Cuba: A Q&A Guide To Getting Ripped Off

Typical scenes of La Habana

Cuba. It's the place to go right now. With the lifting of the US Embargo and a softening on social reforms put in place by Fidel back in the 60s, it's easier than ever to travel in Cuba. Easier is a relative term, though. It's not the straight-forward travel we're used to. We couldn't book anything ahead. We spent more time worrying about money than ever, and even then it didn't stop us from getting ripped off. We ate the same thing for dinner every night. And I almost chose to stay on and marry a horse and cart driver from Trinidad. Well, not really, but everything else is just Cuba. We have tried to provide answers and information on the main questions a traveller might have before heading to Cuba. Read on, but be prepared, there's a lot to tell, so it's a long one!

Looking for a reliable, affordable and good-for-your-health mode of transport? 

You won't find it. Not the trifecta anyway.

Individually, each mode on offer in Cuba has it's perks. The CUC-priced buses are overpriced but mostly reliable. Interestingly, they tend to leave early, which is great if you're on the bus. Not great if you've got the time wrong or are still pulling your pants up in the unsanitary bus station baño which you have to pay for the privilege to use. We did have to wait three hours for the bus from Playa Giron to Trinidad (only a one and half hour journey in itself), and the German lads waiting with us had the theory that the bus wouldn't be that late, as the lady who sold us our bus tickets was in cahoots with the taxi drivers and wanted to get them fares. No, the bus was going to be that late. And so we waited!

The trains are cheap but reportedly incredibly unreliable. We thought we might try and get on a train from Camaguey to Moron (great name!) as there wasn't a bus  and the only other method was by taxi. After much wandering around and asking in rudimentary Spanish, we got the information we needed for the train leaving the next day, but the lady we were staying with said the trains were never on time, or even better, just didn't run at all. For all we knew, the train might have run fine and she also wanted a fare for her taxi driver friend, but we weren't willing to risk it. 

The final option, which we used if the buses were full, not running to where we needed, or the driver was willing to take the same fare as the bus, was private taxis. They were convenient for pick up and drop off at our accommodation and much quicker than the buses, but there was the question of the effect on our health. The cars we had were old, mainly Soviet-era Ladas, which meant they belched toxic fumes both into the exterior and interior environs. Not fun on a multi-hour trip.  Pretty sure I lost a few brain cells on these journeys!

In all, as always you choose based on what you're willing to pay and how much time you have. If it's not possible by bus for whatever reason, the taxis are not unaffordable, but take a surgical mask to preserve your health! And check, double check and triple check the price before you leave. You don't want the surprise of having to pay an extra 10 CUC for drop off at your accommodation when you arrive on the outskirts of town!

Looking for somewhere to stay that won't break the bank? 

It's possible (but only since 2011!).

Fidel Castro relinqished power to his brother Raul in 2011 so for the first time in 52 years, (basically since Communism came in), Cubans were once again able to buy and sell their own properties. This return to privatisation meant the birth of the casa particular (CP): essentially a bed and breakfast without the breakfast (you can pay an extra 5 CUC per person for breakfast which is expensive but there's not a lot of other options). Every third house in Cuba, it seems, is being offered as an affordable accomodation option. It's competitive, expecially in the low season when there are less tourists to go around; and price and quality vary a alot, with a room going from anywhere between 15 CUC up to 40 CUC per night. We paid 25 CUC per night on average, but we weren't fussy and as long as we had a bathroom and fan/air con we were happy. 

Without regular internet access available to us, we were in the hands of the CP owners to help us book our onward accommodation. They have quite the national network in place and everyone knows someone in the next town who will take you in. We would be met at the bus station at the other end by someone holding up a sign with (close approximations of) our names, whether we'd asked our previous host to arrange it or not! There is always the option of trying to negotiate with the mob of CP owners who will be 'patiently' waiting at the entrance to the bus station (read: literally fighting each other to get to you and very reluctant to take no for an answer!), and you might get yourself a good deal if your language skills are adequate. Or you could simply walk the streets and ring the doorbell of a building that strikes your fancy (all CPs have to be registered with the government and are easily distinguished by a blue symbol by the door) and negotiate with the owner. Try to barter, it's part of the Cuban culture and they're used to it! (Keep in mind we were there in low season and I imagine you might not have so many options in peak season so it might be best to always have your CP owner book ahead or do it yourself). They also offer dinner, and sometimes lunch, which is perhaps more expensive than we would normally pay for meals, but the portions were always huge. In Playa Giron, we even managed to sample the local delicacy, crocodile (cocodrillo en Españgol), which was surprisingly delicious! 

