The Mosquito Coast...

Vinales and Cayo Jutias Having heard that the Cuban government had invested much time and effort in creating Vinales into their prime tourist attraction, I was sceptical about it prior to my arrival. I expected an attitude much like the other tourist spots which I had passed through in my past 6 weeks in Cuba. Alas, from the very start when we arrived in the Main Street running through the town, something felt different, almost a laid back sense of overachieved status unbeknown to the inhabitants. It's was a refreshing mix of quiet confidence about being Cuban and the fact that this really was one of the jewels in the crown of Cuba, offering much in the way of activities and food, to suit everyone's taste and proclivity.

The guest casa was a traditional family house which dated back to the family as far as the owner could remember. She had inherited it as the youngest of 9 children and had kept the colonial style authenticity of furnishings and flooring. The family all lived in or around the house, helping out with various chores and duties, as is often the case here. They were very warm and hospitable, as is the norm, and arranged both the tours which Eldi took part in. One was a tobacco and coffee excursion, the other a horse back ride to the valley just beyond the town. Both were said to be very interesting and informative on the process of growing, rolling, storing and using of the tobacco plant. A very hands on, arduous process which contributes to one of Cuba's main industries. A family tradition too and the trade is passed down between generations to work the family farm.

I was in the mood for my own solo excursion with my loyal lass, the lovely Penelope. A man called Arturo, who had his own bicycle rental business, as well as being the properties main caretaker and repairman, had offered me up a hand-drawn map of how I could circumnavigate Vinales, by way of back roads and caminos. It was very vague, and occasionally found myself down some disintegrating single track, but somehow managed to find my way around 35km of hills, valleys and muddy caminos. At one point there was so much water coming off the mountain, creating an impassable muddy river of about 100m long, which I ended up on the back of someone's horse getting a ride across the deluge. First Penny was carried across, and after 3 long minutes started to imagine that the now out-of-sight rider had just ridden off with her. I was stranded in the middle of nowhere and would never had had a price to trace or even explain what had happened, or for that matter, why. It was an awesome way to experience the surrounding area and in comparing photos, it seems that the horseback tour and mine were very similar, we just had a thoroughbred in ours....and Penny. Ha. The town was a myriad of casa particulares and restaurants, scattered everywhere. There is to my mind an overpopulation of these and it is easy to find a seat for dinner and a place to rest ones head any night one chooses without pre-booking. The restaurants were varying in prices and menus, but we found one called El Bily, which was more hysterical to the staff than it was to Eldi and myself. We are almost every meal there. It was cheap, central and had a nice energy. There is more to do than what we chose and I could easily have stayed another day in Vinales, it's a pretty and almost un-Cuban town in a sense. There is cave exploring, and climbing and walks to take to various attractions in the area, but there was another lure on the horizon. Originally not really on the path or route which had been tentatively agreed we had been told about a beach called Cayo Jutias, a mere 60km away, but along bad roads and over some hills. Remember that the story is never the same if uttered from different mouths, we decided it was worth a look, not knowing what we would find on the other end. Would there be camping, food, water, etc, etc. It is always a surprise, no matter what receives you, it's never as you had previously been led to believe.

