Many workers return to their hometowns, Cárdenas and Matanzas, to seek alternatives outside the tourism sector.
14ymedio, Pablo Padilla Cruz, Veradero, June 30. 2025 — In the 1990s, during the so-called Special Period, the Cuban regime bet on international tourism as a lifeline for its faltering socialist economy. The Hicacos peninsula, better known as Varadero, became in a few years the emblem of the new economic model: all-inclusive hotels, rum, tobacco and a low-cost tourist package that attracted mainly Spanish hotel chains.
But the boom is only a memory. After the shock of the covid-19 pandemic, Varadero is experiencing its worst crisis in decades. The decline in tourism has left half-empty hotels, deserted streets and thousands of workers on the verge of subsistence.
“After Covid we had to reinvent ourselves,” says Maria Carla, a 30-year employee of the restaurant Floridita in Varadero. “There have always been ups and downs, but nothing like the last five years. All inclusive hotels have affected us a lot: tourists no longer leave the hotel, they leave a tip inside to ensure good service and they go away without stepping inside a shop or restaurant outside the complex.”
Maria Carla remembers with nostalgia the days when the city was a hotbed. Today, except for some places frequented by locals, such as the brewery on 43rd street or the bowling alley on 45th, “Varadero looks like a desert.” Many workers are returning to their home towns of Cárdenas and Matanzas to look for alternatives outside the tourism sector.
During the last decade, the official press claimed to have exceeded four million tourists per year, of which more than one million would have arrived in Varadero, but that figure has been questioned even from within.
“At Radio 26, where I worked, everyone knew that the numbers were inflated,” says a former technician from the provincial radio station. “Every December they said that they had reached one million visitors, but there was still a long way to go to reach that figure”.
Competition has also played its part. Punta Cana, Cancun, Puerto Rico, Isla Margarita and the Bahamas offer modern infrastructure and better service. The comparison is humiliating.
“The hotels here look like campsites,” says Anthony, a buffet worker at the Los Delfines hotel. “Shrimp and lobster are almost invisible. And if they come in, we workers fight for them. Our salary is not enough, and when tourists see the environment, the toilets without seats and the leaks when it rains, they don’t leave a tip. If you don’t believe me, pass by Cuatro Palmas on a rainy day.”
“The hotels here look like campsites”
Anthony bitterly recalls a week he spent in a modest hotel in Punta Cana: “In Varadero, it would be in the top ten.” It is not surprising that the state-owned chains – Cubanacán, Gaviota and Islazul – are increasingly turning to national tourism.
“It’s the third year that we come here with the family,” says Elena, a habanera living in Marianao. “My husband and I work hard and give ourselves this luxury. But you can see the drop in service and offers. Still, we had a good time, although every year we think it will be the last. Just three days in a three-star hotel cost us more than 100,000 pesos, and with that we can eat at home for several months.”
For many Cubans from Mantanzas and Cárdenas who work there, Varadero is not just a beach, it’s their livelihood. Every tip, every bag of groceries and hotel leftovers ends up in their homes. “If Varadero is fine, Matanzas is fine,” is repeated as a mantra among those who live on what “falls off the truck.”
Translated by Regina Anavy
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