World Bound and Back Again

Al Oriente... above and below ground.

Saturday morning we set off walking south without many expectations or a plan and came back after:

Hiking along the black beach past the dilapidated stadium...

Our biblical guide, chauffeuring us over the flooded crossing.

we crossed the flooded passageway with a boat of jolly fisherman, following the same jolly fisherman through a swamp to the next boat which took us to the other side of the flooded river.....where we balanced along a tipsy a rickety boardwalk....

Crossing with care

arrive in busy little mud streets full of busy people doing busy chores, to climb up a hill, with our new friend, Alejandro (who learned about the world from Vietnamese and Russian soldiers, that taught him how to fight, so he could go to volunteer Angola in 1987, only to return to his family’s farm to receive a government pension and be friendly and happy in the country)

Alejandro, giving me a anon

continuing along the main road/track to the residence of the Fuente coconut farm, where we met Mr. Fuente, who led through his muddy and flooded coco nut fields,

down two cliffs, to La Cueva del Agua, which we climbed inside of....

Cueva de agua.. less ominous then we thought.

and swam in the "ice cold" (as Mr. Fuente called it) mountain water,

Inside the deepest part of the cave

then climbed out of to return along the mud path, back up the two cliffs, through the coconut fields, past the goats to the farm so we could eat fresh coconuts and passion fruit with the Fuentes,

The fruits of our success

then, realizing the time (just an hour before our only bus to Havana) to run back along the main track, down the hill, back through the busy street, over the rickety bridge, back across the two flooded crossings with the different jolly fisherman....

The best mode of transportation.. and it floats!

over the black beach, back to town… (well really to market to buy more chocolate!) We made our bus!

Al Oriente (continued)

Coasting

We decided that we had been traveling by foot far too often and it was time for some wheels. So we rented bikes and set out for a 50km spin to Yurmuri (a nearby village with a beautiful river and beach).

Lydia, flying past a pig.

It was not a “flat spin” like lonely planet had falsely advertised but the challenge made it all the better. We kept pedaling with the help of jolly saludos and encouragement from locals (the best “Mira que rapidez esta flacita!! Dale linda! Look how fast that skinny girl. Do it beautiful!). We ate coconuts and almonds with a new friend and learned about local nature and the endless faults of the government.

Chilling on the beach with some foliage

With a little help, we cracked A LOT of coconuts and had a feast!

We ate coconuts and almonds with a new friend and learned about local nature and the endless faults of the government.

Discovering almonds!!

Swimming.. in not so crystal ocean water.

They way back was more uphill than the way there (always) but we were rewarded with a swim in the dirty local beach and after, to my utter delight DURO-FRIO. Not just any duro-frio, but coconut-mani duro-frio. Thanks to two very kind sisters who lead us all the way to a livingroom in an apartment complex to ay one peso for our little treats.

Al Oriente

The Oriente kept threatening to evade us. First Brown decided that Cholera was too prominent, then Sandy decided to land, flood, and wreck havoc, then most modes of transportation decided to function (or not) as usual.... we almost lost hope.

But with a lot of motivation, some good Cuban luck and a willing taxi driver we ended up in the Viazul bus station, boxing while waiting for our night bus to Bayamo.

A Bit of Boxing in Viazul

Traveling by Viazul bus in Cuba is like going into to temporary hibernation. The buses are kept at a frigid 18 degrees Celsius, the blinds are always closed and people refrain from talking or even moving while they trek across the beautiful balmy Cuban landscape. In total our Oriente hibernation time was no less than 37 hours! I am a new bear now!

Off to the East we go

First stop was Bayamo. One of Cuba's oldest cities, we had hear lots about the little place, and we were quick to find out that it was just that a little place. Strange people, food, things and you could see it all in about 2 hours.

A Various listing of "ofertas gastronómicas: en Bayamo

This sign told us that Bayamo boasts many things, we just must have missed them!

At least we found the bar.

So we carried on to Santiago. Hopping (well sprinting to catch the already departed guagua) on a bus to the big city we were happy to keep moving.
Sandy’s destruction was mostly visible in the limbless trees scattered all throughout the valley.

Though there was some obvious destruction in Santiago, missing roofs, uprooted trees, closed stores, and electricity was still out across the majority of the city.

Nonetheless, the city was beautiful, raw, and bold. It reminded me of San Francisco without development. The streets were steep, and crowded yet movement was slow, even pleasurable (unlike the sprint of Havana). Oriente clearly had a different rhythm.

We stayed the night with a good friend, then caught the Viazul bus (hibernation time) to Baracoa. Stopping in Guantanamo along the way, we say nothing of the military base.

A quick stop to refuel.

Two oxen pulling a barrel of gas. Ironic? Not here.

The land of chocolate and coco! What a great place to be! Nestled in the eastern most end of Cuba, the town is literally stuck between the ocean and the mountains. About four blocks wide, maybe 10 blocks long it is easy to get to know. And if you are directionally challenged the people are more than willing to help you out, in literally what-ever way they can.