Such was Cayo Jutias. The roads were bad and there were hills in getting there, but figured those are two good reasons that the beach would be sublime and not crawling with tourists. It was a bit of a Jeckyll and Hyde beach. Before 11am and after 4pm it was paradise, no tourists really to speak of, except for those who made their way there under their own steam. The 11-4 crew were all travelers who had got there with arranged excursions. The beach was fine white sand, blue and turquoise ocean, gently lapping up. Flamingos filled the bay, fishing nonchalantly for as many sardines as they could manage and the restaurant decks were seldom busy, as the neighboring dive Centre, sought tourist business. As we arrived via the only road onto the key, having briefly stopped in at the abandoned lighthouse, we were greeted by a security guard for the premises and told that camping was the equivalent of 5 USD each per evening. Fairly reasonable to have the whole place to yourselves. The restaurant closed at 5.30 so we hurriedly ordered a few sandwiches and beers and prepared to erect the tents somewhere. There were a group of 4 Irish people and a friend of theirs called Victor, a resident of Lyon, but a Spaniard from Madrid by birth. He and Barra, one of the Irish guys, had become mates a few years previously. The Irish folk were all now in Canada at different places, teaching Gaellic Irish in universities. I love the Irish in general, and these were no different. Great adversaries of happy humans with a positive outlook and an eye for adventure. We sat around a beach fire, the guards made and Neil sang and played the guitar and different people sang traditional songs. Eldorette even got a go at "Sarie Marais", much to the pleasure of the Irish. I can't sing and don't know the words to anything, so my contribution was pretty limited I have to say, but it was wonderful to see how much everyone involved themselves. The following day when the rest of the tourists arrived we went on the dive Centre boat to a bay a little way up the coast, where there was meant to be good snorkeling. There was an onshore high wind so the water was very choppy and visibility was poor, but we were at a place where it is literally infested with starfish, which one had to dive down a bit to see, but always quite special to see these unusual creatures in their natural environment, as opposed to in a shop window or on a coffee table in Fresnaye. On the return leg we were dropped on top of an old yacht wreck which had run aground somehow. There I managed to see a Lionfish hovering menacingly in the rear entrance. The visibility was fantastic, which made up for the slightly disappointing starfish excursion, but the Lionfish made it worthwhile, just. It was a decent excursion in the end with one exception, I somehow managed to lose my handmade necklace which I have worn for 10 years. It made me a bit sad for a while but then I realized, for the final resting place for the necklace to be in the Caribbean, is actually a good and fitting departure. It goes to the bottom of the sea with memories, demons, experiences and a good dose of something that was typically me. It is what it is, and the old always makes way for the new, so be it. The other thing about Cayo Jutias is that there are more mosquitos there than impoverished Indians in Delhi. It was quite unbearable just after sunset and before about 9am. The mosquitos are also so small, that it makes them difficult to see, almost like "miggie" size. Eldorette's legs have also reacted to the bites, so have come up in welts, probably aided by all the scratching. My legs are a mixture of speckled dots and deep gauged scratches from me scratching the skin away and drawing blood.... So bad was it that we decided to even leave before the restaurant had opened, so we embarked on our 70km ride, on back roads, without food or enough water. The ride was amazing, punctuated by the occasional cloudburst. It was similar to the roads around Knysna, with pine forest mixed in with sub tropical jungle. Eventually, with mud caked bikes, Eldorette's broken left knee (she had a fall on a deceptively flat piece of road whilst taking a drink of water) and two famished cyclists, we found a cafeteria. We ate big stale bread with salami and some peanut brittle, but it was enough to get us back to La Palma, for a night of recuperation, washing clothes, and some aircon. We also found a fruit store on the way back about 5km outside the town, with freshly cut pineapple, mandarins and oranges and a kind lady who dressed (or re-dressed) Eldi's knee and gave her some antiseptic and bandages. Cuban hospitality never ceases to amaze me.

We are going towards San Cristobal today, via the mountain roads. It's about 70km again, but we will be better prepared. As we leave the beautiful aloe covered mountains and rock formations of this area behind, it has been a real highlight, with the amazing caves and steep cliffs coming straight out the ground, like giant cake...as if we were two miniature beings, from "Honey, I shrunk the kids!" A total contrast in many ways from the East of Havana, and if anyone visits Cuba, could highly recommend a visit to Vinales and the surrounding area...but bring Tabard. Onward to San Cristobal and Soroa (hopefully to locate some nice wine) and from there a last stint back at Playa Jibacoa, before departure to Cancun and Mexico. After 3 months on the road, I am starting to crave a steak and a glass of wine and food has no longer any real taste, but just serves a purpose to enable me to get energy to ride the following day. A sad indictment indeed, but again, it is what it is, and sometimes this comes with the territory of exploration and adventure. It's not a holiday, bike packing here, it's damn tough and hard and Eldorette has applied herself admirably to the task at hand. A tough Afrikaner that one, and a delight to share traveling with. There are few comforts on this road we have taken but I have always found the hard things in life make the best and most vivid memories. I have to always remind myself, I am not on holiday, I am on a self elected journey. That is also ok with me. Everybody dies, not everybody lives. Appreciate what you have in life and never moan about how little or how much it may be, just be grateful.