Praying Facing South: The Variety of Mosques Part 1

This post and its companions (Praying Facing East and Praying Facing West) have been developed from the November 2011 post ‘Three Favourite Mosques’. Although the world has many fine mosques we have yet to visit, we have now seen more than enough to make ‘Three Favourites’ a very limited ambition – indeed the 'favourites' now fill three post.

Islam is the world’s second largest religion with 1.9 billion adherents. It is the majority religion in 49 countries, centred on the middle east but with a vast geographical spread. In 2005 we visited The Great Mosque in Xi’an in China. Some distance away an English-speaking person with an overloud voice (his nationality was immediately obvious) was giving his Chinese guide the benefit of his knowledge of Islam. ‘They have to pray facing East,’ he announced.

This map comes from Wikipedia. It is the work of Tracey M Hunter, the figures are from Pew Research Centre
It is reproduced unchanged under Creative Commons Attribution- share Alike

Muslims, of course, pray facing Mecca, the city, now in Saudi Arabia, that was home to the Prophet Muhammed. To make sense of my collection of mosques I have split it into three, depending of the (rough) direction of Mecca. The mosques I have selected are old or beautiful or quirky or have an interesting history, or any combination of those four.

I should point out I am not a believer, in Islam or any other religion, but I do like religious buildings.

For ease of access and because I have occasionally broken my own rules, countries are allocated as follows

Facing East	Jordan, Oman, Egypt, Libya, Portugal	Arab Countries (with one obvious exception!)
Facing South	Turkey, Azerbaijan, Armenia, Georgia, Bulgaria, Albania, North Macedonia, Bosnia & Herzegovina	Countries wholly or partly in Europe
Facing West	Iran, India, China, Malaysia	An ethnic mixed bag

9 of the 18 are Muslim Majority countries, the other have or had an indigenous Muslim population.

Turkey

The Islamic world expanded dramatically in the century after the prophet’s death (632CE), much of the expansion coming at the expense of the Byzantine Empire. It was not until 1095 that expansion further into what is now Turkey prompted the Byzantine Emperor to ask the Pope for assistance. He sent the First Crusade, which rather by-passed Constantinople on its way to Jerusalem.

The extent of the Umayyid Caliphate in 750
The work of Gabagool and borrowed from Wikipedia under Creative Commons licence

The Byzantine Empire endured death by a thousand cuts, its suffering finally ending in 1453 when the Ottomans took Constantinople. As Istanbul is the only part of Turkey we have visited, this is where my mosques must be.

Istanbul has many to chose from. There was a mosque just up the road from our hotel in the narrow streets of the old Sultanahmet district. It was small, but the dawn call to prayer was so loud I thought the muezzin was sitting on the end of our bed. That said, Istanbul has 2⅓ of the world’s finest mosques.

Süleymaniye Mosque

If not perhaps Istanbul’s best-known mosque, the silhouette of the Süleymaniye Mosque across the Golden Horn is one of the city’s signature views.

The Süleymaniye Mosque and the Golden Horn, Istanbul

Commissioned by the Ottoman Emperor Süleyman the Magnificent, the mosque was designed by imperial architect Mimar Sinan and built between 1550 and 1557.

The photograph was taken from the top of the Galata Tower, see Istanbul (4) Taksim Square and the Galata Tower (2014)

The Blue Mosque

Built between 1609 and 1616 for Sultan Ahmet I, the Blue Mosque was the last great mosque of the Ottoman classical period. Despite its graceful cascade of domes and semi-domes, it was not without its critics. Such size and splendour, they said, was inappropriate when the Persian war was going badly and Anatolia was in a state of anarchy, and if that was not enough, having six minarets, like the Great Mosque of Mecca, was sacreligious.

The Blue Mosque, Istanbul

Despite the crowds we found the interior retained an air of calm serenity. The blue tiles that gave the mosque its name dominated, but there were pinks and greens too, and over 250 windows giving a feeling of space and light.

Inside the Blue Mosque, Istanbul

The huge dome is beautiful, but the chunky ‘elephant leg’ pillars required to support it look out of proportion.

The dome of the Blue Mosque, Istanbul

Haghia Sophia

Earlier I referred to 2⅓ mosques, Haghia Sophia is the ⅓. Door-to-door it is 300m from the Blue Mosque and the photos of each were taken from the same spot. Completed in 536, the church of Haghia Sophia was built for the Byzantine Emperor Justinian. It is perhaps the greatest architectural achievement of the Byzantine Empire and the Blue Mosque, built over a thousand years later, appears to owe something to its venerable neighbour.

