Varadero

Our first experience with the monopolistic Viazul bus was a good one. Heading guide book and blog advice to book well in advance we had organised and paid for all of our journeys in Cuba at the start of January.

The trading of receipt for ticket seemed a little pointless but the Havana desk was efficient and we were on the bus in no time. A 3 hour journey with a short 15 minute break went swimmingly and we arrived in Varadero ahead of schedule.

A 5 minute walk and a bit of guesswork based on photos that we had seen online, took us to Maria’s house:

Abi’s Rating: 10/10 – Perfect location, clean, sound proof toilet for tummy issues, cute old lady.

Mike’s Rating: 9/10 – Same as above but not my turn for tummy issues just yet (spoiler). No wifi in house.

Our host was 83 year old Maria, a sweet but fierce Cuban who was slightly tricky to understand but we did pretty well. She had a lady in to help with breakfast but you could tell that this was not an initiative championed by herself and she muscled her way into certain tasks!

On our doorstep was the the famed Varadero beach, a colossal 20km stretch of white sand, crystal blue sea and palm trees. Maria’s gaff was situated in the main town, and while it was clearly a touristic area, this part of the beach was vastly different to the parts further down that are littered with 5* resorts.

In total we spent four nights here and in truth we were probably a couple of days short.

We did somehow manage to spend two hours waiting for food at an Italian restaurant which accounted for a good percentage of our stay in Varadero. The food really wasn’t great and it laid Abi low for a day or so.

This meant that I took a solo stroll towards those monstrous resorts teeming with punters who have probably been to cuba a thousand times…but never experienced it.

The walk also gave me the opportunity to purchase some internet cards (the way to get online in Cuba) and some biscuits. Supermarkets aren’t really a thing so you have to plump for a hatch and hope they are selling some biscuits and water.

I successfully managed to get online whilst sat on a street corner and even helped a French lady do the same in some very anglicised and broken french!

Abi’s recovery coincided with two wonderfully relaxing days on the beach as we enjoyed the warm and tranquil waters. The sunset was rather spectacular too.

On the final afternoon we purchased tickets on the ‘hop on hop off’ tour bus and went to see some of those 5 star resorts as well as the marina.

We drove in and out of some of them and they did look rather epic (maybe a night or two wouldn’t be thaaat bad) although judging by our company on the bus (people staying at the hotels braving the real world) it might be a bit of an ordeal.

Loud and obnoxious Americans. Check. Even louder French gobbing off the top of the bus. Check.

It was a truly bizarre trip as the bus went through Sim like ‘parks’ that were totally devoid of a local population.

When we arrived at the Marina it was equally deserted. We wandered around in search of something…anything…and eventually found a little hut selling melted ice cream.

All very strange and rather underwhelming so we hopped back on the bus (passing an enormous golf course…cuba’s only 18 holer) to civilisation.

Dinner was taken at a delightful little restaurant that did not have the pork I wanted (this is a real annoyance in Cuba…sit and look through the extensive menu, decide what you want and then be told on ordering that it is not available). I went for fish and it was very tasty.

Our timing was exemplary as the heavens opened just as our cutlery hit the plate and we scurried across the road to shelter from the biblical downpour. As you can see the roads did not hold up too well to the onslaught.

With the rain dampening our spirits a trip to the Beatles Bar (probably the biggest non cubans on the island after Che) was cancelled and we battened down the hatches ahead of our morning bus to Viñales.

Viñales

The receipt to ticket queue was a little busier this time around but everything was fairly well organised and we set off on our 7 hour rodeo to Viñales at 8am.

The lunchtime stop involved some good (if expensive) toasted sarnies while we paid varying degrees of coinage to use a number of toilets on the way (I personally think it is scandalous to charge for the toilet but it happens around the world).

Owing to overbooked buses and not wanting to travel on a Sunday, we had been forced to extend our stay in Viñales to 5 nights from the original 3.

Overall this was not the end of the world as we really loved the laid back town and were lucky enough to have excellent hospitality in both of our casas. The first 3 nights were spent with the rather attractive Mayrelis in her pink house on the outskirts if the town:

Abi’s Rating: 8/10 – Slopey bed

Mike’s Rating: 9/10 – Really good breakfast in a lovely setting, shower was really warm. Was a little out of town but this meant it was quiet.

We organised to go horse riding with a chap who she called to the house. We probably could have negotiated down a bit more but 25 CUC apiece seemed like a fair enough price for us.

We were duly collected at 9am the next morning and taken to a random dirt road. Here we were instructed to follow a chap on a horse for a few minutes before arriving at our start point.

I was aboard Palomo and Abi Coco Loco. The horses were perhaps a little skinny but our guide José seemed to look after them well and we enjoyed a lovely ride through the spectacular valle del silencio.

It was Abi’s first time on a horse and I was hardly a veteran having managed a single effort in Australia in 2005 (poor Tinkerbell has probably still not recovered).

The views were incredible and despite the underwhelming nature of the ‘lake’ it was a brilliant trip.

We also had the customary tour stop at a farm where the locals try and sell you the kitchen sink. The first part involved tobacco fields and cigars which was actually pretty interesting and I (having only ever smoked ham or salmon) had a few puffs on a cuban cigar.

I don’t think I disgraced myself and the dollop of honey on the end certainly sweetened the deal. We purchased some as souvenirs and were herded off to selling point 2.

This was a far less enjoyable affair as the rough looking Rafael delivered a distasteful sales pitch. Coffee, honey and gin on offer.

