Back in town, the afternoon was ours. I took advantage of the downtime and wandered through Camagüey’s streets. At the end of Avenida Avellaneda, seemingly the main retail strip, I found Camagüey train station. Once a major railway hub servicing the region’s vast sugarcane fields, it seems time hasn’t been kind. Like so much of Cuba, the station looked like a set from an old film, yet giant locomotives still rumbled by, shunting wagons loaded with sugar cane.
Cuban men take hair care and presentation very seriously. I thought I should show some respect and follow suit; nothing much the barber could do, really – not his fault, my few strands raised their follicles in protest, and I walked out 0.2 grams lighter.
The hunt for internet is a constant theme, a modern luxury and hard to find in a city where the streets twist like a labyrinth, designed centuries ago to confuse would-be invaders. You know you’ve found a “hot spot”—though “warm spot” might be more accurate—when you see a small cluster of people gathered in a plaza or on a corner, phones tilted skyward, chasing a signal.
Wandering the Maze
In this maze, and around every corner, there’s a new surprise. A house with its tiny street-level porch, a makeshift coffee stop just to make a few extra bucks, kids playing football or baseball – again using bits of rolled paper and sticks, tiny dance troupes practising in the street, or kids just running wild. Meanwhile, tradesmen navigate the streets carrying kitchen sinks in one arm, wrestling their motor scooters in the other.
Camagüey, a UNESCO World Heritage site, takes pride in its cultural heritage, the ballet, the music and of course, the art. Often, I’d stumble on a crazy mural, like the one by a small playground, painted by one of Camagüey’s most famous artists, Ileana Jover, and when rounding another corner, into Plaza del Carmen, I discovered a fabulous art gallery owned by, as I soon learned, the internationally renowned sculptor and painter Martha Jiménez. Spending far too long there, admiring her work, I decided to return later before dinner.
After a brief rest back at the casa, I rustled up a bicitaxi and headed back to Martha’s to pick up a few pieces of her art.
