The lovely small city of Camaguey

Camaguey's old theater, restored to its original glory

We arrived in Camaguey quite late after leaving Santiago de Cuba about 8 a.m. and stopping at El Cobre to see the shrine to the Virgin Mary.  We would not recommend stopping here as the church is relatively new and uninteresting except for the many sports memorabilia contributed to the church by athletes who believe the Virgin gave them good luck or saved their lives in some incident.  The area is a copper mining area (hence, “el cobre”), in the mountains, so quite pretty.

Camaguey's cathedral

We drove across the Sierra Maestra, the highest mountain range in Cuba, which is lush and beautiful, with grazing cattle, sheep (a very different kind of sheep than any I’ve ever seen before—no wool, just hairy bodies) and some goats.  There are small villages here, quite poor, with people living in rotting houses.  Very few cars, but lots of horse drawn buggies, some ox carts pulled by 2 oxen and a number of donkey carts, since these little creatures of burden can pull heavier loads in the mountains.  The highway is rough, but fine, with very few cars (and vintage ones at that) and lots of equally old trucks, tractors and buses.

Bayamo is considered the birthplace of Cuba, as the city where the national anthem was first sung and where the citizens first identified themselves as Cuban.  It is an attractive town with a couple of pretty colonial plazas in the center, both very clean.  On the outskirts, though, along the railroad tracks, the trash piles up as no tourists venture there.

restored homes in Bayamo

Camaguey is about 3 hours west of Bayamo, along a road still almost devoid of cars.  Our driver patiently waited behind horse carts, old trucks, tractors and bicycles until the road was clear to pass.  So, it takes a while to get anywhere.

We found a paladar for dinner, a rather large old house now converted into a restaurant, with quite good Cuban food.  One of the waiters there told us he had tried to get to the U.S. last year on a boat, spending all his savings to pay for the trip.  The boat got within a few hundred yards of the beach in Miami when it was stopped by a Coast Guard vessel.  He was imprisoned for 2 weeks before being deported.  He was nearly in tears as he told us that he no longer had any money and not enough income to attempt another trip, but he is hoping that warming relations may make it possible for him to come to the U.S. someday.  He has a sister in California and an aunt and uncle in Miami who, he said, would help him.  His story is a common one.

woman and girl in Bayamo plaza

Two wonderful musicians, a violinist and guitarist, came to play for us.  We sang and chatted in bad Spanish (mine) and English (theirs) for nearly an hour.  They, too, would like to come to the U.S., but can’t imagine being able to save enough money to do so.

Camaguey is one of the more interesting Spanish colonial towns, with meandering alleyways lined with mostly crumbling colonial era homes.  Some have been restored; some are now shops; most lead back through dark rooms to charming, flower-filled courtyards. 

We rode through the historic part of the city in a rickshaw, which isn’t my favorite way to get around but is a critical source of income for the rickshaw owner.  Camaguey is filled with plazas and plazuelas (tiny plazas), many very pretty with trees, flowers, restaurants and street musicians.  Many Cubans earn their living in what looks like an underground economy but is mostly regulated and taxed by the government.  These are virtually single person, tiny, private businesses that support many families.  So tips become very important to those who can claim them.

child by door to her home

child on tricycle in central plaza