Habana Vieja is the epicentre of tourist activity, a labyrinth of alleyways, bulging with architectural splendours, cultural attractions and all manner of pleasure, decadent and divine. This is Havana’s colonial heart, where the capital was founded in 1519 on Plaza de Armas, the city’s most animated square. A vibrant colonial port, Havana’s commercial prowess is still visible in the forts and the remains of the city walls, built to shield Havana’s silver booty en route to Spain. As the Marxists were more intent on saving the soul of the nation after the Revolution, the old town’s sumptuous colonial mansions and ancient palaces were reduced to sepulchral shells, shored up by wooden crutches. Designated a World Heritage Site in 1982, restoration work is breathing life and, arguably, a banal homogeneity. Not the prettiest of districts, and with no real ‘must see’ sights, Havana Centro is usually dismissed by tourists en route to more aesthetically pleasing areas of the city. Paseo del Prado technically marks Centro’s boundary with La Habana Vieja. This serene, tree-lined boulevard was originally outside the city walls, but soon became the heart of the city’s social life, a place for Sunday drives, promenades and carnival processions. The walls were demolished after 1863 and construction of the first luxury hotel, the Sevilla, took 28 years to complete before it opened in 1908. Where El Prado ends, El Malecón begins, a coastal highway and Havana’s front porch, geographically 144 kilometres from Miami; ideologically, light years away. Centro’s main artery, Calle San Rafael, runs west from Parque Central, the heart of the city. West of the golden dome of Capitolio, lies the curiously engaging Barrio Chino. Here, during the 1950s, Graham Greene’s Wormwold was shocked to find ‘every permissible vice’. Its seedy side is now concealed behind a gaudy cluster of pseudo-Chinese restaurants. Further west towards Vedado lies Cayo Hueso, named by the cigar workers returning from Key West in the early 20th century. Down at heel, but high on Afro-Cuban spirit, Santería rituals and artistic expression erupt to the frenetic beats of the rumba. The mercurial municipio of Vedado is a cultural showcase, hedonist’s Mecca and political nerve centre. Laid out in 1859, Vedado was a whizz of colonial planning: a grid of breezy, tree-lined avenues and well-groomed parks, oozing a Zen-like tranquillity. Lured by the promise of an unsullied suburban idyll, La Habana Vieja’s bourgeoisie upped sticks and headed out, leaving the poor to stew in the old town. Vedado’s new, elite-seeking denizens soon established the district’s identity as the cradle of culture. Galleries, theatres and concert halls brought an artistic energy to languid avenues, lined with sleepy neoclassical mansions. US neocolonial rule and capitalist excess transformed Vedado into a post-modern wasteland of thrusting monoliths, sleek art deco tower blocks and swanky hotels. Meanwhile, the mob worked on its psyche. In cahoots with Batista, the Lansky brothers and Lucky Luciano created a tropical Las Vegas, where the A-list glamorama – Ginger, Frankie and co – were jetted in to fuel the American fantasy, leaving in its wake an entertainment Mecca of X-rated nightspots and grandiose theatres. To the west, Vedado wears a very different face: Plaza de la Revolución, a bleak landscape of government buildings, dominated by the iconic monuments to Che Guevara and José Martí. Beyond Vedado, west of the Río Almendares, lies the US-style garden city of Miramar. It is the closest thing to Havana chi chi, with its refined boulevards dotted with art nouveau mansions and coiffured foliage, influenced by the airs and graces of its early 20th-century upper-class residents. As the Revolution came and capitalist excess went, Miramar was transformed into a ghost town, its privileged classes heading off to clone Miami as their Miramar home from home. Nowadays, its soothing suburban languor appeals to diplomats, expats, businessmen and Cuban nouveaux riches, with new, high-rise glossy hotels rubbing shoulders with embassies, shopping malls and exclusive restaurants. It may lack the verve and stellar attractions of other municipios, but it has some of the best paladares and nightlife in Havana. As the 20th century was ushered in, Havana spread its wings. Opulent villas and exclusive seaside clubs sprouted westward, reaching as far as Siboney and Cubanacán in Playa. With the lofty artistic ideals of the 1960s a national school of art was unveiled in Cubanacán, but the ambitious project never crystallized, and the innovative work of three eminent architects now lies neglected. Further west, Marina Hemingway, polished and manufactured, lures seafaring tourists with the promise of all manner of marine endeavour. Eastern development was minimal until the French constructed a 550-m tunnel in 1958 under the mouth of the harbour. From here a highway skirts the coast, cutting through a dour glut of Soviet-style apartment blocks, decaying under the onslaught of salty winds and tropical heat. Hemingway aficionados flock to Cojímar, the seaside village that featured in The Old Man and the Sea, now a modern concrete jungle. Regla and Guanabacoa have maintained their small town identity more successfully. Steeped in Santería, they are a potent immersion into the Afro-Cuban reality without the tourist spin. Sun worshippers play with the locals, or just bask and bronze on the palm-studded beaches of Playas del Este, the nearest beaches to Havana. To the south of the city, you can tour the Botanical Gardens and Parque Lenín, indulging in outdoor pursuits such as horse riding, boating or swimming to blow away the city fumes.
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Havana - £7.99
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