Santiagueros are more passionate about the Revolution because it began there, and the music is more African. Along Calle Heredia in the old part of town, there's several music houses, or Casa de la Trovas. So is the dancing actually. For a city of 500,000 people, Santiago de Cuba is badly polluted. Diesel fumes, poor drainage, cigar smoke, frying food and cheap perfume mingle in a rich stew of street odours, trapped in narrow streets and the hilly topography of the city.
Revolutionary ideology is given currency by the omnipresence of the state-owned media.
Hoardings and billboards congratulate Cubans on '41 years of victory', while the selective successes of the state are broadcast everywhere from radios in spartan barber shops to peso variety stores. As an outsider, all this looks like propaganda aimed at diverting attention from the country's economic woes. Opting to rent a car over the infrequent bus service, we leave Santiago for the town of Baracoa, Cuba's birthplace, at the easternmost tip of the island. Norwegians Nina and Geir had just arrived from Trinidad, and planned to spend five days with their young daughter Carla at Villa Maguana, an idyllic beachfront guesthouse 20km from Baracoa. With this in mind, the attention of hustlers is understandable.