Bike About South America with Stuart and Anita

Santiago de Cuba to Bayamo.

We actually wanted to finish our year of cycling and touring AT Santiago de Cuba after starting it IN Santiago de Chile. The original romantic plan was to ride East out of Havana and get ourselves to Santiago de Cuba by hook or by crook and maybe a bit by bike and or bus.

After a day of riding our bikes in Havana and feeling the fierce Easterly on our faces, and being reminded by Juan (our Havana Casa Particulares host) and talking to the cyclists in La Floridita that at this time of the year the wind prevails out of the East we recognised that riding TO the East was not going to be very Romantic.

In a spurt of spontaneity we reversed our travel plans and jumped aboard Viazul the premium tourist bus line for Santiago. It didn't start well. We were well used to Capitalist competitiveness and on arriving at the bus station we were greeted by a lady so bored that she might as well have had a hole bored into her head. The epitomy of communist disdain, she couldn't even be bothered to lift her head off of her arm that was resting prone on the serving desk to speak to us. 'No hay boletas’ (There are no tickets) was all we could get from her. We managed to get more sense from the infinitely more helpful information lady in the next booth. She told us that all reservations were taken for the bus but if we waited until 3pm (the bus left at 3:15) then we might pick up a cancellation. It was all very bizarre but we put on our most stoic communist demeanour and began our 3 hour wait. When 3pm rolled around there were indeed, quite magically, available seats and then we had to madly unpack the bikes and load them under the bus. Fortunately, our experience in Colombia had turned me into a speedy bike loader. They fit perfectly upside down with the front wheel and seat off, perched on the rear rack and the front "horns" of the handlebars. Wedged between the bags they were secure and safe.

We arrived into Santiago de Cuba the next morning at 7am and checked into a government hotel with a certain amount of regret as the staff were rather surly but they had internet access and a telephone in the room. Anita had sent out some resumes from Bogota, looking for a job and much to her shock she was being telephoned in Santiago for an interview. It took all afternoon to find the office that sold the internet access card, send 2 emails, and wait for the call. It was all very bizarre but an excellent reminder that our 'real' world was still ticking away at a decent pace out there.

Santiago de Cuba was HOT. You couldn't walk 5 steps without crackin' a sweat. OMG it was HOT and it has been hot historically and culturally for many years. Santiago has an interesting history as a centre for supporting the revolution and for creating some very groovy music. Unfortunately we missed the revolutionary action by about 51 years and a major festival by just 1 day so for us it was simply hot and quiet in Santiago. There were a few bands playing on the streets and one during lunch – but it was enough to get some insight into why Ry Cooder had come to Cuba to record his Buena Vista Social Club album.

We rolled away to the West the next morning and met our first communist community effort when I tried to buy some bread from a man with a horse and cart. His cart was full of bread but he said he could not sell any of it as it was all accounted for in distributing it to the the people. I was impressed by the fact he didn't try to sell me some and make a small profit for himself.

We weren't riding long before we arrived to the sea and the glorious views that would entertain us for the next three days. With turquoise water to our left and the start of the Sierra Maestra to our right and a decent road straight in front we were destined to ride some of the best cycle touring of our lives.

We arrived at Campismo Caleton Blanco hoping to stay the night but they refused us a room as they were too busy painting and prep-ing for a massive influx of guests the next day. We were lucky though as we hung in the shade of the entrance to avoid the heat, Yorke started talking to us and asked if we would like lunch. We said we did and he made like Usain Bolt and sprinted off to organise it. It was all a little strange and under cover as we had to leave separately and meet elsewhere for our clearly illegal lunch. When we arrived at the house of Carlos we had to wait out the front. The two front rooms of his house were destroyed but they were only about 30m to the sea so it seemed likely that Hurricane Dennis had smashed them back in 2005 (I forgot to ask). When we were allowed in we were directed to the back yard of reddish raked earth and chickens and to a table set with a bright white table cloth and good cutlery.

