Cohiba Archives - Wandering North

Asia India Nepal Trip 2016

A lost afternoon in Delhi

I tried to sleep off my sickness; a plan that was partly successful. I awoke a bit less achy and a bit hungry. Moving slowly, I had breakfast at the hostel. The rooftop was crowded full of young backpackers, traveling in large groups or as couples. I did find one other solo traveler to chat with and we swapped stories over our puri, bread, and bananas.

Today there were just a couple of things I wanted to see, but mostly I was looking forward to the journey. I took the Metro south (i am seriously in love with this metro system – cheap, easy to navigate, women-only cars, and the trains come every minute, literally. Signage told me that obstructing the metro car doors can land you four years in prison, but I can see why with that marvelous efficiency.) I got off near the Lodi Gardens, which i wanted to visit, and promptly turned in the wrong direction and spent the next hour lost, wandering through some quasi-residential neighbourhood, which was quite pleasant – leafy and a bit quiet with a slightly diminished cacophony of horns.

So I walked back to the metro station, this time turning right instead of left, and went to the lovely and leafy Lodhi gardens, which are dotted with mausoleums, ice cream vendors, and couples laying in the grass. I walked around for a while and then napped on a bench under a tree.

I then walked on a busy and uninspired road forever before stumbling upon the Lodhi Hotel, where I ducked in for a cigar and a beverage. The hotel is super fancy and i was sure I would be denied entry, but they welcomed me and set me up in a pretty courtyard with birds and statues, and i smoked a Cohiba Behike and generally chilled out.

Back on the street i walked and was trying to find Hazrat Nizam-ud-din Dargah (a shrine) I never did find it but I sure had a great time looking. I ended up in a labyrinthine marketplace, which was very clearly in the Muslim part of town. The signs had switched to Arabic, the men wore tradition Middle Eastern clothes, and the women were covered head to toe to fingertip in black (a color choice I can get behind), with not even slits for their eyes (a visual impairment i cannot). The market was great. Crowded and noisy. People selling carpets and wall hangings with passages from the Koran, halal butchers, sellers of dates and bananas. I had a great wander, but then I turned one corner and a bunch of men started shouting at me. Not angrily, but with urgency. I had stumbled into some entrance to a holy area, I think, but I couldn’t discern if they wanted me to take off my shoes or leave because it was men only. Either way, I politely backed up and turned around, but before leaving I bought a toothbrush, as I had dropped mine in a pool of stagnant water next to a toilet that morning.

From there I went to Humayun’s Tomb (which is not located on the lonely planet map as indicated) and visited the mid-16th C complex of tombs and gardens. It was beautiful.

I hired a tuk tuk (haggling successfully and theatrically) to take me back to the nearest Metro station and i returned to the hostel where I napped for too long. It is now 11pm and I am sitting on a balcony drinking ginger lemon honey tea and watching the activities in the street. The air is perfect and i feel good.
Tomorrow I leave for Kathmandu.

Central America / Caribbean Cuba

Our Woman in Havana

I was undecided about what to do with my final day in Havana. Obviously there would be walking, but i wanted some sort of loose destination. Musing over my morning cigar, i discovered that every Sunday afternoon there is an area with live rumba music. Good enough. Little did i then know that the destination would be even better than live music. I set off through Havana Vieja, past Parque Central, down Calle San Rafael for many blocks, until tourists thinned out and were replaced with local residents doing their daily activities. I tried not to be too obvious as i snapped photos.

I found my way to my destination – Callejon de Hamel – wondering where the live music would be and whether i would even be able to find it. It wasn’t hard. The short street, closed to cars, is lined, crammed, and towered by art. Graffiti, sculpture. Benches made from painted, repurposed bathtubs, courtyards filled with scrap metal totems, the sides of buildings covered with murals…even some art studios, open for visiting.

There were a couple of cafes/studios which were filled with an acceptable mix of locals and visitors. Most of the locals were afrocuban and spoke good English and were happy to tell me about this neighborhood, the artists, and the free programs for autistic and disabled children provided there. I had the local drink – a Negro (like a mojito but with basil instead of mint) – bought a couple of cds of rumba music and took in the sights.

At noon the bands started to play. All percussionists, singers, and dancers. All but one were women and they played the most infectious music. The crown pressed in and climbed up the sides of the buildings to get a prime view. I stayed until the rains started and then headed back to old Havana for an early dinner.

I did of course, stop off for a final cigar at the Partagas Factory VIP room.

