Having just arrived home after seven days of debauchery in Castro country, I thought it would be appropriate to write a few words about the experience. It’s my hope that this will help all those involved better remember the trip, which was truly epic. Note: names have been changed to protect the guilty.
The first thing you notice on your arrival in Varadero is that Cubans don’t spend much time in airports. If they did, there’s no way they would let what can only be described as an old gymnasium pass for an international airport. Even by third-world standards the Varadero airport is an absolute travesty. And trust me, we had time to explore all 1000 square feet of the structure (I’m only exaggerating a bit) because we had a four-hour delay on our departure.
Arriving at our resort at around midnight, we weren’t immediately able to assess the situation; however, one thing was clear: this was a legit 5-star resort (even by Dominican/Mexican standards) – the question was, how would we feel in the morning? Let me tell you. I don’t care how nice a resort is or how much free booze is available, if you're on vacation in the tropics and you’re wind burn is darker than you’re sun tan, you’re not going to be happy. This certainly applied to us. We just happened to land in Cuba during a northerly cold snap. Yup, for the first four nights we enjoyed lows of 7 degrees at night. Thankfully, we brought hoodies, but this is not the way you want to start your vacation. In fact, four of the first seven days were a mix of cloud and wind, leading to an ingenious system of beach forts that allowed us to snag short bursts of sunlight mixed with long bursts of clouds while shielded somewhat from the winds. I don’t want to work this hard to catch sunshine on my vacation. But what could we do. Thankfully days 5-7 were nice and sunny (although not incredibly hot). This was great. What wasn’t great was the fact that on two of those days nobody was allowed in the ocean because of jellyfish. And unless you’re Dirty Sanchez it’s pretty hard to come back with a tan after only 2.5 days of sun, but that’s what we had to work with and I think we made the most of it.
With respect to service, I have to say that for the most part the service was excellent. Unlike some of the other resorts closer to Varadero proper, there was nobody hustling you on the beach. Inside the restaurants and bars drinks were refilled pronto. However, I cannot understand how the newest 5-star resort in Cuba doesn’t have bartenders who know to make a mojito. Is this not the country that created the damn drink? We drank way too many Cuban beers simply to avoid the poorly made mixed drinks. And sitting in the hotel lobby with about a dozen beer cans on your table does not endear you to the staff. The a la carte restaurants were great though, particularly the Japanese one. It was literally no better or worse than the Japanese village and the Cuban restaurant (lobster tails and seafood) wasn’t bad either. However, I pity the fool who dined at the “gourmet” restaurant where Ernesto was waiting tables. This guy could not have been more cold if he were waiting tables outside in Edmonton in January. First, he inspected our dinner receipt for a solid minute without even looking at us (nobody else even looked at them). Yeah, that’s it Ernesto, I brought over my circa 1967 typewriter and printed out fake dinner receipts on it just to fuck with you! We then waited a solid 50 minutes for our main course. Did I mention it was 7 degrees and we were eating outside? I don’t know what the future holds for Ernesto but I don’t think a career in the service industry is in the cards.
Weather and service aside, by far the high- and low-point of the trip was the guests. It actually got to the point where we started to take photos and video of certain guests so that we would remember them down the road. And at the top of this list was a young Russian man named “the Figure skater”. Now I’m not saying he was gay, but I have never seen a man so non-chalantly turn away perfect 10s who wanted some action. And he proved two useful rules of thumb to always remember: 1) In Russia, the measure of a man is the length of his mullet; and 2) Women are attracted to the strangest, douchiest, greasiest men. Now, the first time we spotted Figure skater we knew he was special. We saw him the first night prancing around at the resort bar swatting away smoking hot broads like they were nothing. However, it wasn’t until we saw him in his tourquoise silk top and suspenders that we knew how truly remarkable this guy actually was. I am not lying to you when I say that this outfit was so over-the-top that we immediately started devising schemes to pose for pictures near him in the hopes that we might also capture him in one of them (we did snag a photo of him at the Japanese restaurant later in the trip). I don’t care what anybody says, there’s only one thing a person could be thinking about when putting on that outfit and it isn’t “man I’m gonna get so many chicks with this shirt/suspenders combo.” The hilarity of this guy, so obviously gay, having girls continually approach him only to get shut down before trying again, was incredible. And before you ask what we were doing watching him, I would counter, have you ever stopped to look at a car wreck? I thought so.
I wish I didn't have to report on the other "winners" among the guests we encountered, but sadly I do -- Canadians can be incredibly douchey too. Some clarification here: over half of the tourists in Cuba at any given time are probably Canadian (probably more). This is partly due to a lack of Americans. Therefore, by default and thanks largely to percentages, there are going to be some real gems among the Canadians vacationing in Cuba -- and we saw some shiny ones. My first experience with a Canadian on the trip occurred on the second night at the resort bar when I ran into the ubiquitous Toronto-asshole. We had encountered these creatures previously in the Dominican Republic and they generally fit the following description: late 30s/early 40s, recently laid-off autoworker/manufacturer who booked his trip BEFORE he got laid off. Think rig pig in Edmonton and you get the idea. These guys are pretty much pissed off at the world and want everybody to know it. Now, how picking fights with people can be on a person's to-do list while on vacation in a tropical paradise is beyond me, however that's what this T-bag (Toronto douchebag) did with me. As I was getting a drink he got in my face and asked me why I was hitting on his girlfriend? Now at this point I was pretty much 100% sober and hadn't even had time to talk to a girl, let alone this guy's girlfriend. However, given that he was going bald, about 5'6", and physically UN-intimidating, I decided to clarify a few things with him (okay maybe I wasn't totally sober). I told him that I did not hit on his girlfriend and asked him to point her out. He proceeded to point her out, to which I replied, "Dude, I would never hit on your girlfriend, look at her!" He didn't really appreciate this and wanted to "take this outside" but I wasn't having it. I find gainfully employed civil servants have a lot more to lose than broke, mid-life crisis-having sheet metal workers so I told him to get out of my face while a couple other friends we had made from Toronto separated us and cooled things down. The next day I talked with those friends who explained what had happened. I had NOT talked to the guys girlfriend. She HAD whispered something in his ear that got him mad at me but it was basically a case of the girlfriend wanting to see a little drama that night and she was seen to be smiling while her boyfriend and I had our little argument. For her sake, I hope they serve beer in hell (yeah she looked like a beer drinker, as in beer bong). The other Canadian that left an impression on us was a guy we called "The Cowboy." I don't think we ever saw this guy when he wasn't drunk, and we saw him in the mornings on numerous occasions. This guy's behavior was incredible but what made it that much worse was that everyone knew he was Canadian. Why? Because he made sure he wore his 4 gallon cowboy hat everywhere he went. He was like a walking billboard for obnoxious/loud Canadian. Look, if you're going to be an asshole on your vacation, please don't clearly identify yourself as Canadian. Is that too much to ask?
All in all though, solid trip. Can't wait for the next one with Dirty Sanchez et al.
