Our Day in and out of Havana

We were to go to the east of Havana to a place called the "Escalaros de Jaruco". Danny had billed this as one of his favorite rides, and we could see why. It was also neat, since we picked up Danny at his home, and his wife and three daughters and one neice came along with us.

The ride itself was, as usual, partly uphill and partly downhill. There was one killer hill, but the rest was easily manageable. Over the 43 Km, we went through some forest, some fields, some towns. Quite varied scenery.

We also stopped for juice and coffee at El Arabe, and mountain-top area Castro built in 1974 with the help of Libyan financiers, for the Cubans (and likely himself). Gorgeous views of the surrounding country and out to the Atlantic.

Then downhill, as I said, through some of the towns and out to our stop in Guanabo for a pizza lunch which was hard to beat. After that, back to Havana, to the Revolution Square,

and then Central Havana before getting back to the hotel.

Supper tonight was out at the best state-owned restaurant in Havana: La Guarida. And it vertainly lived up to its reputation. the restaurant itself is on the third floor of a derelict building, so you go up two flights which are rather nondescript and a bit worrying, then get to the place itself, which is awesome. Hard to believe that this si the same type of ownership as the pplace the night before, where the service was mediocre at best. This was exceptional: the food was terrific, the service was terrific, the venue was great. Some of the folks staying on are going back for more tomorrow night.

Now I'm back at the hotel, having given our good-bye's and ready for bed. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.

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Location:Havana

January 28, Back to Havana

Our second-last day. It seems hard to believe.We were promised, and got, a flat road from just outside Cienfuegos all the way to Playa de Girón in the Bay of Pigs.. Today is the 28th, also a holiday in Cienfuegos because it has to do with josé Marti. So we had to manoeuver the bus around a bit to get past the planned parade. But the we got to the place where wer were to start biking. Road was bad, but clouds few, temperature mid-20s, and wind negligible.so we were happy.

The towns we biked through seemed to be relatively new and well-maintained; we learned later that this had to do with the hurricane whch had destroyed many homes, so the government had to come in and rebuild.

We stopped for lunch and some free time at "Corteda Buena" (beautiful cove). And we soon learned why. The sea was wonderful, and I went swimming with a mask to watch the fish as I swam around. the water was warm and salty: so much so that I couldn't dive at all. It was great.

We had then a two plus hour drive to Havana, along their National Road, which is four lanes, smetimes six, and not at all busy. I read and slept.

Staying at the Armadores de Santadander, a hotel in Old Havana, right on the Alameda de Paula, near the Plaza Vieja. A wonderful old place: our room has 20-foot ceilings, an anteroom as well as a bathroom (with bidet)

and pretty modern fixtures. Of course, this being Cuba, there was a small problem: the toilet did not flush. But Gary and I figured a fix for that, so we're golden for now.

Tonight was supper at a state restaurant in Havana, with lots of meat, and some veggies as well. I'm bushed, so going to bed now.


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Location:Havana

A Day at the Lake

After a later breakfast, we went on the bus a ways out of Cienfuegos to the Botanical Gardens, where we were given a tour by one of the workers there (a man with a degree in botany), of some of the plants among the thousands of different ones there. They have many kinds of bamboo (not native, but growing in Cuba), and banyan tree (again, not native),

a relative of the boabab tree, which is native, and some others as well. While I loved it, and found it interesting, I won't remember much beyond a few days from now.

We then got into the bus and travelled uphill to Habanavilla, a hotel built by Castro for the 20th anniversary of Moncado, and still used mostly by Cubans. This is on a large lake formed by damming the rio Negro (the dam is also a hydro project, one of the few in Cuba). We took a boat down the lake to a place where they have a Cuban-style lunch, which I enjoyed: pork, beans and rice, squash, and of course a cabbage-and-tomato salad. there was also lots of avocado—delicious! I spent a lot of time talking with John, who works in addictions in the US.

Then it was the ride back, on bike. Much was downhill, but a lot of the 58 km seemed to be uphill as well. And I got a piece of wire caught in my derailler, which slowed me for a while.

Supper soon, we hope at the Castle.We actually got to eat at the castle, having lobster served by the most bored waiters I have ever seen, and serenaded by a lady who sang off-key and played a piano which had not ben tuned for many years. She was awful, and then had the gall to come around and try to sell a CD of her songs.

After a tour of the building (and after dinner, of course), we went back to the hotel, and there was a a capella choir singing in the lobby. Thye were terrific. A thrill for me was when they sang one of the songs I sing with the Dofasco group. I bought their CD.

Then to bed.


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Location:Cienfuegos

January 26, out of Trinidad

Today was meant to be a gentle ride along the south coast from our hotel to Cienfuegos. After a quick breakfast, we left the hotel at 8:15, and proceeded along an old road along the coast. Many vistas of the ocean, some sandy amd some rocky beaches, past a few small towns, and over several rivers, to an area just to the east of Cienfuegos. The road ws paved and smooth, and fairly flat. The day was sunny, hot but not dreadful. And the wind was light and behind us. It was glorious, and we did overall 72 km.

When we got into Cienfuegos, our first stop was at an old Yacht club for a lunch. This was delightful as well, and the Club was in a grandiose pre-Revolutionary building.

We then went into the town itself, and toured on foot the wonderful architecture of the town. Including the magnificent old Teatro.

Then back to where lunch had been, to check into the hotel next door. this was also built pre-Revolution, by Batista's brother, and is quite grand. A decided improvement over the previous one.

