Cuba > Havana in the dark

At 7:30 a.m., I’m driven to Schiphol Airport. It’s a bit early, but at least we avoid the traffic. At the airport, I happen to run into a colleague who is also heading to Moscow—it really is a small world. The contact person from Shoestring hasn’t arrived yet. While I sit on a bench overlooking the departure hall, the Shoestring representative appears, along with the first fellow travelers. I check in with Geert, Hannie, and Marijke. I recognize Marijke from her photo on the Shoestring traveler platform. After some last-minute shopping and a coffee with a roll, we board the Air France plane to Paris around 10:00 a.m. The flight goes smoothly, and a little over an hour later, we land at Charles de Gaulle Airport. It takes some time to find the correct gate for our connection. A bus takes us across the airport from Pier F to Pier A. On the bus, we already meet several other travelers heading to Cuba.

Cuba - One of the streets in the Centro Habana neighborhood

During coffee, we get to know each other better. A little after 1:00 p.m., we board the plane. The Air France 747-300 ultimately departs at 3:00 p.m. due to the long queue of planes waiting to take off. But a delay doesn’t matter much on such a long flight. I try to figure out the exact flight time: is it a 5, 6, or 7-hour time difference? And what about daylight saving time? It turns out to be nine hours of travel and a six-hour time difference. After two meals, some reading about Cuba, and a bit of sleep, we arrive in Havana around 11:30 p.m.—5:30 p.m. local time. At customs, passports and visas are checked. Everyone is inspected one by one before finally being allowed into Cuba. The delay doesn’t matter too much because the luggage hasn’t arrived yet. It takes a while until someone notices that our luggage is on a different carousel. We pass through customs with the bags, although Patrick is singled out and has to hand over his fruit.

Cuba - Old cars beautify the cityscape in Cuba

In the arrivals hall, our guide Abel is waiting for us. He will accompany us for the next two weeks. He points out the currency exchange and leads us to the bus that takes us to our hotel in Havana. After freshening up in the hotel room, we head out into Havana in the evening. It’s dark now, and with almost no functioning streetlights, the streets have a strange appearance. I don’t feel quite at home yet. In other cities, you might avoid streets like this for safety. At a harbor-side restaurant, we have Cuba’s specialty: chicken with rice and fries. During dinner, we’re accompanied by a small band playing Cuban music, which adds to the atmosphere. After dinner, we walk through the city center to a hotel with a rooftop terrace. From the sixth floor, we have a view over dark Havana and the harbor. It turns out that three travelers have missed the group. Abel goes to find them. Most of the travelers on the terrace gradually see the lights go out. By now, it’s 11:30 p.m., and we’ve been up for almost 24 hours. Abel quickly reunites the group—they had gone to the restroom at the restaurant and missed our departure. Once the group is complete, we all walk back to the hotel together. Just after midnight, I turn out the light.