A day off. Or rather, a short bike trip to the seaside and back for lunch, and an afternoon lounging round Trinidad, while I waited for the visa office to reopen tomorrow morning.
I didn’t care much for Playa Ancón, a tourist beach (pic) by a hotel. Guards wanted $1 for me to use the cycle-parking infrastructure, viz. a tree. There was a bar full of rather glum-looking tourists with coach-passenger physiques being inattended to by bored staff. I tried to find a refresco in the hotel but got shooed away, I think for not being smartly-dressed enough.
I tried some other beaches between there and the village of La Boca, with similar results. I didn’t fancy a swim at any of them.
At La Boca itself, however, things were rather livelier: no tourists, no grumpy bar staff, but lots of locals out for the day (pic). This was a place I could do business with. And I wouldn’t be turned away for wearing T-shirt, shorts and a smile. So was everyone else.
Time to invest in the local economy. I sat in the sunshine and sipped three glasses of beer from the kiosk dispensing Tínima (pic).
Then I had a pizza at an upmarket restaurant, ‘upmarket’ being 25 pesos.
Battered but serviceable 1950s sedans are never far away in Cuba (pic). Unless perhaps you’re waiting for a lift in one.
Horse-drawn cabs are never in short supply either (pic), always a picturesque delight for this particular cycle tourist.
Some may think it’s cruel for a dumb animal to be hauling enormous loads all day in the hot sun, but that’s cycle touring for you.
All in all it was a lovely Cuban village Sunday by the sea (pic). But, now relaxed and well-fed, I still didn’t fancy a swim.
I plodded uphill back to Trinidad in the headwind and whiled away the day with more gluttony, ending with an evening jaunt to the Casa de la Trova for some more excellent live music.
All good fun, but I’m keen to get my visa sorted asap tomorrow and get back on my End to End. This is not some carefree jaunt, you know. This is serious business.
Miles today: 20
Miles since Baracoa: 635