What glory! Back in old Havana i found a restaurant that served pizza! Not the barely warm white bread covered with a whisper of sauce and tasteless white cheese that is ubiquitous in Havana, but actual crispy, chewy pizza with tasty sauce and four vegetables. It was great. I celebrated by having a glass of wine and pair of Ramon Allones robustos. I enjoyed a chat with a couple of local travellers from Germany and listened to some decent jazz from the band on the corner.

I have to say, the food has been better than i expected in Havana. Everyone told me that as a non-egg-eating vegetarian i would have nothing to eat, so i packed granola bars, almonds, and cranberries. True, there is not a great variety for vegetarians and the food is bland, but there is lots to eat.

When the evening came i went to the Hotel Inglaterra where, despite its gorgeous appearance has dismal service and drinks, i met with Stripes’ friend Rosalita. Rosalita had mentioned the other night some no-longer-in-production Limited Edition Cohibas she had a line on. Stripes was leaving but i agreed to meet up and get the coveted cigars. I felt like a drug buyer as a sat on the patio, trying to look casual as i stirred the sugar at the bottom of my watery mojito and eyed the crowd for Rosalita’s face, looking at my watch occasionally. The covert nature of the transaction was entirely necessary as Rosalita could spend years in prison for selling us the cigars, as could the person she bought them from. I smoked a comically large cigar, which did nothing to help the invisibility i was seeking. Finally she showed up, sat down, and ordered a beer. We chatted for a bit about tattoos and the availability of American music in Cuba before i asked, “Do you have the cigars?” She nodded and, just below table height, opened a satchel just enough for me to look in and take a deep whiff of the leathery, barn-yardy smelling cigars. I slid an envelope of money to her across the table. She passed me the satchel of cigars under the table. We finished our drinks, i declined a drive, and i made my final way home, finishing my cigar just as i put the key into the lock.

Havana has been a good trip. Not particularly different or exciting, but enjoyable and relaxing. The best part was the cigar culture and cigar experiences and having some friends there to share that with and to open doors to experiences that i would not otherwise have had. Oh, i decided to keep count of the cigars (not counting cigarillos) i smoked and coffees i drank – for no particular reason other than curiosity. 9 days, 31 coffees, 40 cigars. That adds up to a good trip.

Central America / Caribbean Cuba

La Casa Del Musica

Thursday was another lazy day. The only plans we had was to have dinner with Stripes’ friend Ramón who is from Havana. I had a late start that day and then just went for a walk around the old city, stopping for a Bolivar at the La Casa Del Habano on Calle Mercaderes, which has a comfortable quartet of chairs for smoking and a another cigar and an espresso on Plaza de Armas.

I met up with Stripes and Noodles at 3ish. We did a spin around the plaza and i bought a beautiful book from 1870 or so on adultery and one of those Cuban Revolution trading card books that they sell everywhere. Despite their ubiquity, i still think they are pretty cool. From there we walked down to the arts and crafts market where we bought nothing, save for Stripes and Noodles acquiring a couple of rum filled coconuts for sipping. On the way back to my casa to drop off my books, rather than walking, i insisted, over Stripes and Noodles’ objections, that the three of us take one of the cute/cheezy coco taxis, which (barely) seats three. It was ridiculous, but very fun to zip through the narrow streets in a bright yellow ball on wheels.

We ended up at Parque Central, where we retired to the rooftop of the Hotel Parque Central for a few drinks, Cohiba Behikes, and the excellent view over the city.

We met Ramón at the Hotel Telegrafo for a drinks before we drove in his car to a restaurant in the Vedado area. Stripes had been there before and described it as “a hidden gem”. Hidden no more, because as we arrived we saw a tour bus outside and the place was crammed with tourists. The restaurant was good, with a lovely atmosphere and good food (including vegetarian options), and ponds of colorfully lit fish. Over dinner, Ramón told us about the trials of operating busineses and buying and selling cars and property in Cuba and the role played by the government in all things. As do most things in Havana, dinner went late, so by the time we left it was after 11pm and Stripes suggested that we head to La Casa Del Musica in Miramar. (I wanted to go to the grittier one in Havana Central, but i was outvoted.)

La Casa del Musica’s opening act didn’t start until midnight and the main act at 1am. We paid our cover and took out seat in the busy and freezing cold club. I immediately noticed one thing: no one was smoking. And then i saw flashing across the screen on stage (in Spanish) “no smoking”. I was horrified. When i imagined myself in a Havana music club, i always saw myself with a large cigar. Apparently the policy at this club had changed very recently. So i sat there in the ice cold, too fresh air and stirred my mojito sadly.