Haghia Sophia, Istanbul

With the arrival of the Ottomans, Haghia Sophia became a mosque. The four minarets, rockets on ugly concrete pedestals, are regrettable, but inside the changes were sympathetic. I called it ⅓ a mosque, as it has been a church, a mosque and now a secular museum. Today the Islamic minbar and calligraphy….

Minbar and Islamic calligraphy, Haghia Sophia, Istanbul

…sit easily beside the earlier Byzantine mosaics.

Virgin and Child with the Emperor John II and his wife Irene, Haghia Sophia, Istanbul

[Update: As of 2020 Hagia Sophia is a mosque again. The Turkish government say all the Byzantine mosaics will be respected and treasured. Even so, it is a provocative move, it is not as though Istanbul is short of mosques. I believe the building would be best cared for by those for whom its history and beauty were primary concerns. But my opinion counts for....]

See Istanbul (1) The Blue Mosque, Haghia Sophia and the Bosphorus (2011)

The remainder of this post is in two sections linked by Istanbul the capital of the Ottoman Empire that took Islam into Europe, and along with Persia (now Iran) into the Caucasus.

Mosques in the Caucusus

Featured mosques in the first section are in Baku, Tbilisi, and Yerevan the capitals of the south Caucasus republics,
and in Șamaxi 120km west of Baku (so pretty well on the red ring)

Azerbaijan

Whether the three former soviet republics south of the Caucasus are European states is debatable. Armenia and Georgia think they are, and they do feel European, FIFA thinks all three are but Azerbaijan, the only majority Muslim state among them - and in many ways a detached corner of Asian Turkey - is more ambivalent.

Over 90% of Azeris identify as Muslims, but for many that identification is more cultural and ethnic than religious; after decades of state atheism as part of the USSR, they are not that bothered.

The Muhammed or Siniggala Mosque, Baku

The Siniggala Mosque claims to be the oldest in Baku, dating from the 11th century, though it appears to be a more recent building constructed on ancient foundations. Siniggala (damaged tower) refers to the, now repaired minaret. Stubby but still imposing in the densely packed low-rise Old City, it survives from the original mosque. During the Russo-Persian War (1722-3) a squadron of Russian warships demanded Baku’s surrender. Refusal was followed by a bombardment and the minaret was hit. The sudden storm that then blew the ships out of range was clearly a divine intervention, so the minaret was left untouched for many years.

The Muhammad (or Broken Tower) Mosque, Baku

see Baku (2); The Qobustan Petroglyphs and the Old City (2014)

Friday Mosque, Şamaxı

Şamaxı is a small town 120km west of Baku. The Friday Mosque is sometimes called the second-oldest mosque in the trans-Caucasus but it looks surprisingly new.

Şamaxı Friday Mosque

The first mosque on this site was built in the 8th century, but seismic activity and marauding Georgians and Armenians have seen off a few versions of the building. An early 20th century reconstruction designed by Józef Plośko, a St Petersburg trained Polish architect (and not the only Christian to design a mosque in these posts) forms the basis of the current building, though the major 2011 restoration encouraged Lonely Planet to call it a ’21st century masterpiece.’

Mihrab, Şamaxı Friday Mosque

See Baku to Şǝki(2014)

Armenia

Blue Mosque, Yerevan

Armenia claims to have been the first country to make Christianity its state religion when St. Gregory the Illuminator converted King Tiridates III in 301. However, Armenia is a small country and has spent much of its history wedged between the Ottoman, Russian and Persian empires, so foreign rulers came and went. The Blue Mosque was built in 1765–1766 by Hussein Ali Khan when Yerevan was the capital of his Persian Khanate. It was secularised in 1920 by the communist regime, but was re-opened in 1996 after the fall of the Soviet Union. Armenia has a Muslim population of under 1,000, mainly of Iranian descent, and this is the country’s only mosque.

The Blue Mosque, Yerevan - very Iranian in style

It sits unobtrusively in a dip beside the central Mashtots Avenue, so even the minaret hardly breaks the skyline. It is not generally open, but we asked the nice man in the Iranian tourist office near the entrance and he gave us the key. That was in 2003, I suspect they may be more security conscious now.

