Touring Cuba from two wheels

Touring Cuba from two wheels
The roads are well-paved and uncrowded, and the people are welcoming
BY DAVID YATES, FOR POSTMEDIA NEWS SEPTEMBER 3, 2013

HAVANA

The day started off well, as I was able to reassemble my bicycle — taken
apart and put in a flat box for the flight — in under an hour in front
of the Hotel Barcelo on the western side of the city.

But I had little idea of the anxious moments that awaited me as I and 24
other cyclists mounted up on the way to conquering the streets of Havana
with a ride of just under two hours to Cacahual, a big hill on the
southern edge of the city about 30 kilometres away. The hill is best
known for its memorial to several Cuban patriots of the 19th century.

It was a chance to see the dusty streets of Havana, and its iconic old
cars belching clouds of exhaust, on the first day of a seven-day
vacation organized by Vélo-Québéc Voyages, the travel wing of the big
cycling organization that offers trips in many parts of the world.

The plan was to head off by bus the next day to Pinar del Rio, the
western province where the best cigar tobacco is grown, for several days
of cycling on quiet country roads. We also would have a day off relaxing
at Cayo Levisa, which has one of the island's many fabulous beaches.

But the beginning of our first day was not a glorious one for me. A
figurative stick in the spokes forced me to stop a few blocks from the
hotel. My handlebars were turned too low and they needed a fix. Daniel
Desroches, also riding at the back of the pack, noticed me stopping and
he doubled back to help. I readjusted the handlebars easily, but when we
looked up, our fellow cyclists had vanished. We rode a few more blocks
looking for our group, but there was no sign of anybody.

For some people — including myself — there is nothing quite so
unsettling as being lost in a foreign city with no map and only a
smattering of the language. But the highly experienced Desroches — who
has been on many cycling and camping trips in Europe with his wife,
Diane — showed no sign of panic. "Let's have an ice cream cone," he said
as we spotted a street vendor. And he calmly reached into his saddlebag
for a map of the city.

A few minutes later, we pulled into a gas station, where Desroches
scored a big success. Not only did he get directions to Cacahual, a
driver suggested we follow him for 15 kilometres to a point near the
José Marti Airport, where we would make a right turn and follow signs to
the hill.

Havana seems to be full of resiHavana seems to be full of residents
ready to make a kind gesture to visitors, and there was no shortage of
people in our group with tons of cycling experience and resourcefulness.
Put them together and problems vanish quickly.

On the streets of Havana on that Sunday, residents were out in droves
enjoying their day off. They walked casually on sidewalks and gravitated
to the parks for picnics and baseball. Desroches and I pedalled
furiously to keep up with our guide in the car. Fortunately, he had to
stop at intersections and we were able to catch up. He waved goodbye
near the airport and we headed up to Cacahual.

When we arrived, there was no sign of our group. Despite getting lost,
we had managed to hit our destination before the others.

After ham and cheese sandwiches, a lunchtime staple in Cuba, we climbed
back on our bikes and headed for the hotel.

The next day, we piled into a tour bus where half the seats had been
removed to accommodate our bikes, which ranged from clunkers (including
mine, which cost less than $400) to custom-made Gurus and Marinonis
costing several thousand dollars each. At our first stop in Candelaria,
we toured a cigar factory where we were offered freshly made stogies
while outside touts tried to tempt us with the black market variety. And
then we were back on our bikes for the ride to the Hotel Los Jazmines at
the top of a big hill just outside Vinales.

We made 67 kilometres in the Caribbean heat before the bus caught up and
we climbed aboard for the rest of the trip to Vinales.

Installed at the Hotel Los Jazmines overlooking a lush valley, we spent
the next three days touring the countryside, cycling past small farms
and tobacco plantations. Every morning we were awakened by crowing roosters.

During our stay, we did a ride of 60 kilometres to the beach at Cayo
Jutias, a trip by bus to Cayo Levisa for a day of sun and beach
volleyball and pedalled to the fishing village of Puerto Esperanza.

Cycling in this rural area is almost a dream. The roads are well paved,
traffic moves at a very moderate pace and the few drivers give riders
plenty of room when passing.

The rides took us through sleepy villages and past farms untouched by
modern machinery.

On one occasion, we stopped to walk through a small barn perfumed by
sheaves of tobacco leaves hanging from the rafters.

We hit rain on the way to Cayo Jutias and sheltered under the eaves of
some houses in a village.

On the way back from Cayo Levisa, we stopped at a small shack for a
glass of freshly pressed sugar cane juice. We stood in line behind kids
on the way home from school.

While many tourists like to spend their time baking on the beaches of
Cuba, cycling gets travellers beyond the wall of waiters and hotel staff
for a rich experience.

On the last night at the Los Jazmines, we dismantled our bikes and
packed them for the trip back to Havana the next day.

We hopped on the bus and drove to the autopista, the divided highway
that leads to the capital. The trip was uneventful except for one thing:
we saw sulkies, yes, horse racing, on the autopista under the watchful
surveillance police.

Back in Havana, we did some sightseeing in the old city with several
people popping into the Floridita for a lobster lunch. That's the
restaurant where Ernest Hemingway quaffed daiquiris. And then it was
farewell to Cuba and many new friends the following morning.

Source: "Touring Cuba from two wheels" -
http://www.theprovince.com/travel/Touring+Cuba+from+wheels/8864543/story.html