Train to Varadero

I awakened refreshed and raring to go! It was the first day of my holiday in Varadero, Cuba. Whenever I see a new place for the first time, I like to go exploring, so I went to the hotel reception desk to ask them, “ How do I get to down-town Varadero?” A very charming hostess, with the most beautiful smile I have ever seen, told me, in broken English, that I could either walk there in about half an hour, or wait outside the hotel for the bus. But, ...just as I was about to leave, she said with a mischievous grin on her face, and a wink in her eye ... “....o, usted puede tomar el tren, Señor ”



“You say I can take the train Señorita?” I asked. I was taken by surprise. I didn't even know that Cuba had trains. And, next to motorcycles, I love trains. She told me that I could catch the train over by the highway, a short distance away from the hotel. I couldn't believe my luck. Train-spotting was a hobby of mine when I was a kid in England. I used to sit on the grass near the tracks with a pencil and notebook marking down the numbers of the ones we saw. If we were really lucky, we would see a “namer” such as the Royal Scott, the Silver Jubilee or the Flying Dutchman, as they steamed by.

After a while it hit me that I was in the wrong spot. Where were the train tracks? You can't have a train without tracks and a station. Where were they? On the far side of the highway I saw a cluster of small buildings that looked like it might be a train station but I was too far away to be sure. When I got closer, I realized that it was some kind of small commercial park. It couldn't be a train station because there were still no tracks. I was beginning to believe that something was very wrong. How could I have got things so wrong, but when you are in a foreign country, you have to make allowances for mistakes.

As I re-traced my steps back towards the highway, I noticed two girls wearing school uniforms and each carrying a satchel full of books waiting for their bus. I thought I'd ask if they spoke English first because I didn't want to embarrass them or myself by trying to speak Spanish. Their English was very nearly perfect so I asked them was there a train that comes by here. “Si Señor. It stops over there!” pointing to the spot I'd just come from. They said that it comes every thirty minutes or so. I was reassured by their confidence but as I was walking away, I still wondered why I still hadn't seen any tracks. A few minutes later, the two girls came running after me, shouting, “There it is Señor! There's the train!” ...But, they were pointing to the same spot I had been at, earlier.

I burst out laughing so hard I almost fell over! They were right! It was not what I'd expected. It was not a majestic steam train puffing-out billows of black smoke or a powerful diesel locomotive like the trains I was accustomed to. It was a Varadero train. It was love at first sight. It was a miniature electric train complete with a smoke-stack, fake boiler, steel bumpers and large rubber wheels. It didn't need tracks. It pulled a decorated covered wagon for the passengers - and it went to Varadero for only $2.00 Canadian.

The only bus I took during my short holiday was a day-trip to Havana where I discovered the beauty of this Caribbean Island and the warmth and friendliness of it's people.