Blue Mosque minaret, Yerevan

Georgia

Georgia is another small Christian country that received unwanted attention from surrounding empires. Tbilisi was (off and on) the capital of an Iranian vassal monarchy from the 16th until the 18th century when the Georgians sought Russian support to free themselves. Like others who sought such help, they soon found themselves annexed by Tsarist Russia.

Jumah Mosque, Tbilisi

As part of the Soviet Union, Tbilisi retained a Shia and a Sunni mosque until 1951 when the Sunni mosque was demolished to make way for a bridge. The surviving Shi-ite Jumah Mosque took in the homeless Sunnis and has become the only mosque in the world where Shia and Sunni Muslims worship side by side.

Jumah Mosque, Tbilisi

Tbilisi sits in a gorge, and the mosque is in a side-gorge above the thermal spring. Among the spas are the Orbeliani baths, which look more like a Persian mosque than the mosque itself. Pushkin described this as the ‘most luxurious place on earth’.

Orbeliani Baths, Tbilisi

See Tbilisi (2014)

Mosques in the Balkans

Islam expanded in this area under the Ottoman empire which entered Europe in 1453 and finally retreated to the bottom right hand corner in 1918. Featured Mosques are in the ringed cities except in North Macedonia, where Glumovo is very near Skopje and Prilep is south of the 'E'

Bulgaria

Eastern Orthodox Christianity has always been the dominant religion in Bulgaria but active membership has fallen steadily in recent years. About 8% of the population identify as Muslims, a small number for a country that was part of the Ottoman Empire for 500 years and has a border with Turkey.

Banya Bashi Mosque, Sofia

Sofia has one active mosque, but it is a big one. Unsurprisingly Turkish in style the Banya Bashi Mosque dates from 1566 and, like Istanbul’s Süleymaniye Mosque, was designed by Mimar Sinan. Clearly Sofia was an important city.

The Banya Bashi Mosque, Sofia

Banya Bashi is built beside and partly over Sofia’s thermal spring. The name means ‘Big Bath’ and you can collect the warm mineral water in the square outside.

The hot springs outside the Banya Bashi Mosque, Sofia

See Sofia and the Master of Boyana (2007)

Albania

Converting to Islam under the Ottoman Empire conferred distinct advantages, and some 70% of Albanians were Muslims by the time the empire folded in 1918. For 45 year after World War 2, a nominally communist dictatorship imposed militant atheism. Freedom of religion arrived in the 1990s and was met with displays of mass apathy. Although 57% identified as Muslim in the 2011 census, a 2008 study in Tirana found that 67% of declared Muslims and 55% of Christians were completely non-observant.

Many churches and mosques were destroyed under state atheism – the current freedom has seen no great rebuilding.

The Et’hem Bey Mosque, Tirana

Et'hem Bey Mosque, Tirana

One mosque, though does have particular significance. The early 19th century Et’hem Bey Mosque sits in a corner of Tirana’s central Skanderbeg Square. Scheduled for demolition in the 1960s, it somehow never happened. In 1991 the mosque reopened without the authority’s permission. When 10,000 attended Friday prayers on the 18th of January 1991 and the police did nothing, it was a signal that the old regime had capitulated.

Et'hem Bey has the slimmest of pencil slim minarets,  typical of Balkan mosques.

See Tirana (2019)

North Macedonia

Like their close cousins the Bulgarians, ethnic Macedonians are almost entirely Eastern Orthodox Christians (though whether practising or not is another matter), but they only comprise 64% of the population. Around 30% are Muslims including the vast majority of the substantial ethnic Albanian community. Ironically the best-known Macedonian Albanian (though she was born in the days of the Ottoman Empire) was the Roman Catholic Mother Teresa of Calcutta.

Skopje has a few grand mosques, as befits a capital, several understated churches from Ottoman times, and a big modern cathedral, but I will start with a village mosque.

Glumovo Mosque, Near Skopje

Glumovo (it’s better than it sounds) is only 10km outside Skopje. For a village of 1,683 (2002 census) it has a huge mosque, but as 1,646 of those people are Albanians and most of the rest are Muslim Bozniaks, perhaps it needs it.

Glumovo Mosque

Pencil slim minarets are a feature of mosques in the Balkans, and Glumovo has two of the finest.

