Camaguey, Bicycle City and La Belen

Camagüey, Cuba
Tuesday 24 January 2012

One of the Churches in Camaguey

Camagüey is a bicycle city in a bicycle country. The land is relatively flat in the city and bicycles are a good way to get around. Local transport in Camagüey, as in other towns, is mainly bici-taxi or horse-drawn vehicles. Car taxis are available but not as numerous. The narrow streets of town even have several streets designated as bicycle, bici-taxi, or horse cart roads. Cars are only permitted making deliveries. Our Casa Particular is on one of those streets so we have learned to watch for the bicycles rather than cars. The rest of Cuba is very aware of the prevalence of bicyclists. We have passed a few foreigners touring by bicycles, but not many. The secondary roads are not in the best shape but the motor traffic on even the main roads is light. Even the Intercity buses wait until it is safe to pass bicycles on the main highway.

It is amazing how much Spanish I have forgotten in the four years since I had to use the little I knew. I took some Spanish lessons during or before three of our other trips. This time I didn’t. That was a mistake. Just a small percentage of Cubans actually speak better English that I do Spanish. At least Elsa, who runs our Casa in Camagüey is very understanding and speaks slowly and makes sure I understand. If I had been smart, I would have taken lessons in Puerto Morelos before we arrived in Cuba. Next time I will know better, I hope.

Camagüey received its Unesco designation in 2008 as a result of its history as another one of the first seven towns founded in 1514, its labyrinth of streets, its many plazas and colonial buildings and churches. There are not as many tourists as Trinidad commanded, but there is lots to see and do in the town. Reports of purse snatchings and bicycle ride by robberies seem greatly exaggerated. We have had no problems whatsoever walking the streets both day and night. There are the usual people offering souvenirs and services, and the requisite number of beggars but no one has been very pushy. Usual a simple ‘no thanks’ will send the person on to another likely customer.

Monday I went to Etecsa, the Cuban telecommunication company, to use the internet, but found I was in the wrong office. I couldn’t understand the rudimentary directions the Etecsa personnel gave me to find the correct office. I was ready to return to our Casa and look up the address in our Lonely Planet when a kind lady who had just finished her business realized I didn’t understand where I was to go. She walked with me about six blocks right to the door of the Etecsa office with internet and just wanted a thank you for her efforts. I am not sure that would happen at home very often.

Camagüey has a very strong Roman Catholic presence but their religious beliefs do not seem to interfere with daily life. The recent code announced by the Separate School Board in Ottawa: no form fitting LuLu Lemon Yoga pants and no cropped tops that show a bit of belly, would not go over well in Camagüey. These are favoured outfits of the majority of Camagüeyan women, regardless of age or size. Miniskirts and black net stockings are popular for daytime and the evening wear. Noone could walk the uneven cobblestoned streets of Trinidad in the fashionable high heels worn in Camagüey.

Casa de la Trova Patricio Ballagas, the place for evening music, was a cut above the Case de la Trova in Sancti Spiritus. The musicians were more accomplished and the crowd was more formally dressed. At 10 Pm the action started. We were entertained by a group of two guitars, a bass, several percussionists and drummers, a woman flautist and a male and female singer. The audience danced with flair. One older woman, who must be a regular, danced every number by herself. One man, who had been dancing with a partner, joined her briefly. She was obviously more interested in dancing by herself. We returned for a second show Tuesday, but it wasn’t the same. The age of the crowd should have warned us, but we stayed for the first few numbers. It was a large group again, with a trumpet, saxophone, several guitars, drums and a girl singer. They each had solos the first number but they don’t seem to believe that the soloist should be heard. Most of the other musicians seemed intent on drowning the soloist out, at least that was my impression. Maybe I am just showing my age. There will be another night of music we enjoy before we leave Cuba.

We walked the streets of Camagüey, going from plaza to plaza, each with its church and restored colonial buildings. A local artist, Joel Jover uses Catholic themes in his work, combining traditional and modern themes. Both Jover and his wife Ileana Sánchez have had exhibitions in Toronto and in countries all over Europe. We visited both their atelier and their home to marvel over the riot of colour and variety of styles. Both are very prolific artists. Ileana prefers bright, almost cartoon characters, often combined in a collage of fabrics and other materials. Joel likes bigger works and works on series of similar themes. One we found interesting was his collages of beer can pieces and Madonnas.