We just got back from a cruise of the large, calm Cienfuegos Harbour, at sunset. This was pretty special as well.But after supper tonight, we are promised as well to go to a lopcal baseball game between the two best teams in Cuba. Even I can get excited about that.

(after the game) Supper had been planned to be at an old castle in the area, but they (the authroities) put off our reservation by an hour without telling us, so we ate at the hotel. And, as we said, we went to a ball game. What a treat, and I'm not a baseball fan. After we paid our $1 (!) fee to get in, we went to our seats right behind home plate, and settled in.

The energy and the noise reminded me of what I imagine the World Cup games were like. There was always noise going on, and when the home team got a run, the place went wild. Teams seemed to be uneven at first, with at 2-0 score after two innings, but the other team caught up by the end of the fifth.

Around the time of the 8th inning, fog rolled in from the sea nearby, and the game was called. Just as well for José, our guide, since he had bet a bottle of rum with the bus-drivers over the outcome, and it looked like he might lose.

It was a late night, but we were happy.
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A Day in Trinidad

We had plans for today, but like all plans in Cuba, there are complications. we thought, after brekfast, we might take the old tourist train (a steam engine saved from the 1950's) up the "Sugar Valley" to the old sugar mill. But it was not running, so we did a tour of Trinidad instead. This is a very well-preserved classical city, and one which is clearly used to having tourists.

There are many museums and gift shops, as well as flea markets set up for visitors. And there is much to sell: this area makes fine embroidered cotton, as well as having a thriving art community, with both painters and carvers.

The tour took us a few hours, and the we all got back into the bus to drive to the old sugar mill we had not been able to train to. Here was more tourist material, which we looked at, before getting on the bikes to pedal back the 24 km to our hotel. the weather turned hot and windy, and the wind was in our face, unfortunately. so we were glad to get back to the hotel.

Lunch at the feeding trough/buffet, a coffee on the terraza, and then a snooze before supper. We have set up to eat at a "paladar" this evening, in Trinidad. the four of us, plus Jeremy and Ron. It should be better than the restaurants here.

We will then meet the group who are coming in for some outdoor music tonight. It will be good, albeit a bit later than I have gotten used to.

So we had agreed to meet for supper at about 7. All day long there had been taxis at the front walkway awaiting passengers, but of course when we wanted one, it was not to be found. We talked with one of the hotel employees, and they said that they would get a taxi for us. And after about fifteen minutes, a man came up to us and asked us if we were the ones looking for a ride to Trinidad. We said yes, he quoted us a price, and we agreed. He then told us that he had only one car, and we would have to fit into that.

And so began our evening adventure. The car turned out to be, likely, one of the tourist rental cars, and the guy was probably the rental agency rep. It was the size of a Toyota Corolla. And there were six of us, plus the driver. So Jeremy, the tallest of us, got the front seat, pulled up as far as it would go. Ron, Gary, and myself sat in the back seat. Barry sat on GFary's lap, inbetween the two front seats. And Brendan sat on top of Ron, with his head and upper body out thye back window. God know how many laws we were breaking, but I do know that it was cramped, none of us had belts on, and the driver took the long and dark way into town, to avoid the police.

We finally got into the centre of town, where we had been during the day. Barry knew the way to the paladar, and we were greeted there as friends (we had made a reservation before, on the recommndation of a shopkeeper Barry had talked to). this place was in a private home (the bedroom was off one part of the dining area). There was seating for about twenty, most ly in the courtyard of the house. It turned out the chef was in fact an ENT surgeon, who had trained as a Family Doctor initially, then went back to school to become an intensivist, and after being sent to Venezuela for a few years, came back and went into ENT. But he preferred to cook. And his wife was a nurse, when she wasn't serving tables.

Food was excellent: local snapper, rice, veggies, a salad, a cocktail (I had one made from a sugar cane lquor sweetened with honey, and served on ice: it was very good). We had a bottle of wine as well, and the overall price was 15 CUC's altogether (18 with tip). this is per person, but was I think a good deal.

By 9:30, we were ready to leave and go and meet the others from our group who had come into town for some music.

The town has nightly music on the large steps beside the main cathedral, this night a Cuban band playing salsa and cha-cha, mostly modern music. the place was hopping, literally in that many people were dancing. It was very good. But I was ready to go by 11, and we got home and to bed in fair time, given that we needed to get up the next morning early to begin riding.

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Location:Trinidad

the South Coast

Today, perhaps like most days, had both quite good and quite bad aspects. We woke up in this gorgeous hotel in Sancti Spiritus, walked out into the square in front of the place, through the coaurtyard of the hotel in its grandeur, and watched the day unfold. In Cuba, the children go to school erlier, so at 7 the streets were full of kids in their uniforms, heading to the school near us. The streets were full of noisy motorbikes, bicycles, some cars and some trucks. And of course, the engines of the motor vehicles were not well tuned, so there was the constant smell of diesel and unburned oil. But the sky was varied and looked interesting, the square was alive, and the day was fresh. People were setting up for a market near us as well.

We had our breakfast on the verandah of the hotel, and it was adequate if not fancy. I think the hotel had some trouble coping with having most of its guests eating at the same time. But we managed, and even got onto our bikes not long after 8.

We had planned to ride most of the way to Trinidad, about 60 km. The weather at one point looked quite threatening, and we knew that if it rained, we had to stop, since the roads get quite slippery. So we pushed on, and did very well. By about 11, we had done the fifty kilometres we thought we might do, and decided to push on to Trinidad itself, another 12 or so. This we did, and met the buses. But some of us wanted to go further, and I was one of them. After about 70 km, we were told to get on the bus for the final push to the hotel for the night.