There are still government-run hotels which have questionable quality and are largely patronised by locals, but now international companies are opening private hotels left right and centre, particularly along the popular northern coast beaches. We booked into an all-inclusive resort for 5 nights which was a welcome break from backpacking. The Melia Jardines del Rey (and not the Melia Cayo Coco as we unfortunately made the mistake of going to the wrong hotel initially!) is situated on Cayo Coco, one island of an archipelago with sandy-white beaches and beautiful blue water. Throw in unlimited food and drink, heaps of pools and activities and we were pretty happy! The only time we left the hotel was to catch a hop-on, hop-off bus up to Playa Pilar (on Cayo Guillermo), cited as Ernest Hemingway's favourite beach. We weren't overly impressed, but like we've always thought, all beaches have been spolit for us being from Australia.

The Melia Jardines del Rey

In all, you get what you pay for. Want basic accommodation living with the locals? Barter your way to a casa particular. Want to relax for a bit and get a break from bartering/being ripped off? Definitely check into one of the all-inclusives at Cayo Coco/Varadero/Guardalavaca. Hostel or something else? It hasn't made it to Cuba. Yet. 

If the price isn't explicitly stated, is it safe to assume it'll be about the same as eveyrthing else that is listed?

NO! This is important. Read on.

The rule of Cuban price-lists is if it isn't written down, it's fair game. You can charge the unsuspecting gringo whatever the hell you want, no matter how exorbitant it may seem. So when they order a huge plate of food for the equivalent of $1.50, it's perfectly acceptable that a can of (generic, Cuban-brand) coke will be more than that. Never mind that in the restaurant next door the same can (listed on the menu) is only $0.50.  Or, if the listed lunch menu boasts meat-and-rice dishes for $1.20, it is more than acceptable to charge $2 for an egg at breakfast. Because it's not listed. We made the mistake of thinking it would only be about 15c an egg, as we'd seen advertised at lunchtime, hence our shock when the bill came when we'd ordered four of them.

This is Cuba. If you're aware of it, it will frustrate the hell out of you. If you're not, well, be prepared. But if it doubt, ask!

What's the go with the dual currencies?

In a nutshell, it's a way for locals to continue to live cheaply, and for tourists to get ripped off.

Don't get us wrong, we've come across tourist and local menus with vastly different prices, but we've never come across a country where a dual currency seems to be in place with the sole purpose of ripping off tourists. This is an exaggeration of course, but some of the locals view it this way. To give you a quick overview, the Cuban Convertible (or CUC) is the tourist currency and is pegged to the US dollar (which is strange because the USD is like the black sheep of currencies to Cubans). The CUC equates to 25 Cuban Pesos (CUP or moneda nationale), and they even look similar to the untrained eye. We heard the frequent gripe that tourists would pay for their purchases (often drinks in a bar where the lighting isn't so great) with CUC and get their change back in CUP. So your $2 beer would actually cost you more like $20. We were fortunate enough not to have this happen. But I think that the people who had this happen unknowingly were better off! We often knew we were being ripped off because we had to pay in CUC, but were powerless to do anything. Take, for example, that bicycle taxis cost 1 CUP (4c) for locals, but 1 CUC ($1) for tourists. Now that's daylight robbery!

Another little quirk to note is that you can't withdraw money from ATMs in Cuba. Well, we couldn't anyway. Fortunately, we were aware of this before we arrived but it meant we had to budget for thirty days in a country we had never been to. Not easy. We've never been so budget-conscious in all our travels, and not because we wanted to be. So some advice: Bring more money than you think you'll need (Canadian dollars or Euros are the most widely accepted). Don't bring USD or you'll be charge an extra 10% conversion fee.  Change half of what you bring when you arrive at the airport. Use the Cadecas (money exchanges) in major cities to change more money as you need to . Avoid needing to change any CUC back to your currency of choice when you leave or you'll lose CAD$120 in conversion fees! Just one last little parting withdrawal from our pockets that we couldn't do anything about...

Is it possible to go to an all-inclusive and not make yourself sick?

You might remember that our motto in Vegas was "Excess is Best." That might give you an idea of where this is going. 

As a taster to the resort we would go to later, we went to an all-inclusive day club at Caleta Buena, 8km out of Playa Giron. Playa Giron, by the way, is the town that sits at the mouth of the infamous Bay of Pigs, where the CIA-backed rebel forces attempted to invade Cuba to overthrown Fidel Castro and his socialist government. The town itself is  small with a couple of really nice local beaches. It was at these beaches and Caleta Buena where Callum got his fill of snorkelling over a few days. The only difference was that at Caleta Buena, we spent the day drinking more cervezas and mojitos than we really needed. I was sick. That's all I need to say.