Today we hired a taxi, a friend of our Casa Particular, to drive us to the Sierra del Chorillo, range of low limestone hills southeast of Camagüey. Rancho de Belén was a 60 km drive over less than perfect roads, in the middle of large nature preserve. We had arranged with Ecotur, which specializes in nature tours, to visit and explore the area on horseback. A group of about 20 Cubans were taking a 12 day course in Eco touring at the Rancho. They were on their mid-morning break, swimming in the inviting pool, when we arrived. We had neglected to bring bathing suits, so couldn’t join them.



Fiersom horns on these beasts

 Somehow our promised horses were nowhere to be seen. Apparently they had got out of the stable and taken off to parts unknown. We went for a walk with a guide, Jorge, instead. He is taking courses to be a guide, especially for the abundant bird life, so he was happy to point practise his knowledge of birdcalls and point out the birds to us. It was mid-day by this time so most of the birds were hiding in the shady forests but we had a good walk. We passed a herd of cattle with the longest horns we have ever seen, outside of Uganda, sheltered in a grove of trees. We kept our distance and kept walking. By the time we got back to the ranch two hours later, hungry for lunch, the horses had been located and were saddled, ready for us. We agreed to go for a short ride after our more than adequate lunch. Cubans must think all tourists require gigantic meals, judging from our experience.

Jorge took us out again for a walk in the forest this time. My horse decided early on that she was the boss and no amount of prodding from me would deter her from grazing on the grasses and to move beyond a lazy pace. Jorge finally had to take the reins of my horse and lead her behind his. Ray didn’t have the same problem but his horse was not interested in any fast pace either. Not having been on a horse very often our short 45 minute ride was enough for me. The horses were probably glad to return to the stables too. We had a look around in the stables before leaving. The ranch specializes in different breeds of horses and cattle, plus raises antelope and zebras, rather a different mix of animals. We had a longer day than we anticipated but a good one.

Sancti Spiritus, Another Unesco site

Sancti Spiritus, Cuba

Saturday 21 January 2012

Bridge from 1815 across Rio Yayabo

We forgot our own advice to always ask and bargain for taxi fares. Our Casa Particular host rode to the bus station to meet us when we arrived from Trinidad. A taxi driver had already offered his services and we assumed he would give us a fair rate with our host there. Wrong assumption; we knew the bus station was 2 Km out of town, so when the driver demanded $6 CUC, as much as the bus fare from Trinidad, we were shocked. I tried bargaining with no avail. We swear that is the last time we will be caught being overcharged.

Our last night in Trinidad threatened to be a disturbed sleep. It didn’t bother Ray, who can sleep through anything but it bothered our hosts, who worried that about both Ray and I. A cricket had taken up residence in our room and proceeded to sing loud and long as soon as it got dark. We couldn’t locate the pest so I put in my earplugs and slept soundly. The next morning we were up early to get the 8 AM bus to Sancti Spiritus and thought no more about it, that is until I unpacked by bag in our new Casa. Guess who had stowed away? The cricket! He didn’t get a chance to sing another night. He was squished by me and sent to cricket heaven.

Our Casa in Sancti Spiritus was very comfortable and our host helpful. Several of our friends in Ottawa had complained about the variety and quality of food they had in Cuba. We cannot say that has been our experience. We usually eat at least one dinner in our Casa and then try restaurants in the town. All our meals have been excellent, and the portions far larger than we can eat. We have had a choice of pork, chicken, fish, shrimp, and sometimes beef and lobster. Some Casas and Paradores (private family restaurant) serve soup as a starter. With the meat come rice, sometimes beans or potatoes, salad, and vegetables. Dessert is fresh fruit and often a sweet. We usually have a soft drink or a beer with our meal and I have had a few glasses of not bad wine. Overall we have been enjoying the variety of food but we will certainly not lose weight on this trip.

Sancti Spiritus was, like Trinidad, one of the first seven villages established by the Spanish in 1514. Consequently there is a host of old Colonial buildings to admire, but few tourists. Several bus loads arrived in time for a prearranged lunch in a restaurant and a quick tour of town before departing for the next scenic spot on their itinerary. Other than that, we were in the minority.

We had a relaxing day walking around town, taking photos of the buildings, investigating the pretty pedestrian mall, decorated with planters and sculptures, and reading our emails at the Telecommunications office. That is where the fastest connection is, and often the only internet available to tourists.