See The Matka Canyon and Stobi (2015)

Čarši Mosque, Prilep

Although Prilep, 100km south of Skopje, is North Macedonia’s 4th largest city, it has only 70,000 inhabitants. Unlike Glumovo its Muslim population is relatively small.

Macedonia achieved independence in 1991 without firing a shot, but in 2001 the Kosovo conflict spilt over into northern Macedonia with elements of the Kosovo Liberation Army (KLA) trying to inspire ethnic Albanian Macedonians to fight for a 'greater Albania'. For six months until a UN brokered settlement there was considerable fighting along the Kosovan border. On the 7th of August 2001 ten Macedonian soldiers, all from Prilep, were killed in a KLA ambush on the Skopje-Tetovo road. Protests on the 8th turned into riots and Prilep’s 15th century mosque was burned down. None of Prilep's Albanian population were implicated in the atrocity which happened 80km away.

Prilep's burned out mosque

In 2015 the failure of local and national authorities to sanction the rebuilding remained a bone of contention. It seems it still is.

See Prilep and Bitola (2015)

Bosnia and Herzegovina

If Prilep gives a taste of the destruction of the Balkans war, Bosnia provides a surfeit. In 2012 the buildings of Sarajevo were still pock-marked by bullets, but the worst destruction we saw was in Mostar. Nationalism waved its magic wand and families who had been neighbours, and even friends, for generations suddenly turned to killing each other. I find it difficult to understand; there is nothing special about the people of Mostar, so perhaps it could happen anywhere

Before the war the city’s population was, roughly 20% Serb (Eastern Orthodox Christians), 40% Bosniak (Muslims) and 40% Croat (Roman Catholic Christians).

The initial Serb siege destroyed the Catholic Cathedral, the Franciscan monastery, the bishop’s palace and library, and 14 mosques. After they were repulsed the Croats showed the same Christian spirit by destroying the orthodox cathedral, three churches and a monastery – and all but one of the 13 surviving Ottoman era mosques. Eventually in 1993 in an act of symbolic vandalism they destroyed Mostar’s emblematic bridge.

Mostar Bridge, Built 1557-66 by the Ottomans, destroyed 1993, rebuilt 2001-3 by Turkish craftsmen 

The Karađozbeg Mosque, Mostar

The Karađozbeg Mosque is not the largest or finest, but it has been serving its community on the left bank of the Neretva, the Muslim quarter of Mostar, since 1577. The war left it with a gaping hole in the dome and the stump of a minaret. It is now fully restored and open to worshippers and anyone else who wishes to pop in.

Karađozbeg Mosque, Mostar

See Mostar (2012)

The expanding Ottoman Empire swallowed Bosnia in 1460. Sarajevo was founded the following year as the administrative capital for the new Ottoman province and duly acquired an array of mosques to suit its status.

The Alipašina Mosque, Sarajevo

The Alipašina Mosque, Sarajevo, built 1561
Unlike churches mosques only occassionally have an associated graveyard 

In 1991 Sarajevo became the capital of the freshly independent Republic of Bosnia and Herzegovina and was promptly surrounded by Serb forces trying to carve out a new Republika Srpska. The Siege of Sarajevo, April 1992 to December 1995, was the longest siege of the 20th century. 14,000 died, 5,500 of them civilians, 1,500 of those children.

Situated in a narrow valley closed at one end, Sarajevo was perfectly designed for a siege. Many of the Muslim dead are buried in the Martyr’s Cemetery which flows down the head of the valley. One evening we walked up to the Ottoman Yellow Bastion above the cemetery from where we could see the city laid out before us.

I could not count the mosques at the time, but I have found 18 minarets in the photograph (ringed in red). The Serbian Orthodox and Catholic Cathedrals (yellow) also stand out as does the bilious yellow cube of the Holiday Inn (blue) overlooking the notorious ‘Sniper’s Alley. As dusk fell the call from mosques started, not all together, but first one, than another, then a third. The sound swelled as more and more joined in, then gradually started to ebb until eventually there was one lone voice. It was a magnificent sound.

The Mosques and Cathedral of Sarajevo (and the Martyr's Cemetary) 2012

A friend who visited in the 1970s described Sarajevo as a perfect multi-cultural city, with people of different traditions living and working together harmoniously. Then it all went wrong, and now it is being put back together. Humans are good at restoring things, be they bridges or communities; it's a pity they have to destroy them first.