We weren't waiting long before a plate with 5 Barbecue grilled pieces of fish, rice, salad and fried banana came out. The lunch was delectable, the location in the filtered sunlight cool and atmospheric, the sounds of the chickens slowly circling in to the smells of lunch amusing. An ancient, boxy airplane flew overhead while we were eating; Anita thought it might be a spy plane looking for cycle tourists dining illegally but we learned after lunch that it was just the mail plane. The mail is just chucked out the door at each village. Carlos asked us to send him the photo we had taken but not to bother sending any glass ware.

We rode on in the oppressive heat. Anita caught herself some heatstroke and nearly passed out each time we stopped. We met up with Thierry, a French Ex-Pat and his Cuban wife but we couldn't chat for long as Anita was wilting away. On we rode, past beautiful sea views and simple Cuban villages until we reached the turn off to Brisas Sierra Mar. Magically the pavement improved, the lane became shaded and cool and when we arrived at reception we were greeted with our first "all inclusive" Cuban resort. $120USD for two for one night and all you could eat breakfast, lunch and dinner and all you could drink alcohol, cocktails and softdrink. It was like arriving into cyclist heaven.

As we waded across to the swim up bar and watched all the freshly pinked Canadians play volleyball and drink cocktails we revelled in our culture shock. Just down the road was the real Cuba but we were pretty pleased to be in this artificial paradise with sea views, a lovely pool and shade from the sun. The whole thing was a little bizarre. You could drink the water, there was a variety of fruit, vegetables and meat we hadn't seen anywhere for a long while. It seemed a little like a buffet transported from Canada to Cuba, complete with the required Canadians. We talked to some and they were pretty pleased with themselves - $500CAD for a week in paradise including their airfare. $120 seemed very expensive all of a sudden!

The resort has many repeat visitors and was very child friendly. The Scuba diving, by all accounts was first rate. The music entertainment was excellent – surprisingly engaging and entertaining.  Despite that dastardly dehydration we drank a good variety of Rum and Coke, Cuba Libres, Pina Coladas, Daiquiris (which originate from near Santiago de Cuba) and even Chilean Red Wine!  By the end of the night we felt we had soaked of all the free services on offer at Brisas Sierra Mar.

The next morning we continued to savour the indulgence, soaking in the atmosphere and delayed our departure until 2pm. It was indulgent and we paid the price on the ride. The scenery was magnificent but the heat was on and the sun blinding. Heading west is brilliant with a nice tail wind but it is in your favour to go early to keep the sun on your back. We learned a good lesson for riding in Cuba that day.

Throughout the day I lost count of the number of times the road came within metres of the sea. Often we saw parts of the road washed away - primarily due to the affects of that nasty Hurricane Dennis. No effort has been made to repair the road. Indeed, it is amazing there was even a (mostly) paved road out here. We suspect it was built during the 1980's before the Russian’s communist economy collapsed and they pulled the pin on the cash. In the western world it is very unlikely anyone would have built a paved road out here as there isn't the people or traffic to justify it.

But that is what makes it one of THE great cycling trips in the WORLD. The road did have some rough sections but after Chivirico it was very good for cycling. It was relatively smooth and maybe 10 cars/trucks in the whole day. Horse propulsion is the main stay out here. Either on horseback or on horse and cart, life is slow and unhurried. I suspect it’s too hot to work too hard out here anyway.

We arrived into Campismo La Mula on sunset and we were offered a room with ensuite shower and a "Hopeful" fan for the room. For $10CUC (~$10USD) it seemed too good to be true and in the end it was. The shower didn't work. We enquired and the fellow did something and said it would be ready in 5 minutes. After 20 minutes we gave in and had a bucket wash. No problems.

It wasn't long before we realised that the building was mosquito infested and there weren't screens on the windows. No problems! I was jubilant, after carrying the tent shell for 6 weeks from Quito we were finally going to use it. We relocated the beds, inserted the mattress, strategically placed the fan in the tent and after dinner we crawled into our mosquito free sweat box sleeping environment.

