My great little walkabout to Baracoa, Eastern Cuba.

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Great little adventure I just took, I highly recommend going someday to Baracoa if you ever have the chance. Let me tell you a little bit about the journey. It's one of those places in the world, so evocative, after you go there it will become part of you forever. As always, I never quite know I'm going to have time to travel until I do. About a month ago, I saw a window open up in my schedule. Things fell into place in a great way and I made it happen. I grew up in South Florida, went to school with many Cuban American kids, but had never been to Cuba. I guess I avoided it in the past because I thought it would be difficult to travel there solo, which is what I love doing. I knew it was possible to go as a group, or cultural exchange, but that isn't me and also has to be planned. Yet somehow in the back of my mind, I was intrigued by this much misunderstood island.

A bit of historic context. For years, the American blockade of Cuba has been in place, affecting all forms of commerce but also travel. In a nutshell, it has been maintained because political parties in the US have been hesitant to alienate the large and very powerful Cuban American voting block in South Florida. Many of these Cuban Americans had their family's property taken when Castro took power, saw relatives killed and tortured during repressive moments of Castro's regime and have been furious at that government all those years. They have achieved wealth and influence and have affected US policy for many years toward Cuba. Cubans tend to vote Republican in national elections in the US, but for years a fairly large percentage (let's say 30 percent) voted Democratic.

This huge voting block (more than a million people) have the ability to swing the election in Florida during national elections. For years, Republicans have been in favor of a strict blockade of Cuba, Democrats less so but have been quite aware that Florida has been a swing state and very important to national elections. So, the blockade has lasted, the goal being to someday bring the Cuban government to its knees and be overthrown. It hasn't worked out that way, the Cuban government has actually be able (from a PR perspective) to cast the US blockade as its enemy and has been able to limp along with help from other countries, trade relationships and tourism. Also, despite sometimes repressive actions with its own citizens, the people don't by any means universally hate their own government, the government has provided a high level of education, healthcare and (reasonably) basic needs to citizens. Of course many Cubans want to leave for opportunity (more so now as inflation, economic difficulties exist), but to say that Cubans detest their government and country is just not true.

Obama during his time in office loosened visiting and some commerce regulations, to the extent that he could with still being conscious of Florida's swing state potential, I think Florida voted for him both times. At this time, I was traveling other places in the world. When Trump came to office, he predictably clamped down again on sanctions and visitation possibilities, I had put the idea out of my head for awhile and not really focused on gathering info. A few months ago, I came across an article about how Biden had opened up four airports in Cuba to fly into, perhaps increasingly realizing that Florida is trending Republican and the Democrats may not have to tread as lightly with the Cuba policy. My car camping trip last fall to Puerto Rico had been unexpectedly excellent and perhaps made me think about exploring the Caribbean basin more. The combo of mountains, sea, tasty food and indigenous heritage had caught my eye.

So, I realized that I only had about 10 days to travel, the proximity of Cuba vaulted it up on the list as a possibility. I was aware that many tourists traveled to Havana, Vinales and the beaches of West Cuba, it just wasn't that appealing to me. I wanted something different, something a little more off the grid, an adventure. One evening on the computer, I found a little town in the very far east of Cuba called Baracoa. It looked very intriguing, hard to get to so not many tourists around. It was actually isolated with no roads until the 1960s so developed a culture, cuisine and vibe quite unique to the rest of Cuba. It rains more there, quite a bit more. This means there are jungles, rivers, waterfalls, lushness. Now this area had my attention and excitement, how to make it happen.

I dug deeper in a few excited research sessions. I learned that there really wasn't a problem traveling independently to Cuba, just needed to self-designate as a category "support for the Cuban people" when booking my ticket. Biden had loosened up this category, essentially as a traveler you are committing to stay in local homes, eat local food and have cultural experiences, rather than stay at government owned resorts and restaurants. The former is the way I travel anyway. In theory, you are supposed to keep receipts to show to the US government if they ask, in practice you don't really need to. Also, you can't being back cigars or rum (as owned by the government), local handicrafts, paintings, etc are fine.