See Sarajevo (1) The Old Town, The New Town and Assassination of Franz Ferdinand

and Sarajevo (2) The Siege 1992-1995

Swynnerton, Easter 2020: A Village in Lockdown

A New, Unwelcome but Unavoidable Experience.

Staffordshire

Stafford Borough

The Easter bank holiday weekend has arrived and is, for once, accompanied by warm weather. Families should be going out, friends should be visited, sports events should be taking place, but nothing is happening, not here, not anywhere. We are in lockdown.

Such a situation is enough to make a travel blogger write about home, or at least the village I have called home for the last 27 years. It is, after all, facing an Easter which may be unique in its long history.

Swynnerton, in north Staffordshire, is a typical English village, typical in that it has many of the attributes villages share, and, equally typically, several more most do not. The earliest inhabitants to have made their mark are those buried in the bronze age round barrow on the edge of the village. They knew nothing of social distancing - or, indeed, Easter - but I would bet that among them were ancestors of people who would later adopt names like Cheadle and Fitzherbert.

Round Barrow, Swynnerton

Recorded history arrived three thousand years later (give or take a century or two) in 1086. Swynnerton, recorded as Sulvertone, had 15 households according to the Domesday book. The parish Church of St Mary's dates from this period – at least some of it does. Any building that has been in use for so long will have undergone countless alterations and several partial rebuilds as it serves the changing needs of the villagers. But this Easter St Mary’s is locked.

St Mary's Swynnerton

Turn ninety degrees from St Mary’s and you face the Roman Catholic Church of Our Lady, a relative newcomer built in 1846. Both face the war memorial, which is appropriate as two world wars cut a swathe through the young men of Swynnerton without social or religious discrimination. The Church of Our Lady is locked, too.

The Church of Our Lady, Swynnerton 

Swynnerton has seen epidemics before and our fear of Covid-19 is entirely rational but should be kept in proportion. The ‘Spanish’ Flu of 1919/20 resulted in more deaths than any other pandemic in history, particularly killing the young and fit, including many who had survived the hell of the previous four years. The Black Death was relatively the biggest killer, reducing the population of Europe by about a half. It reached the English Midlands in 1351 – I doubt the church was closed that year, gathering together to pray was their only defence – and some died because of it. Swynnerton was lucky to survive, the country is dotted with villages that did not.

Easter may be a Christian festival, but according to Bede the name derives from Êastre, a pre-Christian Goddess of Spring. Whether he was right or wrong, Easter is undoubtedly a Christianisation of a much older Spring festival, and Spring carries on regardless. The flowers bloom….

Spring flowers, Swynnerton

…and the fields are white-flecked with new-laid lambs.

Spring lambs, Swynnerton

One of the pleasures of living in Swynnerton is that we can take our government approved daily walk in countryside, not along city streets. Some days we stroll past the sheep and take the lane towards Cotes…

Down the lane towards Cotes

… and watch those we are learning to call ‘essential workers’ going about their tasks.

Essential work

And then we turn through the narrow belt of woodland, which next month will be carpeted with bluebells…

Through the woodland, Swynnerton

…but where even now the leaves are beginning to unfurl.

Leaves starting to unfurl, Swynnerton

Our return via the cricket ground – every village should have a cricket ground - is made more challenging by first having to cross a field an essential worker has just ploughed.

Returning over a ploughed field

April should see the start of the cricket season, and the sign outside the ground says all are welcome but….

All welcome, but not just  now

…nobody is here either, and the square has seen some preparation, but it is not ready for action.

The cricket pavilion and vacant grass, Swynnerton

Agriculture is not the only activity that must go on, the bin men are still collecting our rubbish, though the fortnightly garden waste collections are not being made….

Ranks of bins ready for emptying, Swynnerton

…and Yvonne keeps the village shop and post office open – every village should have a shop and post office, though many now do not. Customers practice social distancing outside and enter one at a time.

Village shop and post office, Swynnerton

Supermarkets are open too. I have not left Swynnerton for three weeks but Lynne went to Tesco’s in Trent Vale last Thursday. Would-be shoppers queueing across the car park at more than the regulation 2m apart, were brought freshly sanitised shopping trollies by the staff and waited for the ‘one in, one out’ policy to bring them their turn.

