Refreshed, Sunned and Rolling

Refreshed and Rolling.. After I put my best foot forward to get myself tanned from head to toe and get rid of the ridiculously fluorescent bits which adorned my torso in a typical cyclist pattern, not a good look in anyone's books, the result was spectacular, that being red. I'll tell you this much for free, if you want to feel less floppy around the edges, don't go on diet or over exert, just get brown, works a treat! That's my story and I'm sticking to it! It was a good thing then that I had not ever turned off the air on in the room I had rented in Playa Larga, and on my return, it did a good job soothing the continuous warm all over throb which was emanating forth non stop. What also aided the sunburn was the ice cold beers I had in my freezer, and mixed with some lemon cold drink, proceeded to sit on the deck over looking the inlet and tried my hand at some poetry. I guess like anything written, this kind of prose is completely subjective, and am not sure I feel like sharing these attempts at this new form of creative expression. The day on the beach was just the tonic. I was alone bar one or two occasional stray dogs and one other tourist, bliss. I managed to immerse myself into a new degree of relaxedness and aided by my iPod, drifted off to all sorts of different times in my life, distantly removed and some more recent recollections. I love music for that reason, it is like a silent accomplice, for your ears only, keeping you from drifting deep down into the feeling of being totally alone on this earth. One tune will remind me of a party when I was a teenager, awkwardly trying to schmooze a girl I fancied, but not quite knowing how to broach the, or any subject with the opposite sex. Yes, that is going back some, but I'm an 80s child, so anything from Bronski Beat to Simple Minds can have the desired effect in this regard. The song 'Last Christmas', will forever remind me of Elsa Fleming and Sue Church, both for the same, but conflicting reasons, such good times, that feel like yesterday, but was actually 35 years ago.

I left Playa Larga after making the best of my last night in an actual house, with air on. I think I got into bed at 8 and out at 7 the next day. I knew I was going in a direction, towards Playa Giron, but didn't know exactly where I was going to pitch my tent and had decided to just pick a spot that felt right at the time. I spent the morning in the company of my new friend Miguel and after a one dollar pizza, got on my bike at 12 midday, in 35 degree heat and headed out of town, down the coast in a South Easterly direction, hugging the left side of the Bay Of Pigs. The road was tar and not very busy, with the odd beach option for a swim. After an hour and nearly 25 kilometres I saw an opportunity for a dip in the sea and an opportunity for something cold. Both achieved I started chatting to a German guy, he was from Cologne and worked as an auto engineer for Ford in their head office there. He was on holiday with his girlfriend, who was very busy occupying herself with the colorful reef fish. I find it very interesting what brings certain people to certain places, the motivation and the outcome of their discoveries. I may have mentioned it before but there are a lot of German people here. He was actually surprised when the first thing I said to him was, "Are you German?" He looked at me, astounded, and replied, "Do I look that German to you that you should ask that?" "Just good odds", I replied...lots of Germans here... After a refreshing beer I ventured forth another 10 or so kilometres to Playa Giron, and when I say there is actually nothing there in the town, I thought I was in a drop in the Eastern Cape, one high street, a war museum, not unusual around the Bay Of Pigs and some curio shops. Well, I took a photo of one old aircraft and bought a necklace, tick, town done. I stocked up on some Pringles look alike chips and some water and headed out to find a spot for the night. Boom, I had gone about 2km, when all of a sudden there was a cool beach, palm trees, some tourists and a bit of a vibe. Now without sounding like I'm a hippy snob on some kind of solo global adventure, I am certainly not seeking out very busy tourist traps and drunk foreigners. The beach had a bit of a charm, with goats and locals and foreigners all going about their ways. Where the shore break was was lots of broken coral and was quite rocky, so the swimming was a bit of a chore, but the water was warm and the beers were cold. I decided to stay here and the kiosk man had promised a plate of fish and rice and assured me that it was fine to set up camp anywhere I liked. I met a young man called Daniel from Switzerland who had backpacked around the globe for 2 years when he was 28. I find that so inspiring, for people of such young age to do that. He had also bike packed from Switzerland to Sicily, so had come over when he saw Penny all laden up. He told me Medellin used to be his favorite city until he went to Cape Town. I need d to get my tent up as there was a bit of wind and the sun was down, so I didn't get to spend as long as I liked hearing his stories, but I have a feeling we will connect again somewhere for an adventure.