Most of the flights to Cuba go through Miami, as a traveler you just need to choose a connection that has at least a two hour connection time. When you arrive in Miami, you walk out into the arrivals hall, look for a kiosk call the "Cuba Ready" booth, show them your airline ticket and passport, pay $50 and you are out of there in no more than 5 minutes . This card is what you use to board your flight, also show it to the Cuban immigration authorities on arrival and departure. So, I did, bought the ticket, flew to Miami, grabbed my travel card, hopped on my connecting flight to Holguin, the fourth biggest city in Cuba, in the eastern part of the huge island. It's wild, this place I had known about for all my life, suddenly going. Lots of Cuban expats on my plane going back to see family, also quite a few European and Canadian tourists, many of them going to a well know beach resort nearby called Guardalavaca. I settled in, the flight was 1 1/2 hours, quick!

For the past few years, since I lost luggage in Ethiopia, I have avoided checking bags on planes, I have a perfect carry-on backpack that suits my needs if I pack carefully. It's so easy to get on my way when I arrive somewhere. In the case of Holguin, I walked right out of the airport, past the slightly aggressive taxi guys and acted like I knew where I was going. I didn't really, but had scoped information in advance that it was relatively small airport. I walked across the road from the airport and was on a two lane road, turned left and walked about 1/2 mile up the road toward Holguin. I didn't quite know where I would end up but it was 3PM and I had some daylight still. I felt the sun on my face, new sights and smells and it was exhilarating. Classic American cars came by, really cool ones, one of the results of the American blockade. Cubans are amazing recyclers, adaptable and creative to use what they have.

I put out my thumb when vehicles came by, not because I couldn't afford the cab. I do it because I like the adventure, the spontaneity. A few people who passed by in cars, motor and even on horses looked at me curiously, not a common sight to see a foreigner hitchhiking. A nice young man on a motorcycle pulled over and waved me on, told me he was just going 4 miles or so but would give me a lift. He smiled nervously, pulled out an extra helmet and I hopped on, it seemed like a great place to start. My Spanish is about that of a 3rd grader, I know enough to get any questions answered and get where I need to go, really helpful as many of the people I met in the far east of Cuba spoke none (or very little) English. My moto buddy dropped me on a corner in an area that felt fairly agricultural, he refused my offer to give him gas money. I knew petrol was expensive and rare in Cuba, this gesture meant even more, Kind guy.

I walked on another 1/4 mile or so, feeling thrilled about this development. An older gentleman on another moto picked me up, he told me he was happy to take me the 8 miles or so into Holguin, he was more chatty than the first guy and asked about my plans. I told him I was headed for Baracoa, I asked him about the possibility of catching the circumference road around Holguin and heading in that direction instead of going into Holguin. He basically said "love your adventurous spirit, you can do it". This great guy drove about 5 miles out of his way, dropped my at the junction of La Carretera Mayari, again refused money, waved and smiled as he road off. He had told me that he originally was from Moa (closer to Baracoa) and I would love it over there. My goal was to take the north coast road, supposed to be rough in places but passable. For sure this was off the tourist trail, I didn't see any after I left the airport for a couple days.

So, it was probably 4:30PM when I was dropped at the junction, my moto buddy had pointed me down the street to an area where "collectivos" gather, shared trucks that hold maybe 12 people in the back. When I walked up, there was one more spot left on one of them, I stumbled up the stairs and plopped on a bench seat, my fellow passengers kindly making space for my backpack on the floor. My moto guy had told me not to pay more than $3 for the ride to Mayari, happily the driver didn't try to overcharge me and asked for that. Doors closed, we headed down the road, driving out into the country, mountains in the distance. This was a fairly busy road, also the road that went to Santiago. I had been really careful to hop on a collectivo going to Mayari. My fellow passengers, jammed in the truck with me, couldn't help but ask about my journey. They were soft-spoken, shy and curious, seemed amused about my hitchhiking. We turned on the road to Mayari, I was excited now as it looked like my first day crazy idea was going to work. As we got closer, it started getting hillier. Lots of horses and carts, country vibes, lots of smiles. In my reading about this part of the country, I had heard of a few travelers passing through, read their accounts of buses but never heard about a hitchhiker doing it without planning. Why not?

