For a long time, I considered the small village where my parents live a dull and grey place. I was young. I didn't see, or enjoy things as I do today when I feel that - maybe - I'm ageing too fast. Nah, it's a different approach to life and what makes it up.
How can a settlement dating back to the 1800s be boring, adorned by beautiful blue mountains, spectacular to walk into and see first-hand the treasures they hold? My parents live in an exquisite spot where enjoying the bounties of nature, so beautiful and wise and close, can even go unnoticed. How could I not notice it?
You look to one side and you have ‘al cantío del gallo’ (very close), as the peasants say, Soroa, its great orchid garden, river and waterfall. Coffee plantations in the mountains, a biosphere reserve community, called Las Terrazas, with exquisite baths in its San Juan River, a lake, a 100% natural camping site called La Chorrera; a refreshing pool known as The Blue Puddle... I can go on naming things, like a castle in the clouds. Let's go! Where was I all this time? 🤷♀
The geographical situation of Candelaria offers the most beautiful perspective that can be given: It imperceptibly forms a flat elevation that dominates all sides without being dominated by any, and no doubt the view of the curious traveller or observer is pleasantly pleased and satisfied with that of the extensive savannah to the south and the picturesque mountain range of the hills of springs, distant about a league and a half to the north, where the steep ridges of the Mogote, named by the illustrious surveyor Don Tranquilino Sandalio de Noda, stand out. Ecured
But in life, there is always time to think again. I'm going to have to take advantage of all that lost time and plan more excursions to Candelaria. It's not that complicated to get there. The trip takes a little over an hour on the Havana-Pinar highway, starting from the bridge at 100th Avenue and Boyeros.
As for transport, there are several options there. Modern cars go to the city of Pinar del Río for 1500 CUP, about 4.69 USD, depending on the informal exchange rate, as well as buses or trucks with slightly cheaper fares.
Candelaria is less than halfway, but if you decide to go by the more comfortable options, you will have to pay the full fare as if you were going to Pinar del Río. Things that only we Cubans understand.
For the moment, join me in walking just two or three streets of this town. We have to go back in time a bit, but I'll tell you the story behind each photo.
It all started when... I realised that I only had one afternoon to reconnect with the people and I escaped from my mother's birthday. She says that, but it wasn't quite like that... I had spent the day in bed, with a fever and strange pains, until I decided to get out of that state, took a shower, put on my TravelFeed t-shirt and with the camera around my neck, you know, I entered my meditative state.
Horses. The noble animal was pulling a wagon and was the first thing that caught my attention in the street I had just joined. I would walk to the end of that street to visit the Secondary School, where I studied.
It would be about six or seven blocks, no more, to get to school.
I walked slowly, stopping sometimes to look at the sky and the golden light projected on the modest little houses.
I met the barber.
The people of Candelaria are friendly and smiling. Like most of the small towns of our geography, it does not escape the neglect and abandonment caused by an economic situation that is becoming more and more difficult.
Still, people try to keep their homes as presentable as possible. In this country eating is becoming an odyssey, so the maintenance, repair and construction of real estate is something that has no concrete way of being expressed. So we Cubans have a phrase for this kind of thing, and it's the well-worn ‘sin palabras’ (without words).
That you see in the background is the bus stop in the centre of town. Since their foundation, these settlements have been characterised by a main park, around which the government offices, the church and the house of culture are located.
I am walking down a street parallel to the main street of the village. This is what is to my right as I head towards the secondary school, and to my left... well, the landscape of the blue mountains.
Nothing has changed. It's as if time has stopped... but let's move on, I wasn't looking my best.
Oh, one of those old cars, or Almendron, as we usually call it. It looks quite well preserved.
This is the central road, the main street of Candelaria, which leads to Artemisa, the main municipality of the province, and other small picturesque villages that it would not be a bad idea to visit by bike.
But I'm going back to my mother's birthday... remember that's where I escaped from. So I'm heading in the opposite direction.
It's not that I want to portray destruction, it's just that it saddens me a little to see the general state of the shingle houses on the main street.
But the Cuban always brings a smile to your face. Here I was introduced to Manolo, the little pig, and I was laughing with this man who, when he saw me with the camera, decided it was a great opportunity to immortalise his friend.
It is not the village; any place has charm. It's what we carry inside us: that joy of living, of being surprised by the smallest things and of being loving and simple people.
Original content by @nanixxx. All rights reserved ©, 2024.
[//]:# (!worldmappin 22.74095 lat -82.95725 long Meditations in pictures d3scr)