We kept wondering what product was so popular in each store that the Cubans were willing to endure long line ups outside the store before even being allowed inside to see and buy goods. Even paying a bill in the communications office or entering a bank required a lengthy wait outside. Ray was the one who braved the line ups to get more money. He passed the time in the outdoor line up chatting to fellow potential customers before his turn came to enter the bank. Ray has found that the best method to obtain cash is to use a credit card to make a withdrawal. This required a wait until the clerk confirmed that the transaction had cleared and then getting the supervisor’s attention to OK the transaction. It pays to be patient in this country.

Each town has a variety of musical performances to choose from each evening, most starting at 10 PM. The Casa de la Truvo (troubadour) Miguel Campanioni was right across the street from our Casa. It is a favourite of the older locals. Generally all Cubans love to dance and the crowd at the Casa were no exception. We got to the club a little earlier than most of the crowd, all of whom greeted each other warmly and made sure they had their supply of drinks for the evening. The drink of choice was a bottle of rum and a can of soft drink, which if consumed at all was by the women. Most of the locals don’t like to dilute their rum with soft drinks. They pour it straight into their glass and savour the flavour. We each ordered a Mojito, which labelled us as tourists right away. Ray was offered a taste of the straight goods by the group sitting next to us but I declined. Straight rum is too strong for my taste. We were entertained on Friday night by three different groups; a quintet of guitar, violin, clarinet and percussion and then two trios who played the guitar and sang in harmony. The locals know many of the numbers and sang along as they danced. We haven’t taken any Salsa lessons yet so we were content just to be spectators.

After leaving the Casa dela Truva we took in the scene at the Casa de la Cultura, which was still in fine form just down the street. The musicians performed in the open doors of the building or out on the street. The older fans had seats inside the building but the majority of the younger fans were outside on the sidewalk and spilling over into the park across the street. The old Spanish custom was for young people to walk around the square, looking the opposite sex over. Besides listening to the music, the young people seemed to be observing the same ritual but dressed in the latest fashion, which was decidedly more casual. We stayed long enough to hear one singer dressed like the Mexican Mariachi players and singing a traditional number. He was followed by a man who belted out a number that got the crowd singing along. The music in both venues went on until 1 AM but we didn’t make it past midnight.

Lingering in Trinidad

Trinidad, Cuba
Wednesday 17 January 2012

The Elephant's nose

Trinidad is the town that entices us to linger longer. We find more things to do and places to visit the longer we stay. The town itself is full of interesting districts to explore and both the mountains and the beach are nearby.

We woke up Monday to smell smoke. Looking outside we thought it was just foggy, but soon realized there were fires on the hills above the cathedral, just a few blocks from our Casa. The winds had been strong ever since we arrived in Trinidad on Saturday and by Monday they were occasionally close to gale force. Apparently fires set by farmers to burn off the old crops had started to get out of control. Soot was blowing into the casa through the open courtyard and even into our bedroom. Our host, Anais, was upset at the cleanup required, but was not concerned that the fires would actually reach the Casa. My eyes were beginning to sting from the smoke. This was a good day to get out of town.

We had signed up for a day tour that included a hike to the Salto del Caburni, waterfalls in the Topes de Collantes, a 90 km long ridge of jagged hills about 20 km from Trinidad. Ten tourists from Denmark, France, Germany, Russia, and Ray and I from Canada were introduced to our genial and well-informed guide, Nancy. We all climbed into our transport, a Russian truck outfitted as a bus with open sides and hard plastic seats. The warnings that it would be a cold ride were true. Our warm sweaters and even towels came out to protect us from the chill. Trinidad gets chilly in the evening but the ride up the extremely steep mountain road was colder, especially given the strong winds blowing up from the valley. Looking back towards town we saw the red glow of the fires consuming the fields. It certainly looked scary, but it was far from the mountain we were climbing in the truck.

In the 1800s there were no towns in the mountains, just coffee plantations and workers’ huts. Now there are towns and just a few smaller coffee plantations. Nancy told us that we don’t see coffee from Cuba in our stores because nearly all the crop goes to feed the Japanese market. We stopped at a small restaurant that serves as a museum for the equipment used to process the coffee. Nancy gave us a tour and we all, or those of us who drink coffee, were given a cup of the local Arabica brew to taste. Everyone was impressed with the flavour.