As the daylight slipped away, we pulled up to the busy junction into Mayari. My driver said "we have arrived", was kind enough to point me over to a buddy of his who had a little motorized cart and was going the 2km into Mayari town. I hopped on and headed down little lanes with the guy who owned it, it was quite dark as power outages are common in Cuba right now. He dropped me at a corner near his house, refused money and told me that if I walked a few more blocks, I'd find a blue building that was a "casa particular", a place i could stay for the night. So, there i was, walking down a little street in the middle of nowhere Cuba, using my flashlight so I wouldn't fall in any potholes, trusting that somehow i would find a place to stay for the night. I passed a few people who reinforced that I was on the right track to find the home. This town was friendly, peaceful, people sitting outside and visiting. I was tired and walked on, turned the corner and saw the house right in front of me, it had lights, found out later they had a generator.

I knocked on the door, the smiling owners (a couple) came out to greet me, asked about my journey, again amused by the spontaneous quality of it. They told me to throw down my bag, poured me a big glass of delicious cold fresh fruit juice, sat on a comfy chair and visited with them for a bit. No one was staying there, they had a room for me, $18 with AC, and including dinner and breakfast. I was home, and it felt great. I had scraped my leg getting off the truck I had been on, the house owner told me they were both doctors and expertly cleaned me up, used iodine and bandaged me, really great. They showed me to my room, I dropped my bags, grabbed the first of many cold showers and dropped down for a rest on my cozy bed. The room had two double beds, very nicely appointed. They had two rooms that they rented out, they explained to me that doctors don't make much and this is a way to supplement their income. They enjoy the guests who pass through as well, the interactions they have. There was a shared shower that served the two rooms, this night I had it to myself, there was a lovely balcony attached to my room that i could walk out on and overlook life in this little town.

I heard a knock a bit later, the owners brought me up a big plate of tasty spaghetti and fresh sliced cucumbers and cold beer, they adjusted my AC so it was very comfortable, checked on my bandage, chatted about my plans for the next day. The man told me he would run me up to the main road in the morning, a great time to catch rides headed farther east. I went out for a walk, couldn't go very far as the power was out and it was dark now. Came across a group of twenty somethings, blasting music and dancing in the streets. A couple of them were a bit drunk, in a friendly way came over and shook my hand. I headed back to my room, visited with the owners and some friends who were in town from Miami and had stopped by. These friends had left the country years ago, these doctors were the first people I met who described the process of leaving to me. Even though things are tough, they love where they live and were really struggling with the decision of leaving or not. Tough times with inflation and shortages, yet such a tough decision. To leave means to give up your home, risk a dangerous and expensive trip through Mexico or an even more dangerous journey on a small boat. Tough choices, for now they were staying put in the peaceful little life they had created for themselves as doctors and the rooming house.

I took another shower as it was easy to get sweaty outside with the heat and humidity. I changed some US money with the owners, normal people give a better exchange rate than the government places. He explained to me to only change as much money as I needed each day, to not be stuck with unnecessary Cuban money at the end of trip. Did some journalling, reflected on my superb first day and collapsed in bed at about 9PM, huge smile on my face. It had been great adventure so far and I had put myself in an excellent position to reach Baracoa the next day without too much trouble. As always during this trip, my Spanish was helping, I couldn't have made these things happen without my language skills.