That was the good part: good temperature for riding, good roads, good company. this is still cowboy country. The roads were full of horses and horse-drawn carriages, as well as oxen-dran carts. Also lots of bikes, even on the main intercity roads.

This hotel was built during the Soviet times, and it is obvious.

It is a concrete block with poorly-functioning water and electricity. Our room has only one light (there is another, but it works only about one quarter of the time). There were no towels when we arrived. The toilet sticks, so it suns on. The beds are bad. And we are near the open stage, so we get to hear the stage show at high volume, whether we wish or not. Sigh.

But the beach is good, and there is a lot of it. The water is warm and salty. And we watched the sun go down tonight over the Caribbean. Some of us have booked a reservation at the specialty seafood restaurant here, and may go into town tonight as well.

And we're at this place another day as well. So get used to it: the Cuban Gulag, or Chernobl by the Sea.


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Location:Trinidad

Camagüey to Sancti Spiritus, January 23

Today was a riding day. We were worried, because the weather forecast had suggested a cold front bringing rain, and Danny (our guide) said it was unsafe to ride in the rain. But it was only cloudy, and cool. Great biking weather. There was even some blue sky before we left Camagüey.

Our beginning was on the bus, with about two hours on it to get to Moron. We stopped at a place where we thought we might get a coffee and some access to a toilet. However, although it was called a "Rapido" stop, there was one person doing the work, four watching, and twenty in a line. As well, the person with the key to the washroom had not yet shown up, so we couldn't use that. So we left, and found another place further along. Such is Cuba: it's complicated.

Once in Moron, we got on the bikes and began our trip along the road to Adelaida y Falla, and to Chambas. This country was mostly flat, with crops of sugar cane, potatoes (the soil looks like PEI), cattle. And lots of small holdings with many small plots of veggies (cabbage, beans, broccoli, tomatoes, onions, cukes, sweet potato, oranges, papaya). Lots of horses, used for transport (this is cowboy country as well), and used to pull wagons. Some oxen used for this as well. A lot of dogs and some cats. Many houses which looked the same, three or four rooms, one-story, metal roof. The towns were small, with some colonial buildings, and a lot of others. Some in poor repair, some in excellent repair and painted as well.

We stopped for a lunch in San Juan del Rado, at a park with a pool as well as a lake, complete with pink flamingoes.

The meal was Cuban and good, and the pool was warm (although the air was cool, and we didn't swim). Then by bike to our stop at Yaguajay, where we got on the bus for the trip to Sanctus Spiritus.

We are staying at the Hostal del Rijo, an 1818 mansion converted (well) into a hotel with only 16 rooms. We basically have the whole hotel.

We had our supper across the Plaza, and I bought a picture of me with Fidel (well, actually, it is Ernest hemingway, but it looks like me). After a walk about the town, we have returned to the room, and I am writing a few more words before going to bed.

We pedalled 75 km today. About the same tomorrow.


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Location:Sancti Spiritus

On to El Salton

Today was a day of interesting contrasts. It started out slowly, since we were not going to leave the hotel until after 10. A lazy breakfast, some time after that in the room, then pack and get going. It had been nice to be there for a few nights, but I was glad to be moving on.

Because of the road system, we had to drive back into Santiago, then go on a different road, going northwest from there. One of the stops was at the Basilica de Nuestra Senora du Cobre, in El Cobre (copper). This town has the longest-running copper mine in the Western World, having begun operation in the 16th century. The "Virgen" in the Basilica is supposed to have saved three men from drowning sometime in the 17th century, and is now the most revered religious icon in Cuba. She is especially important to the Santeria religion, but most Cubans see her as special and a pilgrimmage there is expected for most people. Even Fidel's mother went there and left an offering to help ensure his well-being during the Revolutionary War.

Of course, with this amount of importance. there goes a lot of hucksters. I was offered many statues for my tee-shirt. I must learn how to say "f--- off and leave me alone" in Spanish. But nonetheless, it was a good visit there, and then we were off towards our riding area.

We stopped in Contremaestre and were sent off with bananas, oranges and peanut butter cookies. While it was lunchtime, there was no place for us to picnic. So we decided to bike for about ten km, and then find a place out of town in the country. This was mountain country, with the hills and valleys to go with it. I had to walk up some of the hills, but made it up on my pedals for most. And the downhills were great. Also the views. We stopped by a river, next to a farm with chickens and turkeys, for a larger lunch (salmon, avocado, bananas, pineapple, oranges, as well as crackers and peanut butter cookies).

It was great, and tough to get going again. But we had a ways to go before it got dark, and a few more hills to climb.

This country has market gardening, with potatoes, tomatoes, oranges, lettuce, cabbage, carrots, etc all growing. On a larger scale, there is a lot of sugar cane, with the distillery near it as well to make it into rum. And some corn and bananas.

We wound our way slowly, having left the good pavement behind, into Cruchos de los Baños, and then on to Filé. We lucked out there, in that there was a street dance being held with some local young people, whoc were quite wonderful. We stopped and watched for ten minutes or so before going off to the El Salton. This, it turns out, is about three km down a dirt road.

At one point, I was alone on the road, and began to wonder what I was doing. But I made it, and the place looks just fine (the fact that they met us at the entrance with a tray of drinks helped a lot).