We stopped a short distance from a big concreteHotel, built by Batista in the 1930s as a Sanatorium. Tourists can stay there but the majority of the space is run as a rehabilitation center with physiotherapists and other medical personnel.

We started off on our walk downhill through the forest. The mountain range is the same limestone topography as Viñales, but higher and more heavily forested. Our path led past a bare cliff called Elephant’s Trunk, after a collapsed arch overhanging our route. Further on we saw several colourful trogans. With its blue back, white breast and brilliant red belly, the same colours as the flag, it is the Cuban national bird. The bird always managed to fly off before I could get a photo.

Three Kms after the start of our walk, the muted roar of water told us we were near the waterfalls. The 62 M waterfall cascades in a ribbon of water in several stages through the limestone rocks to a natural pool where we were encouraged to swim. Reports of cold water kept some of our group from jumping in. Ray opted to watch from the rocks but five of us braved the clear water. It was like swimming in the Atlantic Ocean in the summer; freezing at first, but once acclimatized, quite pleasant. It was fun to approach as close as possible to the last waterfall filling the pool and then float in the current back to our starting point.

The refreshing swim was just what we needed before the 3 km walk uphill for our return. We stopped at a restaurant a short distance from the end of the walk for lunch. We had all worked up good appetites by then and were glad of the stop.

Our last stop was at a Mirador where we climbed stairs to a viewing platform to see Trinidad and the ocean far below us. From there it appeared that the fires above the town were contained but some fields between us and the town were still burning. The danger was past.

What is a Cuban vacation without a little beach time. Playa Ancón is a stretch of white coral sand on a long spit 12 km south of town. A taxi ride costs just $8 CUC and the driver will return at whatever time you request. We were on our way for a pleasant and relaxing day at the beach. The waters were clear and warm but most of the corals are farther offshore so the fish population was limited. Nevertheless, we had some good swims, walks on the beach, and time to read our books in the shade of a palm thatched palapa.

Our evenings have been spent enjoying the local music scene. We had lots of choices. One night we went to a nearby restaurant where the town troubadour, Isreal Moreno, plays his guitar and sings. We ordered drinks and enjoyed the music so much we bought one of his records. We may use it to accompany a slideshow of Cuba when we get home. The next night we visited the Casa de Musica where bands play salsa music every night. It is obviously a popular entertainment. The club is at the side of the broad stone stairway on which we watched the Saturday night extravaganza. The crowds had returned to sit on the steps again and watch the musicians or dance. The best dancers in the village were there, many to partner up with women who were taking lessons during the daytime. Waiters made their way through the crowd dispensing drinks. A second troupe took their turn on the small stage. It was the same group that performed African-Cuban numbers on Saturday night. They were awesome.

Today was supposed to be our last day to wander the streets of Trinidad, but we stayed one more day to to revisit Playa Ancon. We even managed a snorkle trip to the reef. Most of the reef is still recovering from the hurricanes a few years ago but the fish have come back. It is always a treat to see them in their natural habitat. We have decided to take the bus towards Santiago de Cuba, stopping at several towns along the way, so Friday will find us in Sancti Spiritus.

Trinidad, Evening Concerts

Trinidad, Cuba
Sunday 15 January 2012

Former San Francisco Convent, now a museum

We couldn’t stay up long enough to see the New Year in, but we made it past midnight in Trinidad watching a gala performance marking the end of the annual Cultural Week of music and dance.

We arrived on Saturday, just after mid-day, on the bus from Cienfuegos to find the Casa Particular we had reserved was full. That was no problem. There are plenty of Casa in Trinidad to house every tourist. Our promised host took us around to find a Casa that suited us. The bedroom in the first one was too small but the second one, a block from the Cathedral and main square, Plaza Mayor. We are in one of two rooms in the old Colonial home of Anais and her husband, Cayuco, and two young sons. I am getting to use my horrible Spanish but the families have all been welcoming. There is a roof top patio to relax on and hang laundry, which is an almost daily chore.

