Day Two: Monday, February 16

Driving east from Habana, our bus hugged the coastline, passing oil wells, both Cuban and Canadian-Cuban joint ventures. We had a break at the overlook for the Bacunayagua bridge, the highest bridge (360 ft.) in Cuba. The Valle de Yumurí is lovely, with tall palm trees and the overlook is typical of those that accommodate tourists. We were headed to Matanzas, a provincial capital and a historical cultural center in the 19th century, due to the wealth of the sugar exports.


On the Plaza de la Vigía, by the San Juan River and under the shelter of an arcade, we found the Ediciones Vigía, where handcrafted books bring the book closer to the people, where people listen to “the breathing of the book.” Editions of 250 copies of poems, essays, reviews and stories are made by hand with inexpensive paper and natural materials.

Another highlight of Matanzas was visiting an elementary school, the Palacio Pionero. Small classes of children were diligently chanting their lessons and the group in the biblioteca recited for us! No photographs allowed, but the sounds of their voices left their imprint. Matanzas was the home of the Cuban poet Bonifacio Byrne and I guess only a busload of librarians would listen to his poem “Mi Bandera” recited as we rode along. He wrote it when he returned to Cuba after the 1898 War of Independence and was shocked to see the U.S. flag flying alongside the Cuban one:

“Do you not see it? My flag is that one / that has never been mercenary / and on which a star shines brighter, / the more solitary it is.”


Further east, out on the peninsula, we found the Varadero beach and had a lovely lunch at the Albacora. There was time for a swim before heading back to Habana. This long stretch of white sand was once the property of the rich (think DuPont), but is now developed by hotel chains.


After dinner we headed over to the fortress San Carlos de La Cabaña for the Cañonazo. At 9:00 PM exactly, the cannon is fired to tell people that the city gates are closed and the bay is blocked by a chain. Well, that’s the way it was in the 18th century and it is still done today. The colonial uniforms and drums are all very reminiscent of Williamsburg, but it’s all commanded in Spanish!