Читать книгу 100 Places in Cuba Every Woman Should Go - Conner Gorry - Страница 20

THERE’S OFTEN CONFUSION ABOUT THE hotel scene in Cuba—what’s government owned, what’s a mixed venture, who runs what, how the profits are split—but about the Hotel Nacional, nothing is fuzzy: this is 100 percent Cuban-owned and operated and is a potent symbol of national sovereignty and pride. Designed by the New York firm of McKim, Meade and White (they of New York’s Penn Station and Columbia University), the Nacional opened in 1930 on a rocky outcrop overlooking the Malecón, and was long the preferred place to stay of the rich, famous and powerful. Winston Churchill, Frank Sinatra, and Jean-Paul Sartre all strode the marble and mahogany lobby here, making their way through the heavy doors to the tropical gardens, catching the sea breeze, a stiff rum cocktail at hand. Who didn’t stay here was Josephine Baker: the inimitable chanteuse was turned away for being black, whereupon she spun on her heels and checked into the Sevilla-Biltmore, holding a press conference in the spectacular lobby of that hotel, denouncing the Nacional’s racist policies. Other stars of sport, stage and screen turned away based on race include Jackie Robinson, Nat King Cole, and Joe Louis.

An all-time classic read, out of print but still available used, is Sartre on Cuba.

Luckily, those days are long behind us. The history of the Nacional runs so deep, the bar tucked away behind the lobby is called Salón de la Fama (Hall of Fame) and is packed with photos of famous guests (Steven Spielberg, Rita Hayworth, Errol Flynn, and Marlon Brando), and vitrines filled with ephemera from golden times gone by. Part of the reason the Nacional is so symbolic and Cubans take such pride in now having full ownership stems from its links to the USA and other developed nations to the north. Designed by a US firm, and a favorite of the global glitterati, the Nacional was also the setting for the climactic scene of Graham Greene’s Our Man in Havana. But perhaps what sticks most in the Cuban craw are the Nacional’s pre-revolutionary mafia ties: notorious mob boss Lucky Luciano convened his cronies here to divvy up the city and its casino, prostitution and other nefarious money-making niches. A handful of years later, Meyer Lansky took over operations at the Parisien, the Nacional’s casino and cabaret; today, the Parisien makes a good alternative to the world-famous Tropicana for a hip-shaking, butt-quaking extravaganza.

You need not book a room at the Nacional to experience its seduction—though if it’s within your budget, the setting, location, views, and amenities (two pools, an executive floor with added services like a private restaurant, and one of the city’s top cabarets) make it worth a night or two. Get a coveted room during the Festival Internacional de Nuevo Cine Latinoamericano (AKA The Havana Film Festival), headquartered here each December and you’ll be a fly on the wall for all kinds of star sightings and gossip. Pop in during the festivities and you can get a taste without paying the price. The lobby, with its combination of Moorish, modernist, and eclectic styles is laced with ribbons of cigar smoke, punctuated by the sound of ice shaking in highballs and a polyglot of excitable voices bouncing off the walls. It encapsulates Havana’s wicked torpor and promise; no wonder it sets the tropical tone for Pico Iyer’s novel Cuba and the Night.

Through the double doors lie the hotel’s elegant gardens, with wide-angle views of the sea, stately palm trees, and comfortable wicker couches for taking it all in. A cocktail and snack will set you back at least $10CUC—a small price for gaining access to such hallowed ground. The central fountain and grassy expanses leading to the Malecón beyond are popular spots for Cuban quinceñeras (girls turning 15, this is a coming-out of sorts, where the 15-year-olds dress like child brides or harlots and videotape the entire affair) to pose and mince; a more kitsch rite of passage doesn’t exist—have your camera at the ready. Speaking of kitsch, there’s one Havana spectacle that doesn’t seem to die, though most of its performers already have: an incarnation of the Buena Vista Social Club plays here three times a week and the music, while not played by original members, is superlative—but then again, if you’re listening to bad live music in Cuba, you’re doing something woefully wrong. For those looking for history below the neatly clipped gardens of the Hotel Nacional, daily tours of the underground tunnels and bunkers are a unique way to learn about Cuban defensive mechanisms and get beneath the surface of the hotel—literally.