Trinidad was founded in 1514 as one of seven Spanish settlements intended to bring the new colony under strong central rule. Just four years later the town was all but emptied when all the men in the town were recruited to fight in the Mexican wars. Far from Havana and badly protected, Trinidad was besieged by waves of pirates. The town languished until refugees fleeing a slave rebellion in Haiti arrived and established sugar cane plantations in the early 1800s. Newly wealthy merchants built large colonial homes and public buildings, as they did in Cienfuego. Prosperity didn’t last long. The Independence Wars in the late 19th C devastated the economy and it wasn’t until Batista passed preservation laws in the 1950s that recognized the town’s historical value as an example of Spanish Colonial life in the 1850s. So began the profitable tourist trade, culminating in a Unesco rating in 1988.

With the relaxing of regulations for private enterprise, family operated restaurants, called Paladars, expanded, both in size and quality of food. You can walk the streets of Trinidad, watching your step on the uneven cobblestones, and look into the rooms of old Colonial houses converted to Paladars. Antique furnishing and tables set with old silver and a variety of china are the rule. Saturday night we had our dinner in a room at Paladar Sol y Son, furnished as the master bedroom of a wealthy 19th C merchant. The food, very reasonably priced, was excellent. We ate in another Paladar Sunday evening that was good, but not quite as good as the first one. This is a twon to live from meal to meal.

Saturday’s entertainment was to start after 10 PM, on a stage set up next to the Cathedral and Plaza Mayor, with seating on broad, flagstone steps that stretch across the street beside the Cathedral. The audience, a mixture of locals and some tourists, were already waiting for the show to start by the time we arrived shortly after 10. Finally, just on time by Cuban reckoning, the first performance began; a slave era story told through dances with African drum and background song accompaniment. It was the same drum band we had heard practice in Cienfuego. They had told us they were to perform in Trinidad on Saturday night, and here they were. The dancers were very talented, as were all the acts. The African theme was followed by two women singers, one a traditional ballad singer and the other sang more modern Latin American pop. There was a large dance group performing Caribbean Mardi Gras numbers and a group of very limber and athletic men, joined by one young woman for a cat-like interpretive dance. The numbers continued even after we called it a night close to one AM. We were glad we had stayed up to see all the performers.

The Municipal Historical Museum is a must see venue in Trinidad, both for its historical exhibits and for the view of the town and surrounding countryside from its tower. We climbed an ever narrowing staircase to stand on a platform at 20 M above the town to pick out the terrace of our Casa just a block away. The museum is housed in a mansion built in 1827 with large, 7-8 M high rooms arranged around a courtyard. The walls and ceilings were decorated with frescoes and antique furnishing completed luxurious atmosphere.

Every Sunday, several blocks leading from the Municipal Building are closed to traffic, to allow food stalls and beer tents to be set up. Local people come in droves to listen to piped in music and to lunch on pork sandwiches, cut from a whole roast pig. Beer is available poured from kegs into plastic glasses or into 1 ½ litre water bottles. The last Sunday of the festival brought even more people to the streets. We could hardly make our way from block to block through the crowds, but the mood was happy and peaceful, as it has been all week.

Trinidad is turning out to be a longer stop than we had originally planned. There is so much more to do in the area.

Road to Cienfuego

Cienfuego, Cuba
Saturday 14 January 2012

Customs House

What are those monuments along the road, we wonder. Then we know. They commemorate the great victory of the Cubans against the dastardly American invaders in April 1961. This is the road to the Bay of Pigs, Bahía de Cochinos. We are in a shared taxi ride, driving from Viñales to Cienfuegos. A Dutch couple in Viñales wanted to go to Playa Girón, in the Bay of Pigs, so we were picked to make the detour with them en route to Cienfuegos. Reading my Lonely Planet as we drive along, I realize we have missed an opportunity. There is much more to the Bay of Pigs than monuments to April 1961. Playa Girón, the beach where the majority of the invaders landed, is one of the best beaches and diving locations on the south coast. There is also the Península de Zapata, a vast, uninhabited swampland, coveted by naturalists. Unfortunately, it is very difficult to visit the Península unless you stay in the area and make private arrangements. None of the tour companies, as we found out later, run excursions into the area. Our cell phone is not working well enough for us to telephone the Casa Particular we have reserved in Cienfuegos and cancel. We are stuck with our original plan. We let the Dutch couple off at their hotel at the beach and continue on.