8 solid hours sleep later, about 5am, I awoke, stretched my still sore body and packed up my bags, walked out on my balcony and waved down to the neighbors passing on horses and on foot. The daylight was coming, saw the pretty colors and then sun rays peek over the horizon. It was a little bit cooler in the morning, I breathed in the air and felt grateful. Just at this moment, the woman owner knocked at my door and brought my tasty breakfast of an omelette with local cheese, fresh fruit, juice and coffee with milk and local bread. I ate fairly quickly, hopped on the back of the owner's moto and he drove me back up to the junction. I was rested and ready for my day, a couple trucks were loading nearby, I grabbed (again) the last seat on one headed to Moa. Not ten minutes later, we pulled way, this group of passengers more lively than the one the day before, perhaps we were all rested and the cool morning air was energizing. We headed east, every mile brought more vegetation, lushness, rolling hills, just beautiful. There were so many places I could have happily stopped and explored, my heart though was excited to get to Baracoa. 2 beautiful hours later, with heat increasing, we turned left off the highway and pulled into Toa, a fairly decent sized town with a port facility and unsightly mine nearby. On the north coast, it serves as an important transit hub, also seems to be a place where agricultural products are shipped out from this part of the country.

The driver dropped all of us under a huge banyan tree that provides natural cover from the sun. He told me another collectivo would come along soon to Baracoa, this was great time of day to catch one. I had been so fortunate so far, no waiting at all for rides. Happened again, not 10 minutes later I was loaded up on another truck and heading out to the east with another kind group of Cubans, all people heading to Baracoa, like me. We crossed the new bridge over the Toa River, the one that was washed out by the hurricane and paralyzed the area for awhile. Ugh, the driver forgot something and we had to go back about 5 miles. In short order, we were back on course and zipping along past jungley hills, striking vistas of the sea in the distance. I had heard that this road had been very rough in the past, it seemed like there had been some repairs and it was pretty decent.

Somewhere, in this little “collectivo” truck bus holding 12 people, on the remote northeast Cuba coast between Moa and Baracoa, I think that’s where I fell in love with the Cuban people. Had a great vibe with my fellow riders, don’t try this if you don’t speak Spanish btw. We shared snacks, it started raining, my backpack was on top. They said “Vicente, we will bring your backpack in”. One guy stopped the truck, went to get it, came back in with a sheepish look and no backpack. He said “se fue”, “it’s gone”. I looked with horror. “Mi Mochila?”, “My backpack”. My new buddy smiled and said “no, the rain is gone” then patted me on the shoulder and said “relax, we are very kind and trusting in this part of Cuba, you won’t have any problems”. All my fellow passengers had laughed at the misunderstanding and patted me also on the back. Great people.

Our truck also had good clearance and apparently there hadn't been recent heavy rains. All those things helped to make our ride fairly smooth, just one or two real bumpy sections that didn't last that long. We rolled past coastal communities, past the Rio Duaba and then rounded a bend and there was Baracoa in front of me in the distance, amazing.

I had booked a room for a couple nights on the outskirts of town, my bus driver was kind enough to roll right up to my place and drop me off, my fellow passengers saying they would see me in town over the next couple days. The place was called Las Palmeiras, on Mariana Grajales St. My collective truck sped off, fellow passengers, waving. I knocked on a gate that I thought was the place, the super kind and welcoming owners, came out smiling and welcomed me, showed me up to my room. Met some Spanish and French backpackers leaving my place today, they said rave things about Baracoa, eyes lit up when they spoke about it. Got some excellent tips about hikes and excursions from them.

My room: large $9 room with AC, private shower, nice shared patio with other room that looked out to the mountains in the distance. The power was out, owner said it came back on at 8PM. So, dropped my things in the dark room, threw the shutters open for light, took a cold shower and walked out to explore Baracoa. And walk I did, walking all over the charming town, slightly run down in places but lots of character, still recovering from the hurricane's direct hit a few years prior. Found the vibrant little town center, walked the waterfront (Malecon) all the way to the end by the stadium. Learned about a great walk that i can take this direction. Climbed some stairs up to a big hotel (being remodeled right now) and great views down over the bay and town, good to get up and get perspective of the area.