All was going well until about 1230am when the fan named "Hopeful" died. At first we thought it had over heated but then quickly realised it was because the generator had been shut down. Bugger. As the sweat began to pore we evacuated our nylon sauna, opened the front and back doors of the room, relocated the tent to catch the maximum breeze in the corridor and settled in again. It was still an oven but now the heat was turned down so we survived the night intact.

In the morning while packing, we met Norbert, a German version of the French fellow Damien we had met in Peru: strong on the bike, and passionate about cycling touring, the only difference being that he carried a map. At 58 he soon proved that even after a year on the bikes we were no match for either his power or his passion. He patiently waited at the top of each hill and over the day we convinced him that the next all inclusive at Marea de Portillo was an excellent investment for replenishing the body with an inexhuastible supply of food and drink.

The prices were expensive for singles at $93CUC, alright for doubles at $116CUC and reasonable for triples at $159CUC. We offered to Norbert to share our room as a triple. After nearly a year of honeymooning I found it quite amusing that we were sharing the 'honeymoon suite'. We didn't tell Norbert until during dinner. I think he was mortified and I was then even more amused.

The resort wasn't quite up to Brisas Sierra Mar standards but the drinks were good and the food endless. We talked to a 70 year old lady from Hamilton Canada. She had been going to the Club Amigo at Marea del Portillo for years. She kept going back as she had a wonderful rapport with the staff. They called her Grandma and she always brought a suitcase full of clothes to her favourite family.  The all-inclusives get a bad rap at times – culturally vacuous, and at odds with the local surrounds. Certainly I have never before been a fan. Indeed, even in Colombia the thought of staying in one would have filled me with dread. They are, however, a mainstay of foreign income for Cuba and as evidenced by ‘Grandma’ they can clearly foster international relations at a very human level.

I was especially intrigued by the attendance of a number of Cubanos at the resort. They were over-weight, heavily gold chained up and they carried an air of confidence with them. It was intriguing as they were not typical Cubans who appear to me as generally very slight, with little jewellery and while proud are certainly not arrogant. In a land that heralds equality it was clear that some Cubanos are 'more equal' than others.

We slept well and left early the next day after an enormous breakfast. In Cuba I have this insatiable need to eat whenever food is in front of me.  It isn’t so surprisingly, really, as the only places to easily get decent food is in restaurants or casa particulares. Cuba carries all the signs of a calorie constrained country with its plethora of shops and small Cubano restaurants that seem to sell little more than soft drink, Rum, very plain pizza and plasticised sandwich rolls. You never really know where your next decent meal might be.

We rolled onto tiny Pilon where we made a sad goodbye to the Carribean sea and three of the best riding days ever. Australia is proud of the Great Ocean Road, California brags about Highway #1 on its west coast and Canada of Nova Scotia’s Cabot Trail but for cycling I haven't ridden anything that matches La Ruta del Mar Magnifico (my own name for it) for simply amazing views, quiet (mostly) paved roads, and tranquility.

We left the coast and headed up and over the shoulder of the Sierra Maestra. It was just south of us in December 1956 where Fidel and the other 80 odd barbuda's (the bearded ones) jumped off their Mexican boat, the Granma and spent three days wandering around trying to figure out how to start a revolution. Indeed, the revolution nearly ended before it started as Batista's army routed them out of a sugar cane field and killed all but 12 of the men. The remnants of Fidel's revolutionaries (including Che Guevara) scampered up into the mountains of the Sierra Maestra that we had rode next to for three days to begin the Revolution. They won it just 2 years later in early 1960.

The climb was a bit steep but manageable. The descent was wonderfully gentle and long with an effortless tail wind pushing us back to another coastline. At the junction for Nequero we said goodbye to Norbert and turned north to Manzanillo. It was a long day of over 100km riding in a hot cross wind but we were buoyed by the constant waves and smiles of the local people. In a tiny town called Media Luna we ate our sandwiches acquired from the 'all inclusive grocery store' at Marea del Portillo and watched a feisty game of dominos. They invited me to play but we decided to roll on as there was no official hotel in town.