Our Casa Particular is one of several old Spanish row houses lining the Paseo del Prado, an elegant pedestrian walkway in the middle of a divided road, the same as the Prado de Martí in Havana. Sra Julia is there to greet us and usher us into her home. A series of salas (living and dining rooms) with 16 ft high ceilings, lead to an inner courtyard, off which is our room. We actually have a bedroom, a kitchen-living room and a bathroom for our use, but we will not be making our own meals. We will have breakfast and most dinners at the Casa. The courtyard, with an outdoor kitchen at the far end, is full of potted plants, a few chairs, a hammock and laundry lines. We unpack and head out to explore the town.

Horse carts and buggies were the main mode of transportation in Viñales and it is not much different here; with the addition of lots of bicycles. There are also horse drawn wagons with seats along each side that serve for short trips around town. They line up near the bus station and take off once they have at least eight passengers. There are also lots of classic cars acting as taxis, but relatively few private cars, so traffic is not an issue in Cienfuego. Neither is it a problem on any of the roads we have driven on so far.

The Parque de José Martí, just a few blocks from our Casa, is the center of most of the architecture that earned Cienfuegos a Unesco rating. Founded in 1819 by a French émigré from Louisiana, the coming of the railroad in 1850 made the town wealthy. Local merchants built large public buildings and a theatre around the Parque and built elaborate homes in an eclectic version of Neoclassical architecture. Every day multiple tour buses park and let the tourists out to explore the town for a few hours and drive on to the next center. Most tour groups don’t stick around long, meaning the evenings are very quiet in Cienfuegos.

We admired all the buildings around the Parque; the Tómas Terry Theatre, the Cathedral, Government house and in the park, fountains, a small Arc de Triumph and of course, a statue of José Martí, who became a martyr for the revolution when he was killed by the Spanish in a 19th C battle. A few blocks away was a a lovely Customs building at the head of the bay, reputed to be one of the most beautiful natural bay in Cuba. All that was lacking was a boat to take tourists on a scenic trip around the bay and enjoy a sunset dinner. That amenity is not yet available. We returned to walk along the pedestrian mall on that stretches several blocks, lined with small shops, displaying meagre goods, and side walk restaurants. We stopped to have a pre-dinner Mojito isitting by the swimming pool in the lovely Hotel la Unión. A Mojito or a Piña Colado either before or after dinner is a nice habit we are acquiring.

The next day we took a long walk along the Malecón, a boardwalk that runs next to the bay on the way to Punta Gorda, Cienfuegos upper-class suburb full of well-kept clapboard houses and rococo mansions. The most elaborate was the Palacio de Valle, built in 1917 with lots of Arabic influences. It is now a restaurant, and was serving lunch to a tour group when we were there. Part of the property was sold off in the 1950s to Batista’s brother who erected the ugly concrete Hotel Jagua. Favoured by tour groups, it apparently is very well appointed and deserving of its four stars.

We had lunch at the Club Cienfuegos, once an exclusive yacht club, now a restaurant with lovely views of the bay. You can charter boats from their Marina, with or without a captain, for a week of sailing the waters of Cuba. Unfortunately they did not have cruises where individual tourists could sign on. Another large tour group was having lunch there so Ray and I took a table on the balcony, a better choice as far as we were concerned. The tourists were mostly Americans, on a National Geographic tour, one of a few companies able to fly directly to Cuba from the United States.

The beach at Rancho Luna, 18 km south of Cienfuego, sounded enticing. We considered staying there for a few days but were advised to try it out for a day first. A tour company we consulted suggested we take the local bus, costing $1 CUC each, to the beach as the alternative was a taxi. We showed up in the morning, reserved a seat on a big Viazul bus to Trinidad on Saturday, and inquired about the bus to Rancho Luna. We were directed to Bay 4, where shortly after a vehicle resembling a jerry-built camper van with big bus-style windows along the sides, pulled up. As tourists, we got preferential treatment. We, and a few other tourists, were allowed to get in the bus and choose seats, from the few available, before anyone else boarded. This was good. Close to the departure time we were joined by the rest of the passengers, who had been waiting in the departure room inside. The object of Cuban public transportation seems to be to fit the maximum number of passengers into the minimum space. We were fine in our seats and less than ½ hour later we were let off at a beachside restaurant in Rancho Luna.