Socially distanced queueing, Tesco's, Trent Vale

Every village should have a pub, but social change has brought hard times to the pub trade in recent years and The Fitzherbert Arms has had its ups and downs sometimes closing for months on end. A couple of years ago The Cheshire Cat Pub Company – who specialise in rescuing such pubs – redesigned and revived the Fitz. All pubs are now closed and many will never reopen, I hope the Cheshire Cat and the Fitz have the resources to ride out this storm.

The Fitzherbert Arms, Swynnerton

They are doing their best to help themselves. The Fitz has been distributing grocery boxes, the first of several similar enterprises, and although restaurants are closed, take-aways are allowed to trade, so four days a week, with a limited menu, the Fitz kitchens are open. Phone in your order, pay, agree your time slot, turn up and collect. A line of kegs with the magical 2m separation stand outside, but there was no queue when I went and there won’t be if people stick to their times.

Social distncing kegs outside the Fitz

And it is not just the pub that is finding ways to continue, our book group had its April meeting last week on Zoom. I am old enough to find the concept mildly mind-boggling, but it works.

We will survive, with luck largely unscathed, but we should spare a thought for those who have lost loved ones, those who are ill, and those worrying about sick relatives or friends. And we should spare a thought, too, for the ‘essential workers’ who carry on, their jobs have become more difficult and some of them more dangerous.

I know we have it easy. We have countryside to walk in and a garden, where we can have lunch on a fine day... 

Lunch in the garden

...and Lynne has prepared and part planted her vegetable patch…

Lynne and her vegetable patch

We don’t have jobs to worry about losing, and our income remains secure (we hope).

Sacrifices have been forced upon us, trips to North Wales and Scotland have been cancelled, our May trip to see friends in Torquay looks doubtful as does our June holiday in Ukraine, but these are irritations, not privations. In different circumstances we could have been a couple with young children in a two-bedroomed flat on the 17th floor of an urban tower block; we would have struggled to cope, so, while expressing solidarity for those who have to, I shall count our many blessings.

And as the Buddha said: Strive on diligently. Don’t give up. All things must pass.

Inside the Fitz in happer times

Cuba (8): Jibacoa and a Strange Trip Home

Covid Affects the End of our Trip and Maroons us at Home for a Long time

Going All-Inclusive

Cuba

I dislike the concept of all-inclusive resorts; no one should be encouraged to visit a country and opt out of all engagement with it other than its climate. But we had already engaged with Cuba, and (as Bob said) you can't criticise what you don't understand, so we gave it a brief try.

The resort building and gardens were well-maintained. Our ground-floor room was clean, bright and comfortable, the patio over-looked the pool area, and the beach was just a small step beyond.

The pool area from our patio

The main restaurant served buffets for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Breakfast apart I dislike buffets, the food is usually tepid and tired, the ambience more feeding station than restaurant. In Jibacoa these disadvantages were exaggerated by arranging the tables in straight lines. The staff proceeded up and down (they reminded me of exam invigilators), sometimes removing empty plates, sometimes distributing wine (which exam invigilators don't). All drinks were, of course, ‘free’ but cost control was achieved by never more than half-filling the tiny glasses. What the wine was, other than cheap, nobody said and nobody seemed to care.

Two other ‘free’ restaurants were bookable and after enduring the ‘cafeteria’ on Saturday night, I tried to book one of the alternatives for Sunday. Both, I was told, were closed. Throughout our 48-hour stay (already reduced from 72), guests were continually leaving, and few if any arrived. The curse of Covid was closing the resort, facility by facility.

The saving grace was the upstairs ‘social bar’ providing cocktails before dinner and digestifs afterwards in a comfortable and civilised atmosphere.

Jibacoa is on the north coast (The Straight of Florida) a little west of Matanzas

Sun, Sand and Pool

The resort’s residents spend most of their time when not eating and/or drinking indulging in the pleasures of sun, sand and pool. There were nice beaches to walk on…

The beach, Jibacoa

…and a warm sea to swim in (though Lynne still complained it was cold, and had a current)…

Lynne in the sea, Jibacoa

…but for most this involved lying on their backs shielding their eyes from a sun that shone happily in a clear blue sky.

I can just be seen bobbing about in the sea

The accommodation blocks surrounded a pool more used for lying around than swimming in. As guest numbers dwindled, there were times when I almost had the pool to myself.

Not quite having the pool to myself

I also spent some time on the patio in the company of Hilary Mantel, whose fictional account of the Tudor court rings so true it is hard to believe she was not really there.