Caleta Buena - Don't mind if I do

Fast forward two weeks to the beautiful Cayo Coco and the all-inclusive resort we booked into for 5, yes you read that right, 5 nights. How would we ever survive? The first few days we took it easy. Tennis in the morning, pool or beach during the day, and a few quiet drinks in the afternoon and evening. Think I was even in bed by 8pm one night (and not for the reason you're thinking). But then the realisation we only had a couple of nights left sunk in, and we took things up a gear. 

Anyone who is a How I Met Your Mother fan would know that nothing good ever happens after 2am. After over eight years, many of them travelling together, Callum has finally reached the conclusion that nothing good ever happens after Nicole goes to bed. One night, I'd had my fill after a buffet breakfast and lunch, three course dinner, more sparkling wine than anyone ever really needs, and a few hours of dancing at a foam party, so I went to bed. Callum kicked on. I was the lucky recipient of a 6am phone call from the front desk asking me to "Please pick up your husband. He causing a disturbance." When I arrived, some Canadian told me they were going to throw Callum in the 'hoosegow' (which I later googled and learned it meant lock-up) if I didn't take him away. The expressions on the faces of the staff standing around where Callum was sitting told me this Canadian wasn't joking. Callum didn't have much to recollect about the night's proceedings after I left, but needless to say, nothing really good happened. We spent our last day at the all-inclusive wallowing in rather exceptional hangovers. 

So, in answer to the question, despite our early best intentions, it always comes to the same answer. No, we can't. 

What about internet? Is it easy to access? 

No. And you'll realise that you've become the kind of person who would push over a little old lady just to get it.

Given that Cubans have only been allowed mobile phones since all those reforms started in 2008 and hence wifi is quite the novelty, we found it quite difficult to access. Not just because it's only available in public squares, but because you have to buy these internet cards at the local telephone company (Etecsa), and that's where we learnt the procedure for queueing in Cuba. For starters, the queue is out on the street, and you are only admitted periodically by a guard who stands on the door (this is the same for banks, too, FYI). We followed procedure as instructed by Lonely Planet, asking "El ultimo?" ("The last?"), and found our place at the back of the queue. Then, stupidly, I remarked to Callum how impressed I was about the orderly nature of what appeared to be a chaotic mess of a line. Two minutes later it became quite apparent it was a free for all. The guard would open the door and there was a surge from every place in that queue, and of course the law-abiding gringos missed the first, and the second, and the third admission. Fool me three times and I get out the elbows! Irrespective of whether it was man, woman or child I needed to push past to get in that door, I finally got inside and triumphantly joined another queue, albeit this was of the seated variety so it was easier to negotiate. Make sure you bring your passport though. Totally makes sense you'd need it to buy a 2 CUC internet card. And note that there will be people who buy up all of the cards and then sell them for 3+ CUC  on the street. So if don't want the hassle to save 1 CUC or so, just do that. We probably should have!

Can you drink the tap water?

We didn't. And I wouldn't. Not unless you want to spend a lot of time in the - you know where I'm going here. 

Don't pay anything more than 70 cents CUC for a 2L bottle. The government fixes the price so if you pay more, you're being ripped off.

The highlights of Cienfuegos

What activities are recommended?

There are a lot that are worthwhile. But here's the story about how I almost ended up married to that horse and cart driver from Trinidad... 

In theory, a nice way to pass a day is to grab a bike and cycle the 15km from Trinidad out to Playa Ancon. Take the route that passes through the little seaside village of La Boca and stopping off at the snorkelling coves along the way. That's in theory. 

The highlights of Trinidad

In reality, it would have been smart to give the wheels of my bike a once over! Back when Fidel was putting in place his social reforms in the early 60s, he brought in a heap of Chinese-made bikes for locals to use to get around. The wheels on my bike, and the bike itself, were likely from this era. So it wasn't surprising that half way into our journey, I had a puncture. On closer inspection, there was patching on the patching on the patching of said puncture. I tried to pedal further but made it maybe another km before it was oh-so-flat. A horse and cart just happened to be passing at the time and offered me a ride back to town, and Callum bartered the driver down to 8 CUC and they loaded me in the back while Callum continued his merry way to the snorkelling beaches. The journey was pleasant until about 2km out of town when the driver and his young companion started with the questions. Where was I from? Was I married? Would I leave Callum for the driver? Did I have any friends I could bring over? I feigned ignorance hoping they would give it up but I think that might have sealed my fate. They unceremoniously dumped me on the edge of town and I had to literally carry the bike back to our CP given the wheel wouldn't even turn. Only one man stopped to ask if I needed help, everyone just stared (or laughed!) at the blonde gringo huffing and puffing her way though the midday heat carrying a bike! 