In Manzanillo we wanted to stay in a Casa Particulares but they were all full so we opted for a government hotel which was actually very good value albeit a pastel and washed out colour, culturally speaking. We were fortunate though as it had recently reopened after the Mision Milagros had finished. The Mision Milagros was (is?) a Cuban program where Cuban doctors had operated on hundreds of thousands of underprivileged (mostly) Venezualans and Bolivians to help restore their sight. It is an impressively altruistic program to say the least. (I couldn’t find many links in English for Mision Milagros which is surprising as it does form a significant propaganda opportunity for Cuba...)

The next morning we pushed on into the head wind and went north east to Bayamo. It was a tough old day and a good reminder that the dastardly Easterly was indeed blowing nearly ever day and offering suffering to those who dared to ride against her will. In the town of Yara we stopped for 5 cent USD ice cream and then 20 cent USD pizza. It wasn't Coppelia ice cream and it wasn't Garage Pizza but the price to quality ratio was spot on. It was better value than some of the 'CUC' meals we had purchased in Cuba already.

1 Cuban Convertible/CUC = 1.2 Euro = 0.93 USD or about 1USD

1 CUC or ‘kook’ = 24 Moneda Nacional

1 peso ice cream = about 5 cents USD

5 peso pizza = about 20 cents USD

It is very interesting to be out in the country towns as the currency is almost solely Moneda Nacional. The minimum wage (we understand) is about 225 Pesos/Moneda Nacional or less than $10CUC per month. We met one fellow whose son was a manager and earned (from memory) 400 Pesos + 20CUC per month or about 36CUC in total). The dual currency is confusing at first but as you get used to it you can save some money and also get more of a 'real' Cuban experience. That said, a ‘real’ Cuban experience generally (not always) involves queueing for an extenuated period to obtain a product that is generally (not always) substandard. 

In Bayamo we found a Casa Particulares and paid half price just to have a shower and somewhere cool to relax until our bus departed at 10pm for Trinidad. Jesus (pronounced 'Hay-Zus') was one of the sons of the house. He seemed to enjoy being a tour guide for us and practising his English on us.

I spent about half and hour talking to one of his friends/neighbors from down the street. He was 23 and in his last year of an Arts degree. He either suspected me for an undercover Cuban Communist police spy or he was genuinely happy with the government and the system and way of life. Bayamo is a very small town and seems to be relatively prosperous, clean and tranquil. He looked fit and loved lifting weights (His arms were nearly as large as my thighs!) but what was interesting was his passion for being Cuban, his pride in living in a safe town with little or no crime, and the relative equality of his countrymen. I mentioned to him the distressing poverty we saw on the Colombian coastal cities of Barranquilla and Santa Marta and the children that were literally starving in the street and he was justifiably proud of the reality that such a thing would not happen in Cuba.

He didn’t think Cuba was perfect.  He was, for example, clearly not happy that internet access was heavily restricted and almost non-existent.  I don’t think Cuba is perfect.  The list imperfections are long and heavily detailed by the opponents of Communism.  As someone who feels he has been lucky to have been largely ahead of the average I certainly have no desire to live in a highly average communist society where mediocrity, motivation and malaise are often the name of the game.  That said, it is fascinating to see a completely different societal paradigm at work.  It is a paradigm that does actually work (not always efficiently) and one that encourages collaboration rather than overt competitiveness.  We have already seen strong and clear evidence on our 5 days in the countryside of Cuba that it is a society that strives for equality and fairness rather than heralding the advantages of being a ‘have’ over the ‘have-nots’. 

We left Bayamo and south-east Cuba feeling warm from both the heat of the weather but also from the friendliness and fervent communist behaviour of the people.  Clearly many people are happy with their lot and they are not searching out a new revolution in the short term.  It is the first experience I have had where a country is ensuring that all its citizens have a house, good water and enough food.  Cuba does have some environmental horrors on its bank balance but generally they are treading very lightly on the planet. 

Our love for Cuba begins to grow....

Stuart and Anita