Cuba - Lonely Planet [291]
Uneac (Map; Manduley btwn Luz Caballero & Martí) If you only visit one Uneac (Unión Nacional de Escritores y Artistas de Cuba; National Union of Cuban Writers and Artists) center in Cuba – there are 14 of them in all (one in each province) – make sure it’s this one. Situated in a lovingly restored house on pedestrianized Calle Manduley, this friendly establishment offers everything from literary evenings (with famous authors) and music nights, to patio theater (including Lorca), and cultural reviews. Everyone is welcome.
Biblioteca Alex Urquiola (Map; 46-25-62; Maceo No 180) Culture vultures steam the creases out of their evening dresses to come here to see live theater, and performances by the Orquesta Sinfónica de Holguín.
Casa de la Trova (Map; Maceo No 174; Tue-Sun) Old guys in Panama hats croon under the rafters, musicians in guayaberas (pleated, buttoned shirts) blast on trumpets, while ancient couples in their Sunday best map out a perfect danzón (traditional Cuban ballroom dance colored with African influences). So timeless, so Holguín.
Casa de la Música (Map; cnr Frexes & Manduley; Tue-Sun) There’s a young trendy vibe along the line outside this place on Parque Calixto García. If you can’t dance, stay static sinking beers on the adjacent Terraza Bucanero (entry via Calle Manduley).
Casa Iberoamericana (Map; 42-25-33; Arias No 161) Situated on quieter Parque Céspedes, this paint-peeled place frequently hosts peñas (musical performances).
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ON THE ROAD WITH THE AMARILLOS
‘The road is life,’ wrote seminal American author Jack Kerouac in the 1950s, inadvertently summing up Cuba’s post–Special Period transport system in one succinct sentence. Hitchhiking around the country with the amarillos, the state-sanctioned traffic officials (so named for their mustard-yellow uniforms), is about as real life as Cuba gets. To do it you’ll need oodles of patience, a sense of humor and an innate ability to wait interminably at the side of the road for hours on end. In the process, it could turn out to be your greatest in-country adventure or your worst Cuban nightmare.
In Cuba, hacer botella (hitchhiking) using the amarillo system is legally enforced making it socially acceptable and generally safe. All cars with blue (government-owned) license plates are obliged to stop and take on passengers if they have room. Drivers who unsocialistically whizz past risk a stiff fine.
Though the waiting system appears disorganized to the uninitiated, there’s a certain method to the madness. First, proceed to the edge of town and find the local transit point. Second, approach the authoritative-looking person in the mustard-yellow uniform and tell them which direction you’re heading. Third, take the colored scrap of card they give you, join the haphazard queue at the side of the road (for hints on queuing see boxed text,) and pray it’s not a long wait.
Far from being a desperation measure for impoverished backpackers, hitchhiking in Cuba is the preserve of everyone from doctors to students who gather patiently by the highway to trade gossip, grumbles, jokes and jibes. Caught up in the melee, your tales from the road will rarely be dull. Fatefully, you might spend your morning sitting Houdini-like in the backseat of a Fiat Uno, and the afternoon wedged cheek to jowl in a camión particular (private truck). Alternatively, there are the easy days when a plush new tour coach pulls up fresh from dumping its wealthy tourist cargo in an expensive north-coast all-inclusive and invites you to step on board. Ah, if only life could always be so serendipitous!
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Jazz Club (Map; 42-47-16; cnr Frexes & Manduley; 11am-3am) The jazz jams