'Bring up the Bodies' Jibacoa patio

Cuban -American Relations Part 4

Fidel Castro 1959
(Public Domain)

A serious interlude among the trivialities. This is the fourth and final part. Part 1 can be found on the way to Viñales, Part 2 on the way to Trinidad and Part 3 in Trinidad.

President Batista had been an American client, but he had sorely tested their patience and American support during the revolution was, at best, half-hearted. The revolution had included non-communist forces and in 1959 it remained unclear whether Fidel Castro was himself a Communist. Given that ambiguity President Eisenhower recognised the new regime and gave it a cautious welcome.

Dwight D Eisenhower 1959
(Public Domain)

The ambiguity soon evaporated and the Americans began to fear Communist insurgencies spreading throughout Latin America. In 1960 Castro nationalised American assets in Cuba, so Eisenhower froze Cuban assets on American soil, severed diplomatic ties and imposed a trade embargo, the ‘bloqueo’ which still stands today. He also directed the CIA to assist Cuban exiles in recruiting a militia and in planning a counter-revolutionary invasion.

Eisenhower informed President-elect Kennedy of this just before his inauguration in January 1961. Kennedy permitted the invasion to go ahead in April, but the landing in the Bay of Pigs was a spectacular failure.

The Cuban Missile Crisis: A Grossly Simplified Account

John F Kennedy 1963
Public Domain

Castro realised he needed friends. The USSR was the obvious candidate and First Secretary Khrushchev was delighted to have an ally so close to his great enemy. In July 1962 Khrushchev and Castro agreed that the presence of nuclear missiles in Cuba would effectively deter any future invasion. Deliveries started almost immediately.

Kennedy could not countenance Soviet missiles so close to the US mainland and on the 22nd of October set up a naval blockade to prevent further missile deliveries. Khrushchev called this ‘outright piracy.’ As Soviet ships carrying missiles approached the blockade the world teetered on the brink of nuclear war. My 12-year-old self was convinced we were all going to die, but on the 25th Soviet freighters bound for Cuba turned back.

Nikita Khrushchev 1963
German Federal Archive

The crisis was not yet over, some missiles remained in Cuba, and Kennedy considered an invasion to remove them. Convinced this invasion was imminent Castro asked Khrushchev for a pre-emptive nuclear strike.

Wiser heads prevailed. In a secret deal the USSR agreed to remove the missiles from Cuba and the USA would remove its Jupiter missiles from Turkey, the only NATO country with a land border with the USSR.

Since the Crisis

Cuban-American relations had reached rock bottom and had improved little by 2014, though President Carter agreed a measure of mutual diplomatic recognition in 1977. From the start of his Presidency, Barak Obama worked to normalise relations with Cuba. Full diplomatic relations were restored in 2015, travel restrictions were eased and economic initiatives made. Progress has been on hold or in reverse during the Trump years.

Being embargoed by their biggest and richest neighbour has not been easy for Cuba, but both sides have displayed remarkable determination and pig-headedness for 60 years.

Cocktails

‘Free’ drinks in Cuba means cocktails, and the menus were lengthy. Unfortunately, not everything was available. The background music to our stay was the trundle of suitcases as more and more people moved out, while nobody came to replace them. The bars closed one by one and empty bottles in those still open were not always replaced. The shake of a head became an increasingly frequent response to an order as key ingredients disappeared. I asked for canchànchara, daiquiri’s ruder, cruder forebear, in several locations but was repeatedly thwarted.

As I confided in the Viñales post, we are decades too young to have experienced the first cocktail boom, and far too old to have been caught up in the second. While not arriving in Cuba as cocktail virgins, we were certainly inexperienced, but if Jibacoa did not quite bring the variety we had hoped for, there was enough for us to lose our ingénu(e) status.

Piña Colada

I have always suspected I was the wrong demographic for Piña Colada but coconut and pineapple are two of my favourite flavours and with the addition of Cuban white rum what’s not to like? The toothaching sweetness, that’s what! Like Baileys this is a drink which attracts young people, generally young females (I try not to be sexist, but such is my observation) not grumpy old men. ‘Serve with an umbrella for kitsch appeal’ says the BBC Good Food Guide; mine came in a plastic cup - more naff than kitsch.

