After 21 years of back to back winter seasons teaching and coaching upper level skiing my insatiable passion needed a change of direction. To include different travels and more ‘Free Riding’ and Fun skiing for me, and outside the confines of relentlessly greedy and demanding ski schools.
This ‘down under’ winter I stayed at home to enjoy more time in my gorgeous back yard, (The Great Barrier Reef) kayaking and honing skills as a newbie crew member on a IRC. race yacht.
The following spring I decided to return to the USA. and participate in a PSIA. Coaching clinic at Big Sky Resort in Montana, then travel south to enjoy the sway and rhythm of Cuba and a deep dive in a submarine off Cozumel Island in the Gulf of Mexico.
I warmed up for 5 days in “the Greatest Snow on Earth” (Utah) at Solitude in snotty n’damp Pow and then while testing skis at Alta secured the latest powder skis from Dynastar for my road trip to Grand Targee and Big Sky.
Travelling with my Salt Lake City ski buddies Dave and son Sam (whom I had coached at Snowbird) made the trip to Driggs fast and comfortable, and our cabin in a local artists glass blowing compound proved cosy and close to Grand Targee resort.
The ranching town of Driggs is in Idaho, Grand Targee is a 12 minute drive but in Wyoming, and our ultimate goal Big Sky is two hours north in Montana.
Early April was still cold in G.T. and our first day was sensational skiing in calf deep powder, under washed denim skies and virtually no people.It was a classic ‘out of the box’ ski day with expert skier-buddies, leaving fresh tracks every where while “hollering” down the steepest n’ fun slopes.Exhausted we drove back to the cabin, cleaned up and after a nice cold beer enjoyed watching our hosts (Ralph and Mary) blow and roll hot glass into delicate objet d’ art tablewear… soo elegante.
Then we found an excellent ‘relaxed’ restaurant in ‘down town’ Driggs and after a casual Pizza and Pinot at “Provisions” it was an early night, as skiing tomorrow at Targee with this family gang would be another tough day!
Grand Targhee Resort is on the western side of the imposing Grand Tetons (13770 feet) and gets about 450+ inches of quality snow per season but the westerly snow flow can produce skiffy visibility. We spent most of our second day under Mary’s Nipple and in trees between the Dreamcatcher lift and the ‘pow wow’ Sacajawea chair. Eventually finishing our mini roadie stop with a tasty lunch in the ranch style resort and pulling the plug for Big Sky.
Big Sky is BIG, then it combined with Moonlight Basin and become a Monster.
It was nearly mid April and the snow was still cold, the powder epic and our discounted luxury apartment was ski in-out (with a shuffle) making life very smuggish.
It was a three day PSIA. academy and offered every conceivable level of ski improvement choices with the elite national coaches.
I chose to ski with my mate Ron Kipp who was promoting “Balance Enigma” for seasoned fully certified instructors. It wasn’t a ‘free for all, follow me’ focus but did include valuable individual feed back from the master and interesting discussions about the industry’s future, evolving bio mechanics, and changing guest expectations… ya de da de da.
My new powder ski’s were perfect for the fresh boot top snow and ideal for hustling with this ski anywhere group. Ron kept it fun with an upper level focus, and each morning we were blessed with a fluffy blanket of cold boot top pow.
Getting to the top of Lone Pine Mountain in the infamous mini ‘tin can’ gondola provided endless steep shots off the peak and down through the ever steeper ledges and shoulder on the South Face were…well, challenging and more.
Want is steeper… grab your mate and avo gear, sign in at the patrol shack and then scrape down to the entrance of the Big Couloir. Good Luck, with a decent snow pack it’s doable!
Big Sky and it’s ‘lux’ neighbour Moonlight Basin have great skiing, we also enjoyed interesting terrain down sheltered fast groomers and rhythmic bump lines in well spaced trees and glades.
And on closing day the Pond Skimming Party was HUGE and open to every crazy! BIG FUN.
It’s a good 5 hour drive back to Salt Lake City and the following day I was on my way to Cancun on the Yukatan Peninsular, and beyond… to Cuba. Yes, I did leave my skis in Salt Lake City but I did bring my ya ya and boots with me, knowing I could leave them at my BnB in Cancun and collect them before leaving for home in 3 weeks time.
