LITMIR.BIZ

      SOMETIMES HAVANA GETS TOO OVERWHELMING—LIKE today, when my building has no running water and neighbors are knocking down walls accompanied by really bad music. That’s when I know it’s time for an excursion to Parque Almendares. Languishing on a riverside bench, strolling beneath trees so grand they feel like rain forest, or pumping hard on a playground swing is panacea—for the banal, tiresome, and just plain annoying. I imagine it was precisely this tranquility and escape of which urban planner and landscape architect Jean-Claude Nicolas Forestier dreamt when he laid pencil to draft paper. The legendary French designer responsible for elegant gardens and parks throughout Europe (Champs-de-Mars in Paris; Parc de la Ciutadella in Barcelona) brought his talent to bear on the Gran Parque Metropolitano, to which the Parque Almendares pertains, during the city’s halcyon years in the mid-1920s when poets and painters, flappers and dandies fueled by reefer and rum jammed sidewalk cafés and bars to wax eloquent. If you think Havana is wild circa 2018….

      Ultimately, Forestier’s vision of a corridor of connected parks and green spaces from sea to Boyeros and beyond didn’t come to fruition, but a renewed commitment to re-imagining Havana as a sustainable city is now underway and the park is both cleaner and safer thanks to a revitalization project episodically pursued. New riverside landscaping and lighting, fresh coats of paint, and more modern playground equipment have the park feeling downright spiffy these days; if a couple of serviceable public bathrooms were installed and a decent café, this would fast become one of the city’s top recreation destinations.

      Parque Metropolitano covers 1,700 acres and is known as the lungs of Havana for its expansive tree cover and green space; the heart of these lungs is Parque Almendares, accessed by crossing the eponymous bridge at Vedado’s western extent. Immediately upon descending the stairs leading to the park you’ll start to see (and smell) part of what makes this park so enigmatic for habaneros: the forest running down to river’s edge here is an ideal setting for Santería rites and sacrifices and rotting sacrificial flora and fauna dot the cityscape here. Renting a rowboat at the pier (35 cents/hour) and heading down-river delivers an unparalleled excursion through the park’s heart and a glimpse of El Fanguito, one of the city’s most vulnerable neighborhoods.

      The Bosque de la Habana—that of the jungle-like canopy—makes for a cool, pleasant stroll and is a hot spot for Santería rites; should you happen upon one, respect the privacy of the adherents and definitely refrain from taking photos. In 2017, the amphitheater here was re-opened (this lovely, several hundred seat venue saw its last concert in the early 2000s when a Cuban rock guitarist now residing in Spain got too political at the microphone), and there are regular Saturday evening concerts here in the summer. Acerbically droll Cuban folksinger Frank Delgado holds forth here most Saturdays, putting together an entertaining mashup of word and song with invited musicians, poets, and playwrights. The music gets going around 7 p.m. when the sun dips soft and luscious below the horizon—a good option for a cheap, low-key music outing with the kids. Occasionally there are raucous, outdoor music festivals hosted in the parking lots and playgrounds of the park, including the Festival de Salsa each February and Festival Havana World Music in March. Dancing under the stars with hundreds of happy Cubans? Unforgettable.

      HILARITY (OR FRUSTRATION, DEPENDING ON my mood) ensues whenever I mention to Cuban friends Parque Lenin and my desire to go to the rodeo. “What rodeo in Vedado?!” they ask me, in a loud voice, gesticulating with their hands like Cubans are wont to do. “There’s no rodeo in Vedado. Have you gone mad?” I am then forced to clarify, sounding out slowly, like a child: “Not Parque Lennon, Parque Lenin: L-E-N-I-N. As in Vladimir Ilyich.” Such are the trials of a native English speaker in a Beatles-crazed, USSR-influenced, Spanish-speaking land. Similarly sounding, these two parks couldn’t be more different in concept, layout, and purpose. While Lennon Park is easily accessed from any point in the central part of the city, the 1,655-acre park named after the Soviet ideologue is way out on the suburban outskirts, more of a draw for local families and school trips than the stuff of tourist itineraries. Nevertheless, the vast green expanses, varied activities and sites, and chance to mix and mingle with Cubans of all stripes and types make a good side trip—especially if you’re traveling with the little ones.

      You’ll recognize the entrance to the park when you start seeing grazing horses and a larger-than-life-size statue of revolutionary hero Celia Sánchez Manduley, rifle swung smartly over her shoulder. This multi-purpose park was one of her bright ideas, designed to encourage Cubans to get out and enjoy nature, art, sports, and other healthy pursuits; it’s one of the major public projects of the revolution and though a bit rough around the edges in spots—for instance, you’re better off bringing a picnic or buying some barbecue from the cluster of cafeterias than visiting one of the depressing restaurants on the grounds—a recent influx of Chinese investment is having an impact. Attending an event here provides some of the most raucous, authentic experiences

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