Unlike the tobacco the only sign of on site production was a solitary coffee plant. His persistent nasal inhalations were also highly off putting and, much to his disgust, we declined all products on offer. We even only had a sip of his rum which was apparently very offensive but we had insisted before pouring that we only try a tiny amount.

Back onto our trusty steads and few pictures of the gaucho life before finishing our tour. Turns out that the return journey wasn’t included so we walked back to town to have a well earned bite to eat.

Food in Viñales was generally pretty good. I had some delightful pork, the rice and beans are a safe staple and we also found some excellent pizzas at ‘El Barrio’.

Our dinner there brought a fantastic moment of comedy that I would be silly not to share.

Abi and I were waiting for our pizzas and chatting away on the outside terrace when I noticed an elderly (probably early 70’s) couple looking up at the restaurant. I imagined that they too had read the recommendation in lonely planet and waited for them to climb the 8 or so steps.

As expected the man made his way up and began chatting to the waitress. After 10 seconds or so he turned around to see that his wife had not followed him. “Oh I seem to have lost my wife” he chirpily remarked in the warming tones of the home counties.

He disappeared down the steps, calling back “oh she has been kidnapped”. He then disappeared out of my view but Abi kept me updated by saying that his face had become somewhat worried.

I had a good idea what had happened and was just about to say to him that I think his wife had just carried on walking straight down the road but I was too late. With the frightening speed of a British Grandparent on a mission (I have two of these and Abi has one too…I felt like an Arsenal defender pursuing Mo Salah) the chap was over the road and making his way down the row of market stalls opposite.

It was time to intervene and I jumped up. “Was the wife wearing a shawl” enquired Abi who was looking further down the road and I nodded.

I hopped down the stairs and enquired as to whether the woman had lost her husband…”yes I have” was the reply.

“I think that he is keen to eat in this restaurant but he has gone over the road, if you wait here I will go and get him for you”.

So over the road I go and arrive at the end of the street to see our friend marching back towards me with that all too familiar disgruntled look. I waved and fortunately he spotted me. “Your wife is at the restaurant” I proclaimed.

The response was simply “she keeps doing this” and I struggled to keep a straight face as we headed back for the big reunion.

On sitting down at the adjacent table to ours the man could not help but say “this is the third time this has happened” to much mirth from myself and Abi. My pizza had arrived and it was very enjoyable indeed! We haven’t seen too many Brits on our travels and this was a welcome piece of home!

One evening we walked up to the famed Hostel Jazmines to look out over the valley from this excellent vantage point. The only problem was that it also looked over the hotel pool and it felt somewhat awkward.

Instead we dined at at the spectacular balcón del valle a little further down the road and were treated to sensational views. The food was average and the lamb would come back to haunt me the following day, but at the time it did not matter as our picture perfect vista made for a delightful dinner.

It was time to move to the more centrally located casa run by the friendly Yosobel.

Abi’s Rating: 8/10 – Nowhere to chill

Mike’s Rating: 8/10 – Lovely room and the bed was comfortable but it was a little noisy at night. Excellent little shortbread type biscuits at breakfast.

From here we set off on what was supposed to be a 10km round trip walk through the Viñales valley to a mirador.

The first half went relatively to plan although I was suffering slightly with a sore back. We took pictures from afar of the ‘Mural de prehistoria’ Painted in 1961 it took 4 people 18 years to make and while it was impressive, we did not feel like paying the fee to see it up close.

Instead we headed up the valley on a winding path that carried us to the mirador.

Mirador of course meant restaurant and a nice young chap tried to sell us a walking tour to the highest point in Viñales but we politely declined. The view was decent enough but paled in comparison to our restaurant and horse riding efforts.

Lots of dogs who knew where the kitchen was though!

We briefly sheltered from a smattering of rain and I made a fatal error when passing up the opportunity to use the dingy outside toilet. I could hold til we got back.

I couldn’t. So a few meters back down the path I had to scoot off into a bush a go au natural. Not my finest moment but perhaps worse was to come as we made our way back to a small hut that we had stopped off at on the way to have a drink.

This hut was attached to a small complex that housed a restaurant and a swimming pool and, as the rain started to fall again, the security guard must have sensed my anguish and pointed me in the direction of the loo.

The male one was locked and I seriously considered popping into the female alternative before my strong beliefs as a stickler for the rules held firm.

This moral position lasted as long as a circuit around the building in the now torrential rain before the desperation of the situation forced my hand.

Without going into too much detail…the door didn’t shut (let alone lock) and there was a distinct lack of water in both toilet bowl and tap. Had there been a toilet attendant or tip basket at this one it is safe to say I would have had no qualms handing over some serious coinage.

Abi was waiting for me in the hut and as the rain surged down it was one of those situations that you knew would be funny down the line but it did not quite feel it at the time.

Luckily the security guard had called us a taxi and we were back at the casa within 15 minutes. Not the day that we had planned but a memorable one nonetheless!

I was feeling a lot better the next day and we hired bikes to take us in the only direction we had not yet ventured.

Despite an early puncture, and a pair of bikes that were definitely made long before us, we had a lovely day of cycling.

We stopped off at a couple of points to soak in the sun and give our backsides a much needed rest from the crippling pain of the saddle.

The roads weren’t terrible for cycling although the odd collection of pot holes caused a fair amount of vibrations – not to mention the fear of the bicycle disintegrating.

However the bikes held firm, the rain of yesterday did not return and even the occasional incline did not dampen our spirits.

Lunch on the way back (extended as we had to download some Netflix programs – got there eventually) was followed by a small trip to the cultural centre for a bit of salsa dancing before an early night ahead of our first long Cuban bus.

Next Stop: Cienfuegos