Getting a tourist card visa into Cuba was easy, but not for Americano’s and that’s precisely why I was going, before their invasion! There’s one flight a day from Cancun to Havana and after paying the obligatory cash “Welcome to Cuba”, I was crop dusting the rich chocolate coloured tobacco fields north of Havana. Then after changing my Canadian dollars for Cuban “Convertibles” at Jose Marti Aeroporto a honking and beaten up Lada taxi roared in, and I was off to Havana.
After passing the surprisingly imposing Capitolio Nacional and endless Californian classic convertibles with fins ‘hard-on’ and occupants gyrating to “yer…man” sounds, we careered down chaotic O’Reiley street to my pre booked Casa Particular.
Casa Mercedes is perfectly positioned high above this one way, anyway street and it’s parallel to the flashy and pulsating neighbour Calle Obisbo.
My hostess Mercedes spoke good English and having worked for the government was well connected and forthcoming about life under the Castro regime. Getting to grips with Havana takes courage and an inquiring mind, as there is very little anglo spoken (in their world) and if you are ‘fair’ you will be targeted by the ‘in your face’ Jineteros, (read lazy hustlers and delinquent youth).
I started each day with a delicious and healthy breakfast (fresh fruits, juice, breads n’ jams, scrambled eggs, and thick rich coffee) served in their kitchen, and it always prepared me for opening the front door and stepping into the madness of Havana Vieja.
The buildings of Havana are a treasure of Spanish, French and Baroque styles, usually facing imposing Plaza’s, or Prado’s and luscious and cooling Parks.
Art is an important cultural heritage and the many galleries and co-operatives offer diverse choices to the meandering tourists, many being of similar Caribbean flavour (colouring) but their ostentatious jewellery and glamorous clothing elevate them to “them rich Caribbean neighbours”. Most Cubans are dead poor but they show a gregarious attitude and a satisfied look of belief and contentment, happy with their rhythm of life and harmony, artistic culture and a future which is evolving and softening. They seem positive with the status quo and rebuke the capitalist focused philosophies of their northern neighbours.
Havana is a continuous building site (without consideration to any H&Safety) so tip toeing around the ongoing restorations is often frustrating, but the best way to enjoy the magnificent architecture and arriving at delightful and impromptu musical soiree’s.
There are two currencies in Cuba. Using the local peso can be much cheaper so give it a go for curbside snacks and family stores, and keeping the Cuban Convertibles in one pocket and the pesos in another helps. Cash is King and forget Amex or any US.credit cards if you want value?
Visiting Cuba without enjoying a gulp of Havana Club and smoking a fat Cuban cigar would be sacrilege and my first ‘must do’ was to enjoy a famous Romeo & Julieta ‘Wide Churchill’ cigar in Havana.
My first attempt was thwarted by not having a ticket to the state owned Cohiba factory and as I had left the Coco Taxi at the door I decided to walk, eventually standing in front of the stunning Real Fabrica de Tabacos Partagas cigar factory. This magnificent 16teenth century building had been restored but was closed to the public. “For you my friend” said the elderly concierge “have a puff on my ‘Montesco’ and enjoy going to our Romeo & Julieta factory in Villa Clare”.
Music is Life in Cuba. It drifts and sways through-out the city’s and provincial towns with impromptu gatherings of musicians on Prado’s, or in manicured parks with band rotundas. Making walking pleasurable, stimulating and often leading to passionate street rumba with friends or newly acquired partners.
With youthful memories of Rycooder’s Buena Vista Social Club hits ringing in my head the opportunity to join a reunion of this classic 70’s band at the Taverna on Plazza Vieja was compelling. Dinner and Champagne was inclusive and as the ageing musicians were the younger members of the original 70’s band the atmosphere grew electric, with the elegant dinner tables pushed aside and the bar staff gyrating up on the long Cowboy style bar top.
These guys ‘really got at it’, with enough muso’s ‘hanging’ for this much publicised extravaganza and the continual rotation of different players and musical style kept it going late!