Tonight I will sleep well: I am very tired. We had done only 35 km, but they were very hard kilometres.


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Location:El Salton, near Filé and Cruchos de los Banos

Another Hotel Day

Today was another boring day: sunny, blue sky, warm, little wind. Actually, it would have been nicer to have one of those things different. It was hot, almost 30 degrees before ten in the morning. And we were going to ride on black pavement, so it was probably hotter where we were.

We got an early start, getting in the bus about 8 to drive a ways past the really rough road to Chivirico, where we were let off to began our ride. Chivirico is a pretty little town with a cinema, several stores, a school and clinic, a central square, and many houses.

They even had curbs on the main street! And the by-now-usual menage of people waiting for buses, or other rides; horse-drawn carriages, trucks full of workers going to their jobs, pedestrians, and so on. In short, city life in the small town.

We set off on mostly paved road with some areas of rough pavement to go over. this was an area hit by two hurricanes in late 2008, and the repair work has started but is far from complete, on the roads at least. After about fifteeen kilometres, we got to a bridge which had been damaged by the storms, with its central support washed out, and a major collapse of the bridge surface. we were able to bike over it, but the bus could not. We thought that was the end of our ride, but in fact the Cubans had worked out a side road down into the river bed and back up the other side, so the bus got through, And, actually, while we were waiting for the bus to get around this obstacle, another truck with a load of dried palm leaves came twoards us over the bridge, as if it were entirely safe.

Some up and down things, as the road wrapped itself around the hills and stayed near the ocean. Some areas were seriously washed out and undermined by the storm, and we had to go up onto the shoulders to ride through them, some areas had only a small amount of damage, and we pedalled through them. And some were intact, pretty well, with the usual potholes. the scenery was anywhere from wonderful to spectacjular, and I got some pictures of it.

The main problem was the heat. By now it was approaching 11:00 and 30 degrees, and the sun was unrelenting. Water was needed, and the buses would stop periodically and re-supply our water bottles, as well as giving us bananas for sustinence. Lots of animals as well (we learned that all cows and horses in Cuba belong to the state, although they are raised by the locals. Sheep, goats, chickens can be privately owned.).

I pedalled overall about 32 km today, and by that time, I was too hot to go on. I went into the bus, and stayed there until we got back to the hotel. Some of the others cycled back towards the hotel, and probably did about 45 km overall. But it was not for me.

The afternoon was quiet. I slept for a while, then went down to the beach, after going through the laborious double signing process to borrow a towel, and swam in the ocean, read and talked to Ron (an ex-teacher from Toronto). We stayed down there until about six, then had the horrible work of arriving for supper.

Tonight I might even stay awake enough to go to the show they put on at this resort. We'll see.


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Location:near Chivirico

January 19, West of Santiago

Today was a great day. Some cloud in the morning when we got up (at 6:30), but we had wanted to be cool, which is why we planned to be on the road by 8. The plan had been to do a circuit tour of Sanitago, then take the ocean road west to Chirivico. We knew that the road had been badly damaged by the hurricanes of 2008, and that many parts of it would be in rough shape, so the plan was to tour the city on good roads, then do as much as we could of the ocean road.

After leaving the hotel, by bike, we went around the traffic circle, the headed east and then north, along a four-lane divided highway, complete with overpasses. But also complete with horse-drawn carriages, converted buses, pedestrians, bicycles, private cars, broken trucks, and even dogs and chickens. What was interesting was watching the people showing up for their day jobs, many in the fields. We saw lettuce and tomatoes, what was likely broccoli, and perhaps carrots as well. And squash of some kind. We also saw people taking this produce, often in sacs held onto their bikes, but sometimes in trucks or cars, off to where they would sell or distribute it. We ended up at Plaza de la Revolucion again, before heading north through the city, to the area where there are oil refineries and factories. For me, this was the unlaundered tour of the city, and it was great. Gritty, but still in better apparent repair than in Havana. More garbage on the street and beside the street than I would like, and there was one river we crossed which looked rather like a cesspool. But interesting nonetheless.

After the oil refineries, we turned west, and then south along paved country roads, past farms (many collective farms) where there began to be a plethora of animals, from goats to sheep to pigs to cows to horses and donkeys. Many cars passed (one stopped and said to me [I think] that they expect to see me in the coliseum because of my pedalling), but gradually the cars gave way to bikes, horses and trucks. Some wonderful views of the ocean and of the mountains. Several small towns with schools full of lovely children. And lots of people out on the road, walking, riding, sometimes sitting, sometimes working. Most waved hello.

The road broke up at points, and the going got difficult, but we persisted. There was several bridges where parts had been washed out, probably during the hurricanes. There was a truck accident: a truck in the ditch, and another truck trying to winch it out again. There was a vineyard and a coffee roasting place. And there were beaches, both rocky and sandy ones. We were many time tempted to stop, but we knew we had a fancy hotel waiting for us.

The bus passed us several times, then waited for us to catch up. There was water with the bus, which was very welcome. And once there were bananas, ripened on the tree, which were different from any I have had before. Lee and I pedalled together, and agreed to pedal until the end of the good pavement, and then catch our bus to the hotel. By now it was past noon, and we figured we had done about 60 km. Eventually the bus came, we fell into it, and were driven the last 9 km to the hotel. We had done almost 70 km today (140 since we started). With the heat, and the bad roads, this was enough. We felt we deserved that extra Cervesa.

The hotel is grand, with the rooms going down the cliff at the side of the mountains, and a large pool, lots of extras, and all-you-can-eat included (as well as all-you-can-drink).