A stretch of coral sand, backed by a line of palm leaf palapas, awaited us. We laid my sarong on the sand beneath one of the palapas, as there were no chairs for rent, and went for a swim. The sand was a little coarser than Cayo Jutias but the coral reef, very close to shore, was similar. Most of the corals had been destroyed, most probably by a hurricane, but there were still some interesting fish swimming around. Ray spotted what was either an eel or an eel fish, another tourist saw a Sting Ray and I saw one of those poisonous Lion Fishes. I didn’t try to touch it. We had a relaxing day, swimming and walking on the beach, but one day was enough. We move on to Trinidad today, Saturday.

Vinales, Caves and Beaches

Caves and Beaches in Viñales
Tuesday 11 January 2012

Santo Tomas Cave

Here comes our taxi to take us to see the Gran Caverna de Santo Tomás. Oh, wow, grab the cameras! We are travelling in a 1957 Chevy BelAir, white with a red roof and red interior. Rock and Roll times are here again!

Five of us, Ray and I, Nina, and Steve and Brenda Thomson, a couple from Kelowna, BC we had met at Hostal Peregrino, and who had just arrived in Viñales last night, had hired “El Popo” to drive to the cave on Monday morning. El Popo told us the car is a family heirloom. It originally belonged to his grandfather, was passed to an uncle, then to El Popo and eventually will be passed on to the El Popo’s daughter when she is old enough to drive.

We took off, Steve squeezed his 6’ 4” frame into the front beside Brenda and El Popo and the rest of us took the back seat. We soon found out there were no seat belts, the windows did not roll up or down and the handles to open the car doors did not all work. The engine worked well, even if it did labour up the hills. El Popo told us he got 5 km to the litre. At $1 CUC per litre, it costs a lot to drive. Ray predicted that if the embargo on imported cars was ever lifted, Cubans could make a big profit buying new model cars and selling their Classic cars. The problem is that there are hardly any original parts on the Cuban Classics. Whenever anything broke down on the car, it was replaced with whatever was available, a Lada or Ford engine, a part from a wrecked vehicle or even a home built part. I bet they would still find buyers anxious for a bit of nostalgia.

The cave, which has over 46 km of galleries, is in a park about 15 km from town. There are usually two guides leading tourists through the caves but one was sick today. We were asked to wait until the remaining guide returned with the first group of the day. We spent the time looking into the government store shared with the ticket office. Everything on offer was arranged on high selves behind the clerks who stood at a counter waiting for customers. Prices were hand written on coloured paper hanging below the applicable article. This was a Cuban department store as it sold everything from mattresses to household goods, used clothing, batteries and even fresh eggs. The title was a little over generous as the shelves were only half full of goods for sale.

Our guide, the genial Mike, arrived, issued each of us a red helmet and escorted about 12 of us to the path leading up to the first cave open to tourists. We had to scramble up 100 M through the woods to reach the entrance. Mike had told us it took 15 minutes to reach the entrance and another one hour to walk through the seven levels we would see; that is unless were Japanese tourists who took four hours taking photos. We took longer than an hour but less than the Japanese. I guess we were not quite as photo happy. Mile pointed out each caves best points and entertained us with corny but fun cave jokes. It was a huge complex, with many openings to the forest. Mike told us the aboriginal people had lived in the caves but no petro glyphs were found in these ones. Each cavern had many stalactites, stalagmites and columns, some resonating with sound if you struck them. Mike played a drum beat on a few of the columns to grand applause and one of the fellows in our group almost outclassed him. One day someone may connect the columns to an organ to play actual melodies, like the Luray Caves in Virginia we visited on a bike tour.

El Popo did such a good job of taking us to the cave we hired him again for a day at the beach. Nina had to return to Havana, but the Thomsons and us were keen to sample the waters of Cayo Jutias, 65 km north of Viñales. It took 1 ½ hours to reach the beach, mostly due to the poor condition of the second half of the road. The Cayo (island) was rached by a long causeway, lined with mangroves on the mainland side.

Two km farther we reached the beach, a long, narrow stretch of white sand with a restaurant in the middle. El Popo parked the car and we made our way to the beach where we chose four long chairs under a palm leaf roofed palapa. It was time for a swim in the crystal clear waters. We had brought our snorkels and masks with us and the Thomsons rented theirs from the dive shop. The water was relatively shallow, so the waters were just the right temperature for swimming and the nearby reef kept the breakers away from the beach. We made our way into the water, avoiding low grass beds, looking for the best corals. Alas, most of the corals close to shore were dead or just regenerating, but we managed to find a few interesting fish to interest us. I made three trips out to seek out the fish, so it must have been good enough to tempt me, but the Yucatan at Puerto Morelos was much better. Nevertheless we did have a very pleasant day, swimming, relaxing in the sun, chatting with the Thomsons and enjoying a small lunch. What more could you ask for?