Wow, this was Cuba beyond it’s best and with three generations melting the mix.
It was a reeeellllly lat night and after canoodling around the beautiful sea fronted El Malecon and up through the elegant avenues of Vedado my hostess eventually tipped me out of our Tricycle Taxi in O’Reilly Street!
Sharing a private taxi is the most practical way to travel in Cuba, (ask your Casa host) but my next move was on a public bus to give me ‘the wealthy persons experience and an interesting vista of the country and decaying village life’. Travelling on a Sunday, there were no vehicles on the Russian built 4 lane high way…none, until a horse and cart clip-clopped past on the opposing lane!
Arriving in Villa Clare by bus was painless and the pleasant stroll to Parque Vidal put me close to my recommended Casa Particular. It’s a pretty, leafy park with relaxed families and groups sitting on benches, while children jostled for rides with a wee billy goat pulling a cart. Round and around he went but the industrious owner would not stop his exotic troupe for my photo graphs, such is progress?
Che Guevara made this town prominent with his revolutionary cohorts and my interest included visiting the historic Romeo & Julietta cigar factory. After missing the daily tour, they gave me a free reign wander in the factory (but no photographs) and a guide who spoke a little English.
The large work room was crammed with happy-go-lucky women (along with one solo male) who have been cheerfully rolling the best hand made cigars in the world for more than 20 years.
With much banta and pride they showed me how to select the best tobacco leafs, roll them to perfection and exact weight…then cut them to length before grading for colour, harmony and receiving the magical ‘brand collar’.
After many demonstrations, explanations and my bumbling efforts, I returned to the coffee shop for an espresso and some careful choices for home.
Wandering the back streets anywhere is always rewarding and after stumbling into a specialist stamp dealer (in Villa Clara Cuba?) a genuine unused and pristine Che Guevara stamp, resplendent with beret and star caught my eye and eventually popped into my wallet…such a treasure.
These Gypsy travels were now ‘on the fly’ so I collected my travel pack and checked out the options at the bus station, eventually arriving at Cienfuegos the regions capital.
After grabbing a Bucenero (beer) I joined the locals under the terrazas and kicked back to enjoy the 7 piece band ‘grooving’ on the classic Band Rotunda in the beautiful Parque Josi Marti.
This carefully manicured park with proud statues and monuments is embellished with gorgeous neo-classical buildings including the Teatro Thomas Terry and the Casa de la Culture centre, both lovingly restored with Unesco funding.
That evening Paladar El Criolito (a traditional family managed but state controlled restaurant) served me fresh fish from the bay in their stylish 50’s dinning room and this was a very civilised start to my evening of chance.
The elegant Teatro Thomas Terry courtyard was the heart beat with its enthusiastic salsa and trova music but as I was returning to my Casa I noticed an impromptu gathering on the elevated Paso del Prado and joined in. Originally Prado’s were ‘grand elevated walkways’ with carriage tracks both sides, now they make impromptu stages.
The dancing was fun especially to their hip new-style ‘son’ sounds and the local’s passion for these musicians was indicative of the prominent position music plays in Cienfuegos.
Beyond this Grand Prado is the harbour lapping Malecon and the sea side annex of Punta Gorda with historic water front hotels, local bars, and even a marina with yacht charters. Prepared to splash out a little?, take a room with a view at Hostal Palacio Azul, it’s classy value.
The trendy city of Trinidad was always on my loose itinerary and with time running out I caught a bus to this coastal Unesco World Heritage Site and started exploring the colonial masterpiece in search of suitable digs…and in the action! Following the obligatory blue and white ‘Arrendador Divisa’ logo’s and after knocking on closed barn doors, my reward was a very stylish room off a tropical patio which doubled as a bar and restaurant.
Buri the owner of Casa Bury y Ernistina is an amazingly professional host who fussed over 3 ‘smart young things’ from Milano and myself endlessly. His attention to detail, refined social skills, healthy breakfasts and stylish Creole inspired suppers complimenting this classy Casa Particular.
30 minutes away on the Peninsular de Ancon are glittering sandy beaches with concrete (unfortunately) beach resorts catering to the international Flop and Drop tourists.