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Location:near Chivirico

Day two in Santiago

Today was to be our first real day of biking here. We went out to a park area to the east of Santiago, past Savilla. Breakfast at 7:30, on the road by 8:30. And you soon learn why you want an early start. The temperature in the early morning is in the mid-20's, and by 10 it is close to 30, if not above. We had about 40-50 km of route to bicycle, and headed off into it with a certain blind vigour. This was soon quenched by the hills and the heat, and most of us settled into a slow, somewhat leisurely trek through the hills and alongside the ocean.

(I should mention in here that Brendan had asked the tour guide—Dan—if he could have a little extra cycling. So Dan set him up with a Cuban who had competed and done well in the national time trials in biking here in Cuba. Brendan was sweating even before he got on his bike! But fortunately, the guy was amiable and they had a good ride out to where we were to start [we were bussed out to this point]. Brendan did well, and the two of these heavy cyclists appear to be friends now.)

The ride out was hot, with several stops for water and resting after hills. We went through a few small communities, each with a school and a health clinic. And rode, as I said, beside the sea for some time. There were mangrove areas by the sea, and the main part of the "beach" area was rocky, but there were some sandy areas as well. And on the other side of the road was a landscape with cacti, hills with jagged rocks unsmoothed by glaciers or even wind/water.

And in one area, there were caves cut into the side of the cliff, perhaps by the water, but also perhaps by pre-historic humans. This was an area of clear significance, since it was fenced off and there were paths around it.

Interestingly, there were a few resorts that we passed, which seemed to be mostly empty. They were flying the Canadian flag, among others, so I assume they were geared towards foreigners. This would be a nice area to vacation.

When we got to the end of the road, we were to turn around and bike back about 10 km or so to a picnic area, where there would be lunch and a swim. However, I was feeling a bit nauseated and not sure if the heat wasn't getting to me. So I took the bus back to join the others. When we got there, we unpacked the bus, got changed, and headed for the beach (beers in hand, of course).

Before I could even get ready for swimming, I was approached by three girls, very friendly and wanting to know about me. They were acting very much like the jinateras that you read about. It was sad, seeing young girls (maybe fifteen) acting like this. When I asked the guide Jose (who is with Cubanatur) about this, he said that I have to understand that they get travel privileges and a lot of money by doing this, and although it is not to be condoned, it can be understood. He talked about how there is now a plan afoot to improve the efficiency of the Cuban economy by letting some people go, and by introducing taxation for the first time. But along with this is a greater freedom for free enterprise among the people, and a desire on the part of the government to increase salaries
to where they are about equal in Cuban pesos and Convertible pesos (now the differential is about 20:1). So who knows what the future may bring. The Cubans are looking to China and to Viet Nam for ideas, and feel that these revolutions have made some progress which can be learned from.

We had some time this afternoon, so we read, swam in the pool, talked and walked around the property. So far, things were good (although watching older Italian men around the pool with teenage Cuban woman was rather disgusting). And we went for supper with the group at a restaurant in Santiago called ZumZum, a government-run restaurant in what was at one point the swanky part of the town—a boulevard with colonial-style houses on either side of the street. Food was good, and the atmosphere was also quite nice. I think we were pretty tired, though, because we were quite quiet coming home in the bus.

Our time in Santiago has been good. It is in better shape than Havana, and seems to be better cared for. And the country around it shows what Cuba is really about. The houses are solid and seem in good repair. the people are working, and look to be well-fed. Schools are present, and the children as always are clean and vibrant. This is what I remember, from before, of Cuba.

Tomorrow we start early and do a ride around Santiago (literally: along the Ring Road), then will try to ride along part of the highway. But it is mostly torn up for repairs, having been damaged in the hurricanes of a few years ago. So we are not sure what will meet us. And we are to stay in a resort in the mountains.

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Location:Santiago de Cuba

January 17, Santiago

I have to tell you about the airplane ride. Well, let me begin before that, and get there evntually.

We were to leave the hotel at 4 AM, which meant for me getting up at 3:30. I had had a coffee the night before which interfered a bit with my sleep, and the bar downstairs from us was particularly noisy last night, at least until about 1. So I have no idea how much sleep I actually got, but it wasn't enough. And the night was hot, so I had decided to get a shower in the morning. I had already discovered that the hot water was really hot (about 50 degrees), and that there was not a lot of cold water pressure. What I found this morning was that the cold water was really hot water in disguise, at least today. There was no way I was showering in water that hot, so I didn't, and my poor seatmates were going to be in trouble.

But the walk to the hotel and then to the buses was magical: there was a nearly-full moon over the old Fort, and the streets were quiet and romantic. We walked from the Ambos Mundos through the Plaza de Armas, and then to the buses. And the buses got us all through the nearly-deserted streets to the airport in good time. Hurry up and wait, again. The flight was to leave at 7:20 and we were there by 5. Got our tickets, waited, went through security, waited, and then got onto a crowded bus which took us out to the plane: a Soviet-made plane—a "Yak"— run by Cubana Air.

After finding our sets, we began to notice the "foibles" of the plane. The guy sitting across the aisle from me couldn't keep his seat upright. The storage areas atop the plane were made of cheap tin metal. The lights were not in the right places for the seats. Etc.

