bench, strolling beneath trees so grand they feel like rain forest, or pumping hard on a playground swing is panacea—for the banal, tiresome, and just plain annoying. I imagine it was precisely this tranquility and escape of which urban planner and landscape architect Jean-Claude Nicolas Forestier dreamt when he laid pencil to draft paper. The legendary French designer responsible for elegant gardens and parks throughout Europe (Champs-de-Mars in Paris; Parc de la Ciutadella in Barcelona) brought his talent to bear on the Gran Parque Metropolitano, to which the Parque Almendares pertains, during the city’s halcyon years in the mid-1920s when poets and painters, flappers and dandies fueled by reefer and rum jammed sidewalk cafés and bars to wax eloquent. If you think Havana is wild circa 2018….
Ultimately, Forestier’s vision of a corridor of connected parks and green spaces from sea to Boyeros and beyond didn’t come to fruition, but a renewed commitment to re-imagining Havana as a sustainable city is now underway and the park is both cleaner and safer thanks to a revitalization project episodically pursued. New riverside landscaping and lighting, fresh coats of paint, and more modern playground equipment have the park feeling downright spiffy these days; if a couple of serviceable public bathrooms were installed and a decent café, this would fast become one of the city’s top recreation destinations.
Parque Metropolitano covers 1,700 acres and is known as the lungs of Havana for its expansive tree cover and green space; the heart of these lungs is Parque Almendares, accessed by crossing the eponymous bridge at Vedado’s western extent. Immediately upon descending the stairs leading to the park you’ll start to see (and smell) part of what makes this park so enigmatic for habaneros: the forest running down to river’s edge here is an ideal setting for Santería rites and sacrifices and rotting sacrificial flora and fauna dot the cityscape here. Renting a rowboat at the pier (35 cents/hour) and heading down-river delivers an unparalleled excursion through the park’s heart and a glimpse of El Fanguito, one of the city’s most vulnerable neighborhoods.
The Bosque de la Habana—that of the jungle-like canopy—makes for a cool, pleasant stroll and is a hot spot for Santería rites; should you happen upon one, respect the privacy of the adherents and definitely refrain from taking photos. In 2017, the amphitheater here was re-opened (this lovely, several hundred seat venue saw its last concert in the early 2000s when a Cuban rock guitarist now residing in Spain got too political at the microphone), and there are regular Saturday evening concerts here in the summer. Acerbically droll Cuban folksinger Frank Delgado holds forth here most Saturdays, putting together an entertaining mashup of word and song with invited musicians, poets, and playwrights. The music gets going around 7 p.m. when the sun dips soft and luscious below the horizon—a good option for a cheap, low-key music outing with the kids. Occasionally there are raucous, outdoor music festivals hosted in the parking lots and playgrounds of the park, including the Festival de Salsa each February and Festival Havana World Music in March. Dancing under the stars with hundreds of happy Cubans? Unforgettable.
HILARITY (OR FRUSTRATION, DEPENDING ON my mood) ensues whenever I mention to Cuban friends Parque Lenin and my desire to go to the rodeo. “What rodeo in Vedado?!” they ask me, in a loud voice, gesticulating with their hands like Cubans are wont to do. “There’s no rodeo in Vedado. Have you gone mad?” I am then forced to clarify, sounding out slowly, like a child: “Not Parque Lennon, Parque Lenin: L-E-N-I-N. As in Vladimir Ilyich.” Such are the trials of a native English speaker in a Beatles-crazed, USSR-influenced, Spanish-speaking land. Similarly sounding, these two parks couldn’t be more different in concept, layout, and purpose. While Lennon Park is easily accessed from any point in the central part of the city, the 1,655-acre park named after the Soviet ideologue is way out on the suburban outskirts, more of a draw for local families and school trips than the stuff of tourist itineraries. Nevertheless, the vast green expanses, varied activities and sites, and chance to mix and mingle with Cubans of all stripes and types make a good side trip—especially if you’re traveling with the little ones.
You’ll recognize the entrance to the park when you start seeing grazing horses and a larger-than-life-size statue of revolutionary hero Celia Sánchez Manduley, rifle swung smartly over her shoulder. This multi-purpose park was one of her bright ideas, designed to encourage Cubans to get out and enjoy nature, art, sports, and other healthy pursuits; it’s one of the major public projects of the revolution and though a bit rough around the edges in spots—for instance, you’re better off bringing a picnic or buying some barbecue from the cluster of cafeterias than visiting one of the depressing restaurants on the grounds—a recent influx of Chinese investment is having an impact. Attending an event here provides some of the most raucous, authentic experiences around and will place your finger firmly on the pulse of Cuban culture. The twice annual rodeo is a hoot, attracting real cowboys (and girls) from the surrounding countryside to compete in heavily contested calf roping events and the like, and the national dog breed show, while not Westminister, is a very serious affair, with well-heeled Cubans parading their pedigreed pooches, including the Cuban-bred Havanese, (called a bichón habanero by locals)—a white puff of a lap dog heavily sought after. If you happen upon a pigeon race, held occasionally here, do not hesitate to hang around to see tough looking characters taking bets, adding soiled pesos cubanos to growing wads as big as a bagel, while others coo at their birds and brandish heritage papers before potential buyers. When the competitors fly in to view, their owners whoop and holler, running flat out as they coax their birds to the finish line. The last one I went to was a Matanzas-Havana race—these birds flew over 70 miles without breaking a sweat!
Internationally sanctioned dog shows happen in Havana each April and November.
There’s a small amusement park, a lake for row boating and horseback riding as well here; for something more adrenaline-pumping, you can zoom around the palm-shaded meadows on an all-terrain motorcycle. Directly south of the park is the Jardín Botánico Nacional, with an astounding collection of palms from around the world and the oasis known as the Jardín Japonés, replete with a giant koi pond and the requisite pagoda. If you’re out this way, detour to the Parque Zoólogico Nacional, the highlight of which is an African safari bus jaunt with hippos, elephants, lions, tigers, and other exotic animals. Many of these beasts were imported in 2013 thanks to a bilateral agreement between Cuba and Namibia, which donated the animals; their travels and successful insertion into the zoo was splashed all over the news and papers for weeks.
RECIPE FOR A PERFECT DAY in Havana: shake off your mojito hangover with a double espresso accompanied by unparalleled views of the Capitolio on the roof of the Hotel Saratoga (preferred hotel of Jimmy Page, Beyoncé, Madonna, and Justin Bieber—who didn’t want to vacate the Presidential Suite for Pope Francisco’s visit), before heading next door to the Asociación Yoruba de Cuba for a crash course in Afro-Cuban religions—Santería, Abakuá, and Palo Monte. The first is the most popular, practiced widely, while Abakuá is a secret society (membership open only to men) flirting with black magic and ghoulish interventions. In Abakuá, the biblical precept of “an eye for an eye” is taken seriously: violence, sometimes fatal, is rained upon those crossing an adherent. Palo Monte falls somewhere in between, with herbal concoctions and communing with the dead employed to harness supernatural powers. If you’ve ever wondered why so many people are wearing white, from their head wraps to their umbrellas, this is the place to find out (they’re being initiated into Santería—the island’s most popular faith by far). Weave your way through Habana Vieja’s choked, cobblestoned streets to the new ferry terminal near the Plaza de Armas and hop on the ferry with