My CoCo taxi pilot was happy to wait in limbo while I walked the manicured beaches, googling at the rows of thatched sun shades sans EU-tourists, lollying about like albino walruses.
Not my scene, but further north there are small villages offering more adventurous travelers respite and comfy crash pads. Try La Boca or Casilda.
The three glamorous chica’s made Casa Bury y Ernestina very frizzante and we joined together for memorable meals and impromptu salsa and rumba around the bar and sunken patio.
Moving on was just down the street, and a sweet room inside a stylish art gallery. It was seriously cute and the family were intrigued with my choice to stay. Sleeping in an art gallery……there is always a first, and it was delightful to wake up to the 3 D vista and blinging colours.
The doors were locked late, but they did give me a key to the trapdoor for my night owl return after an evening of Mojito madness!
Returning to Havana in a shared local taxi (actually a belching bomb) was fast n’ furious and gave me time to revisit specific art galleries to buy Cuban art memorabilia and presents.
And the excuse to sleep in a posh hotel, (actually Hostel Los Frailes) is more eclectic than grand) being an old monastery with cloister style accommodation and staff dressed in traditional monk robes.
My “last supper” was at La Taberna del Pescador a brand new fish-bar and grill, established by a gregarious and former fisherman Eduardo who had become disenchanted with the “fresh fish is best” (not) offerings in Havana. Simple and tasty, it left a flavoursome memory of my visit to Cuba. Exotic and involving, tasty and inviting, rhythmic and enchanting. Viva la Revolution!
Escaping the ‘cold war’ edifice (Jose Marti aeropuerto) on Cubana air to Cancun and then a bus ride down to Playa del Carman was easy. This is the stylish gateway to Isla Cozumel and the fast n’ breezy ferry ensures you leave the iconic Mexican Riviera evaporating behind.
San Miguel is party central for Cozumel and my Hotstelito hotel-hostel was a great place to stay.
This day I had time to enjoy the Plaza on the Square, Confetti plaza’s authentic craft shops, and the colourful back street boutiques to avoid all that Americanised cruise ship ruination stuff, and eventually a hot lunch (literally) at La Choza.
Atlantis Submarine has it’s own ticket office-dock and after ‘paying the man plenty’ a small group of tourists (and me) were ferried out to the nearly submerged “dive dive dive” SUBMARINE.
I was last down the conning-cockpit and entered a well lit narrow aircraft sized cabin with comfy seats and lots-a portholes.
Lucky for me, it was half empty and every one moved about at will in search of ‘what ever’ on the Chankanaab reef. Even more interesting for me as my back yard is the Great Barrier Reef which starts 150 metres from my house. Being powered by electric motors was eery quiet and stealth, then at about 100+ feet we leveled out or darkness would dim our views.
Rampent commercial exploration and drilling has taken it’s toll in this region as the reef was mostly grey-dead and the fish were slim and scarce. But, I came for the dive and it was amazing and a stunning end to Skiing, Cigars and this Submarine dive.
Isla Cosumel was authentically Fun and the scrumptious brekky at the local market of Ceviche and Tamales re-enforced my need to stay one more day, in stylish Playa Del Carmen to visit former clients of mine (when teaching at Vail) who owned the Mexican restaurant chain Senior Frogs.
After checking into the vibrant Hostel 3B Chic n’Cheap just behind the main drag (foot traffic only) and a grande Tequila Sundowner on the roof terrace, the stroll to Senior Frogs was enlightening.
It’s right on the beach and next to the ferry promenade, serving eye popping touristy drinks and a Mexican beach-fun menu…. and the cart man makes a mean guacamole at the table.
Being with the owners, everything purred and our pole position ensured attentive and relaxed service with good vibes all round. “Thanks Guys”.
It’s a long way from Playa Del Carman to the Whitsundays…“giddy up”! On a bus to Cancun to grab my boots and ski ya ya, then to Philadelphia – San Francisco – Brisbane and then a connection to Proserpine! Nothing good is easy and this Gypsy ski travel was…unique as they were Invaded! Get it
