Cuba is so rich in its history and culture—I love the architecture and its patina (although many on the verge of collapse), the Soviet-era cars, the daiquiris, and of course, the cigars. But Cuba is tough, and I was certainly sensitive to all of its complications. I’d been there once before for a Condé Nast Traveler editorial, but this time, I was there to fish—for tarpon, bonefish, and everything the flats had to offer—like big barracuda, jacks and mangrove snapper. I was traveling with my friend David Coggins (read his account of the trip on his newsletter The Contender) who was writing his second book on fly fishing, and I happily tagged along. We had two nights in Havana before we set out to fish on the Hatiguanico River for baby tarpon (20-50 pounders!), and then headed south to Playa Larga (site of the Bay of Pigs invasion), to fish the flats of Las Salinas for bonefish (and more). Our man on the ground, we’ll call him Mr. R, sent a driver, Pepe, to collect us at the airport in his 50’s vintage Ford (which had some upgrades like electric windows, A/C, and a booming sound system playing Cuban jazz). He dropped us at our guesthouse—the beautifully appointed Jesus Maria 7—a townhouse-style hotel situated on the harbor on the fringe of the old city, with a terrific rooftop terrace with great views of the water—a perfect spot to sip their house rum. The rooms were large with tall ceilings, fitted with period modernist furniture, artless white walls, Murano glass lighting and big bathrooms. I just loved this place and its staff and said countless times that I would welcome a version of it anywhere in the world. Mr. R met us for drinks with all the necessary Cuban kit: 4 boxes of cigars, 2 stacks of cash (black-market traded Cuban pesos) and a burner phone. We were all sorted.
© 2024 Matt Hranek
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