Piña Colada in a plastic cup, Jibacoa

The Collins Family

I was under the impression that John Collins was whisk(e)y and Tom Collins gin based. I was wrong, they are both feature gin, though different styles of gin. Confusingly, there is a Bourbon based version of John Collins and that is the only one I had previously encountered. Either way the spirit is sweetened and diluted with soda water until it loses its character. Ron is Spanish for rum, so Ron Collins has a better name, but otherwise the same problem.

Tequila Sunrise

Tequila was another drink we had not encountered before visiting Mexico in 2017. As a spirit we preferred Mescal, but Tequila does make a good Margarita. Here, Lynne tried a Tequila sunrise. Grenadine and orange juice give it colour and fruitiness while triple sec lends the tequila a little more bite. Lynne approved, but as the photo shows, I had by this time reverted to Daiquiris.

A Tequila Sunrise and a Daiquiri

And finally, Cuba’s finest….

Havana 7-year-old Rum

Not a cocktail, but a proper after dinner drink, a strong, rich, complex delight to be sipped in small quantities for great pleasure.

Wild Life

The resort is set up for humans - the grass is neatly trimmed, the flowerbeds carefully weeded – but the natural world cannot be completely excluded.

The Greater Antilles Grackle

The Greater Antillean Grackle is a fine name for a very common bird. The Greater Antilles (for those as ignorant as I was until I looked it up) is the northern region of the Caribbean - Cuba, Hispaniola (Haiti and the Dominican Republic), Puerto Rico, Jamaica and a host of smaller islands. Grackles belong to the icterid family, the new-world blackbirds, though few of them (the Greater Antillean Grackle apart) are actually black, nor are they particularly close relatives of the old-world blackbirds.

Greater Antillean Grackle, Jibacoa

It is a handsome bird with shiny plumage and a tail that appears to be turned on its side. Present in large numbers they hopped about the lawns or came to the swimming pool mob handed, standing in a line and drinking thirstily as though committed to emptying it.

Anole Lizard

I think this is an anole lizard, but which of the 300+ species is another question. It has apparently lost its tail, but seemed happy enough, spending most of its day basking on a small rock outside our front door.

Anole lizard, Jibacoa

A Strange Journey Home

We arrived in Jibacoa late afternoon Saturday (21st) and left the same time on Monday. Our first stay in an all-inclusive resort rather confirmed our prejudices; they provide sea, sun, sand and booze and the only clue to the host country is the accent of the staff. If you work hard all year and feel a need to spend your two-week break in ghettoised idleness, then these resorts are fair enough, I suppose, but to anyone interested in travel, they are an abomination. The gods of Covid had decreed we would leave a day early, but we had already begun to feel trapped and bored. I do wish we had spent longer in Havana, though.

The airport is a pleasant 80-minute taxi-ride along the coast. We shared the first 20 minutes with a local company rep. ‘How long were you at Jibacoa,’ he asked. ‘Two days,’ we said. ‘Oh no, what a shame, such a short time in Cuba!’ We told him we had been in Cuba longer and enjoyed visiting other parts of the island. He seemed surprised that anybody did that.

Havana’s small scruffy airport was heaving with people, many in masks, but frequently lowering or raising them to talk as though their mere presence was enough to ward off danger.

24-Mar-2020

Our overnight flight to Paris (the flight we had originally booked, only a day earlier) was full, but on-time and uneventful. Unfortunately, Air France/KLM had consolidated their Birmingham flights, necessitating an extra hop to Amsterdam. To enter the Schengen area, we had to produce our Amsterdam boarding cards to prove we were not staying.

Charles de Gaulle and Schiphol are two of the world’s biggest and busiest airports. With the shops and cafés closed and the concourses all but deserted, walking through them was a strange experience. Birmingham, smaller but usually busy, was the same. We showed our passports, collected our cases and trundled them to the bus stop where we waited in post-apocalyptic loneliness.

Birmingham Airport after the apocalypse

The parking company sent a 25-seater bus just for us; it was the second day of lockdown and only a handful of cars remained to be collected. We drove home along empty motorways and when we got there, we stayed there, because that was the ‘new normal’.

Where are they all?

Cuba

Part 1: Havana
Part 2: Havana to Viñales
Part 3: Walking the Viñales Valley
Part 4: Viñales to Trinidad de Cuba
Part 5: Trinidad (1) The Town
Part 6: Trinidad (2) Valle de Los Ingenios
Part 7: Santa Clara and Che Guevara
Part 8: Jibacoa and a Strange Trip Home