Stuck in Caracas?

Not the most cheerful airport in the world, what with dim lamps hanging from the high, dark ceilings, the plain concrete staircases and, of course, all types of people waiting in utter boredom. The best thing was that we were seven hours early for our check-in! Thank goodness for Church’s Chicken, the best fast-food chicken burgers on the planet! And let’s not forget their awesome crinkle-cut chips with plenty of ketchup! We also requested Coca-Cola in the combo meal and it was delicious, but it was a much cheaper version like the 2l bottles we used to buy for 8p. We also managed a bit of final souvenir shopping, which killed a couple of hours and before long we were rushing to the randomised queue where a few people seemed to be surrounded by an entropy of thousands of suitcases. We, clever detectives, found out that A LOT of Cubans come to Venezuela to buy their expensive electronic goods on the cheap as opposed to paying more for them in their own country. This must be worth it to them somehow but when you consider the price of the tickets from Cuba to and from Caracas, plus the astronomical airport taxes, it’s hard to believe that there’s any point at all. We spent ample time in the queue standing upright until our backs became cranky and we assumed the sitting position for a while before that became uncomfortable also. There was just one more thing for it… Another one of those chicken combo meals each!
At this stage of the game, we had little idea of the true nature of Cubana’s customer service skills: this would only be gradually revealed over the coming days. Yes, days, for we also had scant knowledge of the looming fact that the flight we were about to undertake would, in fact, be lasting three days…
Well, LAN gave us a little bit of a hard time going to Easter Island last month and they didn’t offer us a hotel room and instead made us wait up through the night after which we woke up with our heads inside our empty McDonald’s Mac-litter. I am really looking for good points about Cubana de Aviacion and to give them their due, they paid our night in the hotel on the outer limits of Caracas so that we could descansar before checking in AGAIN about 24 hours later than scheduled. But just as they were redeeming themselves, we found more hurdles to come.
So the flight was postponed until the following day because there was a major technical fault with the fuel lines on the Yakolev-42D. The hotel in Macuto was great, as was the truly spectacular views of the mountains which descend here dramatically to meet the Caribbean. The following day we arrived back at the airport and eventually boarded our Yak. Words cannot fully describe the condition of the aircraft; business class was littered with stray luggage, cattle class resembled a dirty Guatemalan chicken bus, whilst the signs were in Russian, Lithuanian, Arabic and eventually Spanish. The strong whiff of aviation fuel completed the first impressions. We took off, flew for three hours and touched down in a tropical paradise, complete with turquoise water and white, sandy beaches. We bounded down from the plane and over to the tiny terminal building. At some point during this short walk, Simon pointed out to Jon that it didn’t really look much like Havana, the supposed destination of the trip. It wasn’t Havana at all, but Cayo Largo. One hour passed before we were queuing to board the plane again to Havana, hopefully! Up and away we went, right into a tropical storm, complete with lightening and killer turblence. Would our little Yak survive? Wish as we might, but Camagüey turned the next port of call. Our information on this place is rather limited as, by this time, the light of day had completely disappeared and we are only able to comment on the beautiful streetlamp specks! Changing money was successful here though and we were able to tuck into some half-a-job microwave pizza. With a mixture of Tabasco, Lea and Perrin’s, ketchup and ground pepper, the pizza didn’t seem all that bad. Just to be sure, we eradicated the taste with some good value tubs of chocolate and strawberry ice cream. It was about now that Simon discovered just how cheap the local rum was…
Within ten minutes of ingestion, the airline staff gathered the fellow passengers and started issuing tickets for free airport food. If only we had waited a little longer. We were stuffed at this point but, since it was free, we managed to find extra room for the ham and cheese baguette, and the cola. We hadn’t even finished chomping when it was announced that we should be embarking the plane once again!
This time the flight went to Trinidad. Actually, I’m joking, We finally made it to Havana, but I had you there for a second, admit it! Immigration was fairly rigorous, but we got through before waiting five decades for our backpacks. We then queue jumped the passengers who were declaring their TVs, DVDs, computer consoles, microwaves, (you name it!) from Venezuela and strolled right out into the open where we were to meet a large group of dedicated taxi drivers. It turned out we picked the right guy to get a lift with as his car was just the best and all we ever wanted to experience from Cuban automobiles. It was a massive, vintage 1954 Buic. The scarlet red and magnolia stripes on the paintwork were highlighted by the exposed, overheating bulbs of the rear lights, and the whole car seemed to violently vibrate as the engine rumbled during the journey. There was an overpowering whiff of something, like a mixture of engine oil, gasoline, heat on leather and stale sweat. The day after, it became more obvious that this wasn’t just the smell of the Buic, but the odour pervading the streets, dwellings and shops of the city. Let the experience commence!
By this stage it was 3 in the morning, but we didn’t care! Neither did Pablo, who was there to greet us at the casa particular. And what a fantastic house he and his wife, Sandra, have! We were shown to our room, which was immediately up a flight of white, tiled stairs and through a small door. The room is like its own apartment, but without a kitchen and is very cosy with small windows and a couple of tiny Tiffany lights for illumination. This is most definitely the “king of rooms” out of all the ones we have stayed in during the trip, plus the nice family here really enhances the experience! We flung open the tiny shutters the following morning to see one of the many characteristic vintage motors that dominate the city streets!