A fitting bridal carriage?

Some others that we highly recommend: A walk through the mogotes in Viñales, including a sample of the finest local cigars; snorkelling in Playa Giron (Playa Coco was the best); ferry ride out to Castillo de Jagua in Cienfuegos; hiking up to Cerro de la Vigia and going to a street party in Trinidad; hiking to Comandancia de la Plata, Fidel's mountain rebel camp in the early days of the Revolution, in the Sierra Maestra mountains; and making the pilgrimage to all of the Che Guevera memorials in Santa Clara. 

The Che pilgrimage of Santa Clara 

My interest in Cuba stemmed from year eight history, where Miss Child thought it was prudent to teach fourteen years olds about the Cuban Missile Crisis, so big thanks to her. Combining the history, the variety of scenery and environments, and the multitude of different activities and adventures, and we had a pretty amazing trip. The people were sometimes a challenge, but given what Cubans have gone through over the years (the "Special Period in a Time of Peace" is the most pertinent example), and you have to appreciate they're survivors, no doubt. But with the United States-Cuba Thaw and the influx of tourists, the infrastructure and locals are trying to keep up, and some aspects are succeeding more than others. The daily changes to how things run, plus some serious quirks and hell of a lot of contradiction, it's all just part and parcel to travel in Cuba.  So if you're planning on going anytime soon, the information above is probably already out of date. Keep your wits about you and you'll get a lot out of this dynamic country. But consider yourself warned!

Smoking cigars, riding around the countryside and Fidel memorabilia - the quintessential Cuban experience

Quebec & Ontario: All Hail the Pinball Champion!

Toronto Skyline viewed from the islands

After several days out in the wilderness of the Maritimes, it was high time for a whistle stop tour of the big cities of Quebec and Ontario. Montreal and Toronto were givens, but we had heard little about Quebec City and Ottawa and were pleasantly surprised by how worthwhile it was to stop off there for a night or two. 

Quebec City will always be fond to me: it's only the second time I've beaten Callum in an "athletic" pursuit. It's also home to the Chateau Fairmont, proclaimed the most photographed hotel in the world. It is worthy of many a photo, and Callum obliged willingly, but how they work that out I'll never know. Other highlights were walking the city fortifications (Quebec City being the only walled city in Canada) and through the streets of upper and lower old town. Oh, and MacFly's, where for the price of a pint, you can whoop your boyfriend's arse at pinball. Who knew I was so good? Or just better than him at least!

The Chateau Fairmont

Somehow, we managed to get lost in a city park in Montreal. Mont Royal boasts panoramic city views from Kondiaronk Lookout and it's almost compulsory to head up there at twilight armed with a bottle of red. The thing about street drinking in Montreal is, as long as you have some form of food with you, whether it's a gourmet hamper or a packet of chips, it's considered a picnic. We went somewhere in the middle, and along with our friend Jana (who is from Luxembourg, we met back in Chile, travelled with a bit in Brazil, and who generously put us up in her new hometown of Montreal), had a lovely evening watching the sun go down. We soon learnt that Mont Royal is not well-lit in the dark and spent a while trekking down through the woods with only Callum's red camera light to guide us. Needless to say we earned our pint at the brewpub we went to afterwards. 

A bottle of red, some snacks and a pretty decent view

Montreal is also home to Schwartz's. If you like meat, you'll like Schwartz's. Callum had the famous smoked meat sandwich and I sampled the smoked meat poutine. Delicious. Other worthwhile sights were St Joseph's Oratory (stumbled upon at 1am on our way home from the pub, and revisited the next day to get the full night to day experience Callum seems to have developed a need for - but for this place, it was worth it!), the site of the 1976 Montreal Olympics (where Callum, knowing his place in the world, was pleased to come away with a bronze medal. In what I don't know), wandering around Old Town and the waterfront, and a subway ride out to Parc Jean-Drapeau.

 St Joseph's Oratory

Callum winning at life...well coming third! And welcome to Schwartz's

Ottawa was just an overnight stop but we were glad we made it. More day to night photography! Parliament Hill could almost be mistaken for two different buildings if not for the iconic Peace Tower giving it away. I say this because the back view from Nepean Point and the front view from, well in front, are very different but equally impressive. The Ottawa locks and the Rideau Canal, along which people can ice skate to work in the wintertime, are also worth seeing. 

