After sorting visa which was surprisingly straightforward we left Baracoa on an empty bumpy road and soon reach a beautiful little secluded beach. It was too wonderful not to stop. We went for a swim, were approached by fishermen who cooked us delicious fish and decided to put the tent there. It was absolute paradise
.John spent a long time in the middle of the night gazing at stars and listening to the sound of waves just a few feet from the entrance of the tent (we had worked out that there was practically no tide...) I was slightly worried about "robbers" (the fishermen had invited us in their house for security but as they were not licensed to have foreigners they would be risking their house and we refused) but none materialised and after a hearty breakfast of prawns and fried bananas we bravely cycled on, the road by now had all but disappeared and our average speed was a mere 7km/hour...
We stopped briefly at Alejandre de Humboldt National Park, where with 1000 flowering plants it is one of the most diverse plant habitat in the Caribbean. We were taken on a little boat but saw mainly mangroves. It was peaceful enough and rested our legs.
The next strenuous 50 km were brightened by the presence of Peter, a middle aged retired
Swiss traveller who was cycling to Moa to visit friends and help them get a mattress. 
They had been trying unsuccessfully to buy a mattress for month as theirs had been destroyed in a fire.
When we arrived at last in Moa we thought we had arrived in a place of aftermath of nuclear war. Poisonous fumes were lingering from the nickel mine toxic water leaking and a desolate valley of dead trees as aras one could see...One of the numerous political signs by the road signs said "A better world is possible"...
We were glad to leave the following day but the sun was relentless and although the road surface was better it was full of exhausting ups and downs. We eventually found somewhere to stay that night and set off early for the next stop Mayari.
Our ride from Mayari to Holguin was 90km in the Lonely Planet Guide. It included some steep climbs and on a hot day I had doubts if we could make it. So, when we got lost and unbeknown to us cycled past Mayari by 30 km (how can you cycle past a city without noticing? anything is possible in Cuba...) I was pleased to find a Motel at Cueto and that we had reduced our next day's ride to 60km.
The motel was run by the state telephone company for its employees but they agreed to let us have a room for $CUC35 Convertibles (we usually pay between $CUC20 and $30). Cuban use National Pesos (25 National Pesos to $CUC1), so we probably paid 25 times more than
Cubans... I am not sure where the difference went.
Our room, cavernous and sparsely furnished had graphitis scrawled on the walls. It did have a bathroom though but the wash basin's waste ran onto the floor, the WC had no water for flushing but we were grateful the shower had a trickle of cold water. Nicole would get me to go into the bathroom to kill the cocktroaches before she would enter.
There was a restaurant with loud music blasting from the outside bar and from an extensive menu there was only one choice: fried chicken, rice and fried bananas. We went to bed early only to be woken around midnight by a lorry outside and lots of very nasty and excited shouting. The next morning the peace was broken about 7 am by the lorry which turned out to be a 1950's huge American car. It was evidently used as a taxi by 2 young men who had picked up 2 girls. Much drinking and hanky-panky was going on and when we came out of breakfast we saw 3 of them pushing the car and the fourth holding a tow rope in an attempt to get the car started...
Breakfast was first promissed at 7.00 am, then 7.30 and finally 8.00, but when we arrived we were told there wasn't any food. Ravenous we persisted and tepid coffee was produced as well as warmed up ham and yesterday's bread. The bill was 11 National Pesos (33p).
The restaurant was clearly smart (in the 70's or 80's) when built but had since had no maintenance at all. The ceiling in the centre section was missing (maybe hurricane damage), the remaining ceiling sagging and pieces missing exposing the rafters and asbestos sheeting above. None of the once plush light fittings worked and the lighting for the whole restaurant was by two small temporary fluorescent lights. The tables were all attractively set out with table cloths, glass ware and smart covers for the chairs. the waitresses dress in smart uniforms but no food on offer. they all made some attempt to help us but they ahd no bread delivery and virtually no food to offer us. How could they be expected to be enthusiastic in their attemps?
We stopped briefly at Alejandre de Humboldt National Park, where with 1000 flowering plants it is one of the most diverse plant habitat in the Caribbean. We were taken on a little boat but saw mainly mangroves. It was peaceful enough and rested our legs.