Everyone I was meeting in town seemed super nice, a few people trying to hook on to me as a guide. I just told them for now I was going to wing it independent and maybe i would connect with them in a couple days. Learned about a place to rent a bike the next day, talked to the owner and arranged it for 7AM pickup the next day. Really great deal, 5 Euros for the whole day, nice bike too. Walked back to my room, the owners offered dinner for 10 Euros. I told them no thanks, that I would find a place in town. I sat on the patio outside my room, local music and bass beat pumping on the street below, the gorgeous mountains and lush landscape in the distance. I had chosen well with Baracoa, this was going to be great. Getting out on a bike into the countryside the next day would be fun. Although tired, I mustered the energy to head back out, found a simple local $1.50 dinner of steak, fried bananas, rice and cucumbers, and couple beers. Strolled back to my room about 8PM, again found nothing but friendly people on the streets, walked around some of the older houses with character. Back to my room, so nice, the AC was on now and it felt great. Changed money with guesthouse owner, got a few more tips from him. Collapsed in my bed and fell to sleep quickly, the sound of rain outside lulling me to sleep.

I was a bit groggy the next morning when I woke, 3 beers yesterday probably didn't help. I felt really happy though, just lying in bed a few minutes, realizing that I manifested my dream that i just conceived a month earlier. My back hurt a bit, too much walking on flip flops the day before and I just needed to travel harden a little. The day looked lovely, not too hot, a few clouds in the sky but the rain had passed. Went to find the guy in town with the bike rentals, he answered the door right away when I knocked at 7AM. Super nice guy, recommended I take his best mountain bike as i would need it for the ride out the Rio Duaba Road. Same price as all the others, 5 Euros a day was a great price. Was feeling like I might keep the bike for a few days to give me freedom to explore, there was a safe place to keep it no problem at my guesthouse. The bike rental place seemed just fine either way, daily or multi day.

Popped back on bike to my guesthouse, tasty breakfast overlooking the lush mountains of strong local coffee, rich local hot chocolate (I mixed and made a mocha), omelet, country cheese, delicious bananas and fresh guanabana juice. Happy to have this each day I stayed here, great choice of location. At that moment, as i sat there with my delicious breakfast, I could very easily see staying in Baracoa my whole trip, pretty different than my usual urge to move on and find other places. I had a feeling that Baracoa would unfold in layers, I would be proven so right. It seemed so far a very kind and welcoming place, most people very mellow. As I sat finishing breakfast with a big smile on my face, the rains came for another 30 minutes. They eventually stopped, nice clean smell in the air. I headed north out of town, the mountain bike was in great condition.

People waved, I waved, again so few travelers around here. I rode to the outskirts of town past the morning bustle, past a large cacao processing factory, and another that made activated charcoal. Turned onto the Rio Duaba road and quickly realized how thankful I was that I had a good mountain bike. Rough road, saw a number of little farms with horses and people living there, really peaceful area near this lovely river. I could see El Yunque peak in the distance so beautiful, I had no solid plans this day, just wanted to ride out this road and explore. I climbed a couple fairly steep hills, proud to say I stayed on the bike for the climbs. Got about 3 miles out and got to a National Park booth. I inquired inside,they told me that it would cost the equivalent of $4 to go to the waterfall with a local guy, but only $8 if I summited El Yunque and went to the waterfall. I hadn't planned on hiking the mountain but a local young man was ready to go, the price was right and the weather looked pretty good, clouds in the sky to block the sun but no rain. I thought, "why not?". 5 minutes later I hit the trail with this guy, walking up a long graded hill paralleling the river, crossing over in an ideal location to actually keep our shoes fairly dry by crossing on river stones.