But the real treat was when the plane began its engines. This was when the air conditioning came on, and we noticed what looked a lot like smoke coming up from the floor, including from between my legs. We checked with the steward, and she just smiled, shrugged her shoulders, and said it was okay. We realized that this was likely because the cold air was making the humidity in the air of the cabin condense into a fog. However, after a while, a siren came on which again, sounded a lot like a fire alarm. By now the steward was seated in her own chair at the back of the cabin; we looked at her, and she again smiled and shrugged, as if to say "this is an old aircraft, and these things happen, it's okay". We had to trust them, and in the end it was fine. But it was scary for a bit there. And ninety minutes later, we crossed the Sierra Maestres and the sky cleared as we entered into Oriente Province and Santiago.

The next part went pretty well. We were met by Jose and Danny, our tour guides, as well as the two bus drivers we would have. They packed us all into the two buses and we got to the Hotel Versalles without difficulty. They then spent the next hour or so getting the bikes assigned, fitted out, tires pumped, water bottles filled, and so on. We were able to get into our rooms (although it was only about 10), so we could change into our bike clothes. And we then did a bit of a bike ride (about 12 km) out to the fort at the entrance to the Sanitago harbour. Terrain was up and down, and roads were okay, if a bit rough at places. We passed a military base for special forces, many farms and dwellings. And then got to El Morro, the fort. We had plans to be fed at the restaurant there, and they fed us (too)well. Because we still had to pedal back to the hotel.

Then time for me to have a snooze and a real shower, before they took us on a tour of the City of Sanitago (population about 1.5 million). This town is know as being one of the oldest European settlements in the Americas. Also the spot where the Spanish-Cuban-American War was settled, with the (acknowledged) help of the Americans. We saw the monuments, which are very sympathetic to the US role in this part of their shared history. We then went to the Moncado Barracks, where the Revolution began in 1953, with a botched attack.

Most of the Barracks is now a school, but some has been maintained as a museum. I had seen it twenty years ago, and went through the museum then. They have fixed it up since then. Then to Plaza de la Revolucion, a huge gathering place with an enormous statue of one of the heroes from the Spanish-Cuban-American war, and the representation of 23 machetes (chosen because those were the only things which the farmers could use against the Spanish.

Then down to the Central square (Parque Céspedes), with its old-fashioned church, the City Hall from whose balcony Fidel announced the success of the Revolution,

and the Hotel Casa Grande which featured in Graham Greene's novel "Our Man in Havana". They had a rooftop bar, so of course we went up there, just prior to getting back on the bus for the ride back here to the Hotel for supper and an early bedtime. Tomorrow we ride again.


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Location:Santiago do Cuba

January 16, First day of the Trip

Today was different. It's interesting how you have to take more peoples' interests into account, and how this changes a lot of things. We had agreed to meet everyone downstairs at breakfast in the 7-7:30 time frame. But of course only Darlene and I were there, with Barry showing up a bit later, Brendan not until after 9, and Gary about 8:30. We had talked the night before about going to the Museum of the Revolution, and felt we should do this in the morning. So we set off about 10, with Lee and Bill also (the people from Alberta who we had met the day before).

A walk through the tired streets of Havana, finally coming out to the building that housed the Museum, and which had in a previous life been the Presidential Palace (built in 1913-20). The building was grand, but worn down like all the buildings in this town. It was under renovation, so we couldn't visit it all. But we did see the Revolution things that we had wanted to see. A lot of detail, and a lot of propaganda about the valiant rebels and the awful tyrants who were here before. Some things I did not know, and a lot of things missing from the exposition which I did know. The victors write the history, once again.

There was a part of the exhibit which talked about all the wonderful changes that the Revolution had wrought. We began to read this, but we were tired by then, and it was even more tiresome in its chauvinism, so we skipped it and went to the back of the park area where the actual "Granma" was kept, encased in glass and guarded (the tour guide suggests that this is so that no one can steal it and get away to Florida). Also some of the vehicles and captured materials from the Revolutionary time and from the Bay of Pigs attack.

By now it was after noon, and Darlene and I had wanted to go back to the Parque Central to have a drink and use the internet. Or even the Savilla, which we preferred. So we all walked back to the Savilla (previously the home of the Mafia in Cuba), and the others left us there happy with our intenet access. However, in the end, it turned out to be better at the Parque Central, so we ate and had a drink there. I've included a view from the roof.

All of this tired me right out, and I had to get back to the hotel and rest before supper. We met some of the other bikers from the trip at 6 PM (although as yet no personnel from WOW Cuba have shown up). After a while, the six of us (Barry, Brendan, Gary, Darlene, I and a new friend called Ron) went out for supper at the Center Asturiano, on the Prado. It was the best supper, by far, that we have had in Cuba. All was wonderful, including eating "al fresco". We came home happy.

I am keeping this short, since I have to go to bed and get up by 3:30 tomorrow morning. The trip to the airport begins here at 4, so (sigh) early to bed. Perhaps I'll be wise.
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Location:Havana

Camagüey

This is actually being done in Sancti Spiritus, but I am writing about yesterday, in the town of Camagüey.

The day really began at El Salton, with a breakfast followed by a walk about the area. We had Ricardo with us as a guide, and he was quite helpful in pointing out the various plants and animals of the area. I was able to see what a cacao tree, an avocado tree, and coffee bush and many others looked like, as well as some of the birds of the area. We also visited a local farming family, and enjoyed their hospitality. I felt really bad in not being able to speak or really understand Spanish, but the visit was still good, and we learned a lot.