Vinales, Walk in the Fields

Walk in Viñales Valley
Sunday 8 January 2012

Is Ray smoking that big cigar?

We were glad we had made reservations for a Casa Particular in Viñales before we left Havana. We got off the bus after a 3 ½ hour ride from Havana on Saturday to a crowd of touts desperate for clients for their Casa Particulares. We were very pleased to see a young man with our names on a sign was waiting to lead us to our Casa Particular, Villa El Niño. We walked with him a few blocks to our street lined with pastel coloured small bungalows, ours is pink, opposite the Municipal ball field. Our hosts are a very pleasant couple who share the house with their daughter, Yanet, her husband, Alexander, and their five year old daughter. Ray and I have a double room with a bathroom and a second room was taken by Nina Leino, a Finish woman we travelled with from Hostal Peregrino. Next door is another Casa owned by Yanet’s Aunt. In fact, the small town of Viñales has more Casa Particulares per capita than any other place in Cuba. There are just a few streets in the town but each one has at least five Casas advertising rooms to rent. The burgeoning tourist industry has spawned a healthy restaurant industry and tour companies offering a variety of activities. You can hike, go for a horse ride, visit caves, take a day trip to the beach or just generally kick back and relax. We are doing most of the above.

We have both breakfast and dinner at our Villa. The food is quite good, fish the first night and chicken the second, and far more than we can eat. Breakfast is equally over sized. I have been trying, with little success, to have a tiny lunch to compensate for two large meals.

Sunday, Ray and I hired a guide, Ari, to lead us on a walk through the Viñales Valley. This is the favourite area for horseback rides as well as hikers. Several groups on horses passed us as we started off. We walked about 6 km in all, starting right from the house. Within minutes we were walking through the farmland where the soil is a rich red, perfect for fruits and vegetables, coffee and tobacco.

This is the season when the farmers start to pick the tobacco and hang it to dry. They hang the freshly picked leaves outside on wooden racks, and after 20 days the leaves are moved into a drying barn to cure for another three months. Several of the barns were covered with palm leaf thatching, both the walls and the steeply pitched roof. The tobacco leaves are ready for the next step when the rainy season starts in May. The dried leaves are sprinkled with a combination of cinnamon, anise, honey and water and left to marinate for a year or two. Only then are they ready to roll into cigars. We visited one farmer who explained the cigar making process and demonstrated how to roll a cigar. He also grows coffee beans so we bought a soft drink bottle full of beans to try out at home. We bought 12 organic, homemade cigars for Andrew to sample when we see him in April. We were assured the packaging of palm tree bark and a plastic bag would keep the cigars moist for 1-2 years provided they were kept away from the light. Someone else told us they keep best in the freezer. Time will tell.

The valley is ringed by dramatic mountains called Mogotes (haystacks), some up to 300 M high. The pinnacles are remnants of a limestone plateau that rose from the sea during the Jurassic period 160 million years ago. Wind and rain eroded the limestone and rounded the peaks. Now they are covered in forests, except for sheer cliffs where the sides of the hills have given way. This is the same Karst formations we have explored in other countries such as Vietnam and Thailand. Spelunkers love to explore the many underground rivers and caves in the Magotes and rock climbers come to test their skill on the bare cliffs.

Ari led us to Cueva de la Cava (Cow Cave), a short tunnel accessed by a 120 M scramble up the rocks to the entrance. One rock climber was part way up the rock face near the entrance and another was near the exit. We were not tempted to join the climbers. From the mouth of the cave we had a good view of the valley with Viñales a short distance away. Our descent was a set of concrete stairs, part of which had collapsed. We made it to the valley in short order.

On our way back to town we stopped at a small fruit and vegetable stand where the farmer owner displayed all the produce he grows. To quench our thirst we had a choice of hand pressed pineapple or guava juice. It was delicious.

We soon were back in town, just in time to watch a local baseball team practise for an upcoming game. Baseball is still king in Cuba, despite the growing popularity of soccer and basketball.