

If you tried to change your situation for the better but failed then there's absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. Yes there will be people who came back from travelling round South America boasting of their spiritual epiphanies, friends in Paris snogging on top of the Eiffel Tower and people who managed to find a job on Spanish television and became minor celebrities. There are also people, however, (and they often won't be so keen to shout this from the rooftops) who absolutely hated every single second of their year abroad with a passion. If you're one of these people it's absolutely ok.


3. It wasn't a waste of time

Whatever your feelings about your year abroad it was most definitely NOT a waste of time.

Firstly, you were away for at least 9 months, a few words of your chosen language must have filtered through to your vocabulary. You may be feeling ashamed of how little you've improved but don't - trust me, when you get back to uni you'll see how almost everybody feels the same way.

Secondly you learnt an incredible amount about other countries, cultures and most importantly yourself. There will have been situations when you had to stand up for yourself, overcome your fear and argue with a bank manager, organise a flat search alone on the other side of the world or simply become comfortable travelling solo hopping from plane to train to taxi. These experiences will help you no end in the future. The self-knowledge you gained will have an effect on your future choices. If you were thinking of a job that involved long periods of international travel but suffered terribly with homesickness then you may start considering other options.

The fact that you didn't enjoy your time away doesn't make you a bad person or even a bad languages student. We are all different, it would be ridiculous to expect everyone to have the time of their life while away, and you can still have fun speaking italian at a local exchange evening or on holiday with friends. Equally though don't let this experience put a dampner on all your future travel plans; you may just have better luck next time!

Right now though, it's good to be home...

If you have any questions or comments feel free to leave them below or tweet me @madridadrift, also don't forget to follow me on instagram for photos of all things travel

La Feria del Libro - A Book Lover's Dream

If you like books and are in Madrid in early June then missing out on the Feria del Libro is something you'll kick yourself for over and over again. During this time the long leafy avenues of the Parque del Retiro are lined with little canopied stalls piled high with every sort of book you could imagine.

People stroll along, passing from stall to stall and picking up anything that takes their fancy to flip it over and read the blurb. This book fair isn't just for secondhand or antique books (though there are definitely stalls dedicated to these) and the focus is on showcasing the incredible Spanish publishing industry. Each numbered stall has the name of the publishing house or casa editorial printed on its canopy and you can find anything from self help, gothic horror, beautiful graphic novels and atlases to kids picture books, current bestsellers and teen fiction.

I came along late one afternoon as the sun was setting through the trees to have a browse and a wander. Elisa who normally spent her days working alongside me in the Casa del Libro shop on Gran Vía had been sent to the park to man our stall so it was lovely to chat with her.

 

The prices of books on offer are at times a little cheaper than on the highstreet but don't expect anything to be super reduced.

If you're interested in working in the publishing industry or with books in general then I cannot recommend this place enough as somewhere to network. You'll need to speak Spanish (which goes without saying really as these are Spanish publishing houses) but representatives from all over Spain are here in their hundreds! If you can't make it to the fair itself the list of publishers involved can be found online after a quick google which makes speculative applications by email much easier.

I haven't been posting on my blog half as much as I normally would as I've been so busy lately! Now dissertation, coursework and exams are all over I'm so looking forward to this summer. First I'll be heading back to Madrid for a few days next week (yay!) then I'll be travelling to Cuba for two weeks at the end of June and then have an interesting looking month of work experience planned for August.

I can't wait to get back to Madrid but I can't even explain how excited I am for our trip to Cuba! I've never been to the Caribbean but it's always been a dream of mine; I'm imagining pirate treasure, tropical beaches, gorgeous crumbling architecture and cocktails in the setting sun.

Brace yourselves for a barage of photos and posts documenting our travels on my return in July!

Spanish Architecture!

Things have been so busy here what with coursework and writing my dissertation that I haven't posted on madridadrift for over a month! So this is just a quick roundup of all the fantastic architecture I saw over my year abroad:

Córdoba

Roman ruins, shady streets, flowers galore and the fantastic Mezquita; a mix of Moorish and Christian styles and stripey columns!

 

 

 

 

El Palacio de Madrid

 



Granada

The impressive Alhambra, colourful markets, mosaics and more!

 

 

Toledo

Silver swords and marzipan, fairytale castles, twisting alleyways and golden churches...

 

Segovia

An awe-inspiring aqueduct and gothic cathedral

 

Sevilla

The Plaza de España at sunset, a romantic alcázar and purple bougainvillea tumbling from rooftops...

 

 

 

 

This is just a taste of the gorgeous buildings I saw while on my year abroad. The sheer range of styles is incredible and proof of what a varied and interesting country Spain is. Where's your favourite spot in Spain?