Fortunately i was distracted when the opening act started: two singers, and a bevy of dancers in feathered brassieres and headdresses with a small band playing salsa music. Despite the lack of a real dance floor, couples all around us stood up and began to salsa and shimmy. I remained sensibly seated.

The main act, Bambaleo, took the stage at 1:00. We were fading at that point, but i insisted that we stay for a couple of songs. The 16 member ensemble dazzled the audience with tempting salsa beats and vocals. It was good, but my eyes were heavy and the hour late, so we left after two songs. As we left, groups of what i was told were prostitutes entered, dressed festively, in search of visiting men.

Central America / Caribbean Cuba

Smoking not Eating

Yesterday i was super low energy, as i was suffering from a mixture of mild food poisoning and sleep deprivation. Nevertheless it was a good day. I shuffled my way over to the Partagas factory to meet Stripes and Noodles at the vip room for some Cohiba Behikes and coffee. We chatted with El Jefe a local photographer who showed us his work, and a doctor from Canada. After a couple hours there we went by taxi to a Casa del Habano run by the son of Alejandro Robaina, which was a treat. Noodles and El Jefe had lunch; Stripes and i, having no appetite, stuck to smoking. We has some piña coladas, more Cohibas and a Robaina torpedo. The humidors there were exquisite, featuring many cigars i had not seen in years. We sat there for hours smoking, and drinking (me mostly water). It was very relaxing.

We were going to catch a taxi back to Havana Vieja and call it an early night, but we saw a beautiful restaurant and decided to check it out. It was in a grand 1930s house but had opened as a restaurant only 11 days earlier. We settled in for more cigars and snacks. Surprisingly, the food was cheap and amazing. The food in Cuba is not good, but this was a welcome exception. I even managed to eat a few nibbles of cheese, bread, and olives.

From there we hopped into a 1950s chevy (not a taxi, just some guy’s car) and went to the Parque Central hotel for one final drink (me, more water) before Stripes and Noodles caught a taxi to their far flung hotel and i walked home for much needed sleep.

England Ethiopia Trip 2015 Europe United Kingdom

No Place Like London

When i was booking my flight to Ethiopia, i chose the one with the longest possible layover, which was through London. I had about 10 hours. Not a leisurely visit, but more than enough for a good afternoon.

I lived in London briefly from 1994-95 and loved it, but have not been back since. The idea of being back there was exciting and actually being there was awesome. In some small way i was able to tap into the excitement of young me arriving in London for the first time. I couldn’t stop smiling and i just wanted to walk around and see everything.

Of course though, i didn’t have time for everything, so i planned a strategic walk past some key sights and old haunts. I took the train to Westminster and caught a glimpse of Big Ben and Westminster Abbey, before walking up to Trafalgar Square.

I was struck by how lovely everything was and how thoroughly British everything is. Almost to the point of cliché. The architecture, monuments, flags, black cabs, red phone booths and double decker buses, chip shops, mind the gap, and every wonderful variation on the British accent you could imagine. Delightful. Trafalgar Square was teeming with people, but the inside of St Martin-in-the-Fields was serene.

The streets were busier than i remembered and there seemed to be more advertising and you can’t smoke everywhere anymore, but all of the stuff i cared about was the same. I wandered in all of the squares and parks i passed, enjoying the flowers and sculptures and meandered through the streets, enjoying the bustle.

Then, i turned down a street and was met with the Dunhill shop. For those of you who don’t smoke, it is a famous tobacconist shop. I went in and it was beautiful and i suddenly became very conscious of the fact that i looked very shabby. I apologized for my attire and immediately began prattling on about cigars and Dunhill and the man working there – with a posh accent and nattily dressed in fine tweeds – could not have been nicer. I picked a Partagas from the walk-in humidor and settled into the lounge, for a smoke and espresso.

The only other guys there were two very handsome and super fancy looking young men, smoking Cohiba Behikes and playing cards, immaculately dressed. We chatted a bit and then i was on my way and discovered that there are in fact 3 more cigars stores on that block. If i hadn’t had a plane to catch i would have spent all day there, but instead i walked past Buckingham Palace, through Piccadilly Circus, the theatre district, Leicester Square, Soho, and Chinatown, before ending at Covent Garden. I didn’t really do anything; i just walked and took everything in. Finally it was time to head back to the Airport.

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