With my tent up, 2 Belguim ladies from Ghent came to the kiosk to get food. Given that the electricity had failed the owners had shut and gone home early. We got to chatting and the usual tales about how one comes to be where one is. One lady, called Bo had written a book of poetry at the age of 18, so I took the opportunity to get my new poems 'critted' by a pro, so to speak. I ended up going for a few beers at a beach bar a few hundred metres further down the beach with her and Zoe and 2 other Belguim people they had met on the bus coming to Giron. It's funny how people meet. Such sliding doors and paths can cross or miss. It always confirms to me about how things are meant to be will be. There were a couple of local Cubanos in the bar with a portable beatbox playing typical Cuban music and showing us a few of their Salsa moves. I'm sure it's just a sales pitch to impress the girls and to show them a few steps on the dance floor. The ladies all had a god with the two guys, I think more out of not wanting to hurt their feelings than of actual dance desire.

In the meantime, the rain was falling outside. This didn't bode well for a night in my Cloud Up 2, but was relatively short lived and soon thereafter departed for bed. The plan was to leave early and head towards Cienfuegos and meet up with Bo and Zoe and try find shared accommodation, as its per unit, not per person. After a restless night, (this is normal) I had an early morning swim in the sea and was on Penny by 7. It normally takes me about 30 minutes to pack up everything and get going. I stopped after 25kms to try and find food at a small hermitage, when a local man told me to follow him to his Casa. There I got presented with an amazing spread of coffee, fruit, eggs and a sponge cake type desert. I thought there was cream, so put a spoon on the dessert, only to find after a mouthful that it was in fact aioli. It actually didn't taste too bad, you should try it. I rode through some great tree covered roads parallel to the beach which I christened Crab Highway, for obvious reason. Big ones, small ones, squashed ones. It reminded me of the roads near Saldwana Bay, a bit shady, but lined with thick sub tropical bush. After 65kms I got to Castillo CEN. A fortified castle at the water inlet which leads up to Cienfuegos. Here I had to get a small boat across to the other side and ride another 25kms to town as the main ferry to downtown Cienfuegos was only leaving at 3 and arriving at 4, and my arrangement with the Belguim girls was for 3, so decided to ride round instead. I stopped and wrote a bit and had some fish at a roadside, beachfront restaurant. The food was average and the fish was dry and burnt to a cinder. It was pretty there next to the sea however so it wasn't all a complete loss. I rode the remaining 16kms into town in around 45 minutes and was at the agreed meeting point with 15 minutes to spare. Alas, not amigos, so at around 5pm, decided to go an acquire my own lodgings. I found one just off the square I had been waiting in next to the Jose Marti memorial. Cienfuegos has a French influence, I learnt from the girls and it actually has, the newest, most up to date city Centre I have seen here. The streets are new and shiny, as are the shops, which actually have things in them. It looks much more like a modern day high street than I have so far witnessed in Cuba. I walked down a market street, only for pedestrians, looking at all the artwork and trinkets, hats, caps and bags. A pier beckoned, a place people had gathered to watch the sunset, which was amazing...and free! Who should I meet there, but Zoe and Bo, nursing a hangover from too many Mojitos the night before. Now there's always a feeling of not wanting to gate crash other people's experiences, so I am aware of this at all times. We had a drink together, me beer and them soft drinks, and some philosophical chats about life, living and being authentic and all the parameters around living in the moment, and how that has ripple effects into other aspects of ones life. It was nice to get some points of view from other like minded people, as life is all about perspectives and no one is the same as another. The girls are both mid twenties, but again, both are much wiser than their years and both interesting individuals who are also, like me, not run-of-the-mill types and not part of the flock. I think for them to be in Cuba together is testimony to their way of thinking. We had a nice dinner, managing to find a salad of tomatoes and onions, (a Spanish fave), and went our separate ways. Our plan is to meet in a couple of days in Trinidad again and perhaps try and find some accommodation together as a base to explore the town. It's nice to have some company actually and I enjoyed their conversations and mindset. I am going to spend a couple of solo days riding down the coast and plan to wild camp somewhere between here and Trinidad. The coastline looks beautiful and I think it will be an amazing ride and a good wild camp on a remote beach somewhere. Sending love from Cuba. I hope Ernest Hemmingway is inspiring my writing style, but not to just end up like the Old Man without a big fish. I also hope my book will be a bit longer than that effort of his, but if it's as well read and acclaimed, I'll settle for 92 pages. Everybody dies, not everybody lives, but try the aioli with your next helping of scones.