The next strenuous 50 km were brightened by the presence of Peter, a middle aged retired
Swiss traveller who was cycling to Moa to visit friends and help them get a mattress. 
They had been trying unsuccessfully to buy a mattress for month as theirs had been destroyed in a fire.When we arrived at last in Moa we thought we had arrived in a place of aftermath of nuclear war. Poisonous fumes were lingering from the nickel mine toxic water leaking and a desolate valley of dead trees as aras one could see...One of the numerous political signs by the road signs said "A better world is possible"...
We were glad to leave the following day but the sun was relentless and although the road surface was better it was full of exhausting ups and downs. We eventually found somewhere to stay that night and set off early for the next stop Mayari.
Our ride from Mayari to Holguin was 90km in the Lonely Planet Guide. It included some steep climbs and on a hot day I had doubts if we could make it. So, when we got lost and unbeknown to us cycled past Mayari by 30 km (how can you cycle past a city without noticing? anything is possible in Cuba...) I was pleased to find a Motel at Cueto and that we had reduced our next day's ride to 60km.
The motel was run by the state telephone company for its employees but they agreed to let us have a room for $CUC35 Convertibles (we usually pay between $CUC20 and $30). Cuban use National Pesos (25 National Pesos to $CUC1), so we probably paid 25 times more than
Cubans... I am not sure where the difference went.Our room, cavernous and sparsely furnished had graphitis scrawled on the walls. It did have a bathroom though but the wash basin's waste ran onto the floor, the WC had no water for flushing but we were grateful the shower had a trickle of cold water. Nicole would get me to go into the bathroom to kill the cocktroaches before she would enter.
There was a restaurant with loud music blasting from the outside bar and from an extensive menu there was only one choice: fried chicken, rice and fried bananas. We went to bed early only to be woken around midnight by a lorry outside and lots of very nasty and excited shouting. The next morning the peace was broken about 7 am by the lorry which turned out to be a 1950's huge American car. It was evidently used as a taxi by 2 young men who had picked up 2 girls. Much drinking and hanky-panky was going on and when we came out of breakfast we saw 3 of them pushing the car and the fourth holding a tow rope in an attempt to get the car started...
Breakfast was first promissed at 7.00 am, then 7.30 and finally 8.00, but when we arrived we were told there wasn't any food. Ravenous we persisted and tepid coffee was produced as well as warmed up ham and yesterday's bread. The bill was 11 National Pesos (33p).
The restaurant was clearly smart (in the 70's or 80's) when built but had since had no maintenance at all. The ceiling in the centre section was missing (maybe hurricane damage), the remaining ceiling sagging and pieces missing exposing the rafters and asbestos sheeting above. None of the once plush light fittings worked and the lighting for the whole restaurant was by two small temporary fluorescent lights. The tables were all attractively set out with table cloths, glass ware and smart covers for the chairs. the waitresses dress in smart uniforms but no food on offer. they all made some attempt to help us but they ahd no bread delivery and virtually no food to offer us. How could they be expected to be enthusiastic in their attemps?
The whole set up so mirrored what we have found in any state organisation here (90% of the country is state owned): hopeless inefficiency and bureaucracy making absolute economic non-sense in such marked contrast to casas particulares (B&B) and paladares, small restaurants family run, which have been licensed by the state. These struggle to cope with high taxes and irrational regulations imposed
on them to minimize competition with state-owned business, but who give excellent service.
It is hardly surprising the whole country is on the brink of economic collapse. Yet, food rationing ensures everyone has enough to eat, everyone is literate and well educated, benefits from good free health-care and night out costs next to nothing as tickets to theatre, cinema etc are subsidised by the state and considered a right of the people...
More on this later...
on them to minimize competition with state-owned business, but who give excellent service.It is hardly surprising the whole country is on the brink of economic collapse. Yet, food rationing ensures everyone has enough to eat, everyone is literate and well educated, benefits from good free health-care and night out costs next to nothing as tickets to theatre, cinema etc are subsidised by the state and considered a right of the people...
More on this later...
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