May 8, 2015

What happened…

Andrew writes: In some ways, it wasn’t hard for me to get an early start this morning. For instance, I had been listening to a random clunk and grind from the air conditioner since it woke me up at o’dark-thirty. I was also really looking forward to the ride today. On paper it was shaping up to be the best ride of the trip, as it included a summit of 500m to the top of “La Farola”. So after breakfast at the campismo, a wonderful plate of ham & onion omelette with bread and coffee, we set off, just after 8am.

We had done a lot of reading before setting out this morning, yet words don’t accurately describe the feeling one gets, climbing 20km at a steady 2% grade for the first 20km. As we passed through Cajobabo, I noticed a Campismo there; doh! We could’ve ridden a bit further yesterday and started our day here instead. Hopefully anyone who reads this and is doing a similar ride will take note.

Riding through Cajobabo, the Sierra del Puril rises up before us, like the Big Green Monster at Fenway Park (Boston), completely dominating the view. Immediately after passing through the town, we took a right hand turn and started a steep climb for 5km. Then the road dips down, and back up again, and finally we saw a sign marking the start of La Farola, as we enter the town of Baitiquiri. As is custom, people sit out on their steps in Cuban towns, and many of them shouted words of encouragement as we grunted up the first 12% grade. 25km later, we reach the top, Alto de Coltilla.

Along the way, the road alternates between super-steep, and gentle incline, but it never flattens or dips down. Every 100m in elevation or so, there would be a hairpin turn with a pullout, around which would sit several people selling foodstuffs like bananas, chocolate, mangoes, and coffee. We stopped in at one after a series of steep pitches, and treated ourselves to a half-dozen bananas. While we were there, a bus going in the other direction pulled up, a few people got out, and they bought up all of the food for sale; I guess it was going to be a long bus ride.

While I wouldn’t say there was ever a point that I was ready to throw in the towel on the climb up, there definitely were a few times that I felt like laying down for a nap…a big, wet, squishy, nap. It seemed like all of the water I was drinking was exiting my body through every pore. This, despite being only 30 degrees in the shade where we were mostly riding. It was definitely a lot easier after a couple of bananas. Then when we reached Alto de Coltilla, we sat in the shade for awhile, eating some egg sandwiches, and drinking orange pop, before setting out on the “downhill”.

This next part was a bit of a soul-crusher. The downhill takes you from 550m, down to 350m, in about 3km. Then we spent the next 5km or so, climbing back up to 500m, before dipping down, then up, etc. I think that I expected a nice 25km descent, similar to the hellish 25km ascent we had just made. So now I know, as with most of the riding thus far in Cuba, it’s a heckuva lot easier coming at it from the other direction.

Reaching the bottom, the landscape had changed from desert to lush jungle. Many of the farms on the outskirts of Baracoa had banana trees AND cocoa trees. School was just getting out, and hundreds of children were walking down the street, or waiting for the bus. One jackass of a kid, in an attempt to impress some girls, started to try to push, first me, and then Amanda. Having none of it, Amanda stopped her bike, and told him off. It wasn’t that we didn’t appreciate the help, we could just tell that his gesture was lacking.

It was a long, gentle descent into Baracoa proper, maybe 15km, which matched the ascent we had made at the start of the day after Playa Imias. With mountain climbs, it all equals out in the end I guess. Still, the day had gotten on a bit, and the sun was really beating down on us at this point, so we were pretty tired. Cycling into the city, Amanda was set upon by a really aggessive jintero, who first kept trying to chat her up, and then eventually he cut her off and forced her to the side of the road. Again, a bit of a verbal lashing, and the jintero left us alone. We rode down the street another 100m or so and found a Casa.

The woman at the Casa said that hers was occupied, but we could follow her friend Maydi, down the street on her bike, to another one that she knew of. We were led down a side-street with about 7 Casas on it, most of them 3-4 stories tall, promising terraces with ocean views. Sure enough, our Casa host, Illiana, delivered and we setup shop on the second floor of her house. While we were freshening up, Illiana brought us some fresh-squeezed mango juice to savour.

Baracoan cuisine was something Amanda and I had both been looking forward to, and I was thinking of splurging a bit and heading out to a restaurant for dinner. I’m glad that I let Illiana talk me into trying her home-cooking! For the first time since arriving in Cuba, I was able to eat dinner without wishing it had salt, pepper, or hot sauce on it. Everything had so much flavour! The chicken was coated in some sort of sauce, there were garlic and onion filled potato dumplings, there were some great, tasty black beans with sauce, white rice, fresh bread, and a platter of cucumber and tomatoes. It was actually quite a bit of food. La Farola had taken its’ toll on our bodies, and we took it out on the dinner table. By the end of it, there was nothing left.

We decided over dinner that Baracoa might be worth taking a closer look at tomorrow, so we’ll take another day off the bikes. My legs were immediately happy with that decision. Amanda is a bit worried about my health though. Maybe it’s the heat, or maybe I’m just constantly dehydrated, but I find myself needing(?), or relishing a day off the bike, pretty much every second day. Maybe it’s the $0.25 cent lunches and dinners, just not being nourishing enough. I just don’t seem to have the same get-up-and-go that I feel like I should. Oh well, I’ll worry about it another time.

Today’s Photographs

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