Turns out that this resort is about 20 years old, and is mostly used at present for a Rehab centre for alcohol and drug addiction, and at this time is occupied primarily by Venezuelans (Cuba rents out its services for foreign exchange, in return for oil).

It was interersting as well because we had stayed in the mountains, in a valley area. For the first time since being here, we were cool at night. And the clothes at we had washed and put out to dry got even wetter with the dew. And I dressed for the valley, not realizing that we were going to be walking to the tope of the hills, where it was hot. So I was quite sweaty by the time we were finished.

The ride to Camagüey was supposed to take about three hours, but we stopped at one place for a break, and another for a pee, and in the end it took almost five hours. We were all tired from the ride alone, even though we had not been on the bikes at all.

So we go into the town after dark, got settled into an older and somewhat beaten-down hotel across from the train station, and had a late supper from the cafeteria. While the food was good, the cafeteria itself looked like a high school cafeteria, all bright green and yellow, and too light.

Danny had arranged for us a tour of the old town on bici-taxis, 11 of them, and we soon were careening around at high speed (as fast as these guys could pedal), going from one square to another. Jose would then get off his bike, and talk to us about the history of that square. Camaguey goes back to 1515, so there's a lot of history to talk about. But as well, this being Saturday night, there was a lot of partying going on, and many people were in the streets. It was a sight to behold.

We were duly impressed, and I would like to come back to the town sometime.

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Location:Camagüey

January 15, Havana

Today was a beautiful day here in Havana; sunny and not too hot. We had wanted to walk down by the Malecon, and also wanted to check out some roof-top patios. And we had to meet Barry and Brendon in the evening.

As we walked down Obispo towards the Capitolio, we were accosted as usual by many people trying to sell us things. We are getting better at refusing, but at the expense of not meeting their eyes, and not greeting anyone.

Darlene had tried to change some of her Moneda Nacional into smaller bills and coins, and discovered that the same bank which was happy to give her the MN money was not at all willing to exchange it for smaller denominations or even to take it back. So we added to our list the try to use up our pesos of Cuban money.

We walked to the Central park, and headed towards the Hotel Parque Central. I was stopped twice and called by name: Papa Hemingway! So that's it, I thought. A large cigar, and I have a job here in Cuba. But we went on the Hotel and checked out the Hotel rooftop, getting a wonderful look at the city from on high. then we decided to begin the Lonely Planet Architectural walking tour, which went along the Prada towards the sea, with some side trips. One of these took us into the Hotel Savilla, which turned out to be stunningly pretty place, and one we intend to go back to (apparently, it was also the favorite of the mafia back in the 1950's). Then again up/down the Prada, a wide avenue which was hosting on this Saturday a large outdoor art exhibition, and a group of others who seemed to be trying to trade accomodations (in Cuba, you cannot sell your house, only trade it).

At the sea end of the Prada, there is a monument to medical students who were killed in the 19th Century for supposedly sassing the Spanish (which they didn't do anyway). And then we crossed the five lanes of traffic to get to the Malecon, a wide walkway along the sea wall which has been there for most of the last century, and is the scene of meeting for poets, fisherfolk, lovers, politicos, and, now, tourists.

Turning off this onto Calle Italia, we went through a large (for Cuba) commercial area and into Chinatown (yes, in Havana, even though there are very few Chinese). And here we were scammed again, getting ourselves talked into stopping for a drink at a local outdoor tavern, buying them drinks as well at exorbitant prices, before heading off again into a chinese alley where we were talked into stopping for a meal. Too much food, but the price was at least reasonable.

From here, we walked through a very disturbing part of Havana. Disturbing because there are a lot of unusual and exciting buildings in this town which are in serious disrepair, and in dnager of falling down (some of them are actually falling down). Some of the less dangerous ones serve as housing for many of the Cubans, but the state of poor repair of many of the places is shameful. What a billion or two dollars could do here! the city is beautiful, but seedy at the same time. And while we might pretend that this has a certain charm, in reality it just is shameful. I don't know what the answer is, since the government just doesn't have the money. But there must be a solution.

At any rate, we needed a drink to get through this, so headed back to the Hotel Parque Central, went to the roof, and had a drink while cooling off.

And tonight we met up with some of the others for our trip and went to El Patio for a better dinner, and better it was. Tomorrow the trip begins in earnest, but not until after supper.


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Location:Havana

January 14, Havana

Today was a day of many things: street sweepers, plazas, old men, dogs, cats, music.

We slept later than we had planned, getting out of bed about 9, opening the doors to our balcony and looking out at the street scene unfolding (which we of course had heard since early morning). We are on the second floor of the hotel, overlooking a corner near one of the Government buildings. Lots of people and vehicular traffic. There are bicycle taxis (called bicitaxis), car taxis, motorcycles, and of course people. There seems to always be a police officer at the corner, whose job seems to be to scrutinize the young women as they go buy. Darlene entertained herself watching the male heads turning each time a tightly-clad, low-neckline mademoiselle walked by (or bouced by, as was sometimes the case). One of the women, though, was a street sweeper, a woman of about 40, it seemed. She wore a hat with wildly coloured artificial flowers, and sang and danced her way across the intersection at times of the morning, to the attention of the policeman and to the delight of us.

In the morning, after our hotel breakfast (buffet, quite nice), we went out for a walk, going west and north from the hotel, and finding our way through several small streets eventually to the Capitolo building, a magnificent building which houses the main government. We also stopped at one of several statues to Jose Marti, walked across to the Hotel Inglaterra (one of the oldest in Havana, and one with decided Moorish tendencies), past the Teatro, and then past the Hotel Sarasota, before heading back towards the Hotel Florida. We stopped by the bank to get some more money changed, and I tried out the ATM, which worked well.

