Trinidad! A perfect little town around a perfect little square. But still as Cuban as the rest of them. We had been warned about hustlers who would go out of their way to lure you to a 'casa' of an 'amigo' to earn commission, but we arrived safe and sound with out any hassle. A reflection of the tranquility which is part of this town.
A town one strolls through leisurely, stopping around every corner to take just one more picture! Being amazed by pastel colored walls along slightly wider uneven cobbled streets. With scenes in contrasting colors. A green bike against blue and yellow walls. A a rusty red old motorbike leaning against the pavement by walls in weathered teal and rusty browns. Even black becomes a color with this backdrop of sherbet shaded plastered walls.
Endless pretty-door-in-pretty-wall pictures. Again the clip-clop of hooves as the horse carts pass by. And the, by now, familiar old Ford or Chevy driving by.
Behind a white wooden door in a bright blue and yellow wall sits Casa Smith. With Odalis calling the shots in between her patience playing breaks on one of the very few computers we have so far come across. And the feet dragging old man who tells long stories in spanish. And tries to sell us his Cohiba cigars while serving us our first cup of coffee. And again at dinner time. And again while having breakfast the next morning.
We go out at 7 o clock in the morning to wander the streets and watch the lovely colors in the rising sun. At night we sit on the rooftop terrace drinking Bucaneros and staring at the circle aournd the moon. Here in Trinidad the world is seemingly at peace.
After breakfast we visit Museo Histórico Municipal just off Plaza Mayor. The view from the top of the tower on this clear day is worth every CUC cent of the entrance fee.The visit to Galería de Arte with displays of pottery and jewelry is less successful. The upper floor is closed and it is unclear when exactly it opens again - after 2 this afternoon or sometime in the next century?
We continue our cultural journey in search of pottery factory Taller Alfarero only to get wonderfully lost in the tiny streets and get held up by a wonderfully weathered old church. When we eventually find the factory, we watch workers carving patterns in the pots fabricated out of local clay and sticking them into horribly hot brick kilns to be baked for up to 16 hours.
The next afternoon we drove over the potholed road out to the Javira Waterfall, paid the 9 CUC entrance fee and walk the almost 3 kilometers up the hill. We swim where the water plunges into a bottomless pool. And behind falling water into the half dark mysterious cave.
We then drive slowly along the waters edge to Playa Ancón. We swim in the lukewarm water. And sit under the parasols of dried banana leaves soaking up the afternoon sun. I draw patterns in the sand and decorate them with little bits of coral which lies scattered in the white sand. I feel the sun on my salty skin, a feeling I remember from many summer holidays on South African beaches. A feeling I so often long for now that I live in Europe. Please let this moment go on forever .....
On our last morning we woke up to the sounds of the school starting on the other side of the courtyard wall. We stand on the balcony watching the children listening to the boring speeches, trying hard not to let the teachers see them staring at the curious tourists above.
With addresses of casas in the next 3 towns, all friends of Odalis, we drive one last time over the cobbled streets, waiting on horsecarts and bicycles, and out onto the quiet high way to our next destination.
No comments:
Post a Comment