Parliament Hill

Since leaving Toronto, there seems to be a regular echo of "So many good photos!" from Callum who was in his element when we caught the ferry over to the Toronto Islands and watched the sun set over the city skyline. We also enjoyed the walk up to and view from Casa Loma. The city was abuzz with the Bluejays progressing further into the MBL post-season, and Callum regaled me with a blow by blow description of the Game 3 sweep of the Texans. I'm a lucky girl. He was, after all,  trying to get his fill before the inevitable sports drought that would occur in Cuba! 

The Maritimes & Newfoundland: Seeking the 'Real' Canadian Experience

Ten Mile Pond viewed from Gros Morne Mountain

It's pretty likely you'll be greeted with a "G'day" by the Garbo Express lifty in Whis (given Australian's penchant for shortening every word possible, that's the chairlift attendent on the Ganbanzo Express chairlift in Whistler if you're unsure). The guy who takes your order for a genuine Canadian Caesar and poutine combo at the local pub in Banff? More likely from Adelaide than Alberta. Canada is no secret to Australians. We flock to the ski resorts, especially in the south-western provinces, like Canadian geese to water. You'd be forgiven for thinking that 24 hour plane ride to get here was just a bad dream and you'd never left Australia. There's plenty of good reasons for this, but it sometimes felt like our 'Canadian experience' was a little watered down. 

We were well overdue to break out of the mold and so, perhaps seeking a more authentic Canadian experience, we headed east. The Maritime provinces are New Brunswick, Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island (NB, NS & PEI in later references) and we also headed over to Newfoundland. There's a lot to love about these provinces. The ocean is never far away, the smaller population means cities are more like towns, and there are a multitude of different cultures being represented, including, Acadian, Scottish, Irish & English. 

The influences of these other cultures are obvious. For example, where else outside of Scotland or Ireland would you find a cèilidh (the traditional Gaelic social gathering) being advertised in every town hall you pass? We went out in St John's, the capital of Newfoundland, which has one of the highest bars per capita in North America. Yes, the locals say it's the highest, but I don't know if that's a compliment? A one-man-band was performing in one pub which was full of people who been at a charity golf day (it was getting to the messy stage, given one gentleman went over in front of us as we walked in) and it turned into an impromptu cèilidh right there and then. And later on, in the one of many Irish pubs, there were two guys singing gaelic folk songs which was really enjoyable.

St. John's Harbour viewed from Signal Hill

Contending with all this dancing and merrymaking, there is a lot of natural beauty we managed to take in. The Hopewell Rocks, NB, were strange rock formations eroded away over time by the ocean. In Cape Breton Highlands Provincial Park, NS, the Skyline trail afforded beautiful views of the ocean and highland area, as well as a close encounter with your friendly local moose. PEI's beaches are a mixed bag of sheer red bluffs and squeaky (literally!) white sand.  

Hopewell Rocks - home of the largest tides in the world

Cape Breton Highlands Provincial Park

Newfoundland was a real outdoor enthusiasts dream, with Gros Morne National Park being the jewel in the crown. We hiked up to the park's namesake, which involved scaling Ferry Gulch, replete with loose boulders as far as the eye could see. The view overlooking Ten Mile Pond was worth it! The short walk to Western Brook Pond was pleasant the second time around (the first time, the weather was not so nice), I only wish the guidebooks told you that 'that' photo (the one you see when you Google Gros Morne) was only accessible by spending $250+ to hire a private guide or hiking for 4-5 days!

Gros Morne National Park

We filled our cultural quota as well. One of the books I loved to read as a girl was Anne of Green Gables and no trip to PEI is complete without a trip to said Green Gables and the site of LM Mongomery's childhood home in Cavendish. Callum left me to my own devices and I wandered down the Homestead Trail and into the Haunted Woods (which if you've read the book, you'll know the reference!). 

Anne of Green Gables

Over in Newfoundland, we made the long drive along the Viking Trail up to L'Anse Aux Meadows, the only authenticated Viking site in North America and the earliest evidence of Europeans in North America. The site itself is small, it might even seem a little underwhelming after how far you've driven, but they've done a great job of recreating what the area might have looked like when the Vikings were settled there (which, we found out, was only for about ten years in total), and the costumed staff aren't as gimmicky as you'd think. All in all, was worth the journey!

L'Anse Aux Meadows

But, where was this 'real Canadian experience' I was seeking? In truth, we all know it doesn't really exist. There's no such thing. We could have looked all we liked but really, we found it in the community hip hop festival in Halifax, the cèilidh in that lively pub in St John's, and amongst the trees and waters of Gros Morne. Although, when it all comes down to it, I just took the last sip of my Tim Horton's coffee as I finish this, so maybe it doesn't get any more Canadian than that. Ay?