After a stop at the hotel, we went off on what we had decided to do: a walking tour laid out by Lonely Planet, which included four Plazas. We began at the Plaza de la Catedral, where there was a lot of music and frivolity going on: decidely not Catholic in nature. There was a sense of Carnival, enhanced by several people in costume and on stilts, playing music reminiscent of Mardi Gras. We exlored the oldest Plaza in town, decided we wanted to come back for a meal at the Restaurante El Patio (which we walked through), before heading off. From there, we went to the Plaza de Armas (my favourite), several old and grand buildings surrounding a square with magnificent old trees and a statue (? of Marti?, not sure), some fountains, and lots of people. There was an orchestra there playing Cuban music. There were outdoor booksellers in many areas, and generally a wonderful atmosphere to be had.

As we were leaving, we were accosted by an old many who said that he had played with the Buena Vista Social Club at Massey Hall in Toronto, and he had a CD which he just had to sell to us, since we were his best friends. He said he was 95, and he looked it, almost blind, and walking slowly and painfully. We bought the CD; the story was worth it.

From there to the Plaza de San Francisco de Asis, with its old monastery, and several sculptures, one from the 19th Century done by an Italian, one incongruously of Frederich Chopin, and one of a street person who was in that area in the 1950's.

And on past the Museo de Chocolat, with the longest lineups we had seen anywhere, to the Plaza Vieja, another elegant plaza with colunnaded buildings around it and modern sculpture in the centre.

Supper had been decided upon, at Torrelavega, outside, at a fixed price deal (of course they tried to get you to order above the fixed price, but we got what we had asked for, and eating outside in mid-January is still a treat). Then back via an Internet cafe supposedly part of the Hotel Florida, but "it's really on the third floor of the hotel next door which you can get to via the archway by the bathroom, and then take the elevator, but the elevator isn't working, so you may have to walk up". We did, and it is about as fast as a dial-up can be, and expensive. And doesn't work with Macs, so we're out of luck that way. Wireless? forget it!

We thought we might go to the hotel bar tonight, but bed beckons, and looks pretty good.


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Location:Havana

First Day in Havana, January 13, 2011

Last night we left home to go to Toronto before our early flight to the Cuban warmth. Stayed at the Best Western, among a lot of cold and irritated people who had intended to go places where the airports were now closed. It was cold outside, and there was no easy place to park our car, but we managed, and had a pleasant enough evening before heading to bed a bit early.

This morning was the van trip to the airport, and the lines to get our boarding passes, followed by the lines to get through security, followed by the lines...well, you know. The trip left on time, and we were off and running to Cuba!

Intersting for me was that we flew over the US: during George Bush's reign, flights to Cuba had to fly far out over the Atlantic. So this was a three-and-a-bit hour flight, landing in Varedero, to a cloudy, slightly rainy, and warm day.

How nice to be greeted on our exit from the airport by a young woman from Habanatur, with a sign saying "Robert James", who directed us to a waiting cab. Our driver was an older man, who handled the baggage and us with aplomb, and sped us on our 130-km trip to the Big City. It was only after we were a ways waway from the airport that we remembered we were supposed to have gotten our vouchers at the airport before leaving (and we hadn't). We asked the driver; he responded that he had his and everything was fine.

It was a long drive, through varied and wonderful scenery, to Havana. We passed through farm-flat land, over hills, over a 1200-metre high bridge and over several rivers. We even passed by some oil fields which apparently are not producing much any more. Then through a tunnel, around some curves, and we were into the old part of Havana: Vieja Havana.

The city is magnificent. Crumbling in many areas, being repaired in many places, but generally looking like the faded old lady that it is. Streets were built before cars, so they are narrow, and plied by pedestrians (those that are brave enough), bicycles, bike taxis, motorcycle taxis, trucks and cars. The place seems to vibrate with life. Clearly there are a number of things we will need to be doing tomorrow.

Without our precious vouchers, we were not sure how we would get into the hotel. But they accepted our receipt, and we were in, escorted to our room by Tulio (who needed a tip for this). A word about the hotel: think Casablanca-style, think hacienda; it has a central open area which has resident love birds and several real palms in it. The rooms are grand, but relatively modern, with a balcony to look out onto the street, and shuttered windos and doors to allow for ventilation. It is amazing. I may not leave.

Once settled in, Darlene went out for a walk to orient herself, and I lay down for a quick few winks. She came back enthused about the possibilities for walking and eating, so we headed out again at about 6. We stopped to convert some money at the local bank, and proceeded on to find a place to eat. We were soon spotted by someone who could see a sucker, and he took us off to a local house/restaurant (a "paladar" - perfectly legal) for some cuban food. His name was Rinaldo, he says he is a resident in Orthopedics, with one year to go before graduating and getting out of Cuba to go to Portugal. he says he would earn 400 pesos a month here (about $30), and wants more than that. He sat and drank four beers while we ate a lot of food. He told us that, for getting us to this place, he would get some additional food for his family (as well as the four beers, of course). He was delightful, and clearly not afflicted with Revolutionary Thought. And the meal cost us $70, a lot for Havana.

But this is, after all, a part of the experience here. We met someone who was "local". We got scammed a bit, but learned also a bit more about the Cuba of the 21st Century. Our first day was good. And we are tired, so early to bed.


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Location:Havana, Cuba