The guide turned out to be fantastic, no English but we were communicating fine. We walked through a cacao plantation, he stopped to talk with a couple of friends along the way and introduced me. The trail was muddy from morning rains, had decent handholds but we definitely slipped a little in places. It was humid for sure, I was sweating bullets. The trail got steeper, we stopped for 15minutes at a hut to rest. Then it got even steeper, this 2 1/2 hour hike was going to be no joke. I was pretty exhausted and my back hurt, almost quit one time but powered on, thinking about my recently departed Dad and that I felt a little like he was there with me, as he had been on previous trips. Just when I needed it the most, we got up to an area where it was a little cooler, mostly above the tree line so we had wind that was glorious. As we reached closer to the summit,there was karst rock that provided excellent handholds, much appreciated with how tired I was. And then, just when I didn't have much energy left, my guide said "we are here". Really stunning, took off my shirt, felt the cool air. Inspiring views of Baracoa below, cool to see the topography of the whole area from above. We stayed at the summit for about 30 minutes, I actually lay down and rested in some grass for a little while.

Kept my sweaty shirt off for the descent, my buddy sensed I was struggling a bit so offered to carry my pack. He was a strong dude, climbs the mountain sometimes 2 times a day. I felt refreshed, we made really good time on the way down, probably only an hour or so down, the muddy trail had dried some and that helped for sure. Crossed back over the river, longish hike on the other side of the river for about 1/2 a mile, long hill, then descended back down to the river, looked more wild and beautiful here, mountains rising in the background, huge river rocks. We crossed here, had to wade to my chest. My super nice guide carried my day pack above his head. Walked another hill through big rocks up a tributary of the Rio Duaba. And then, in front of us, a glorious jungle waterfall, just the two of us there, clear and gorgeous, sat and had some snacks and then went in for a swim, some jumps off the little cliffs next to it. This waterfall was stunning, about 35 feet high, places to sit actually in the waterfall.The jungle was pristine all around me, the Cuban government seems dead set on preserving this natural park.

I was feeling just great, we dried off, waded across the river again and climbed the long trail back to the road and then back closer to the national park office, we had left my bike at a finca (farm) that served food, had told the woman that we would have a bite to eat when we came back. I had taken along my little bag of gifts, given out a few on the road to local kids. Pens, little bouncy balls, balloons. We were welcomed with a smile. my guide buddy went in the kitchen to chat with some friends, the woman showed me her husband grinding chocolate the natural way, brought me some super rich chocolate drink lightly sweetened and delicious, accompanied by a big plate of rice and river fish. Hit the spot, I was really really hungry. I was quite tired, said goodbye to my nice guide, tipped him $3 which made him really happy. Had to walk up some hills with my bike for the first half mile, then hopped on and road the rest of the way on the Rio Duaba Road and to the main road and then back the 4 miles to Baracoa town. Took bike back, decided I could always get it the next day if I needed it. I bought some internet access cards to use the public wifi spot in plaza, was able to logon, the connection very good. Sitting in the plaza using my internet with locals and a few travelers next to me, I smiled how much I was falling in love with Baracoa. It seemed so friendly, almost old fashioned. Back to my room for a cold shower and some well deserved rest, I'd walk out later into town. Could use a massage person for my back, might just take a down day tomorrow to recover, go to a few shops, museums. I smiled, thinking how hard that would be with so many places to explore nearby and views in all directions calling out to me.

Headed out into the evening air, walked the Malecon (the street next to the sea in Baracoa). There were still a few ruins out that way, locals explained to me that it was vibrant before the hurricane and 25 foot tsunami wave hit and wiped out that part of town. It flooded much of the rest of town, wiped out bridges, many places are just recovering. These people are resilient, for sure. I walked to the north end of Baracoa Peninsula, had seen a sign for a nice looking restaurant in an old fort called "La Punta". I walk inside, asked for a table, it was a fairly fancy government run place. They scoffed at my shorts, I saw well dressed groups of older travelers and influential looking Cuban official (perhaps traveling from the capitol) inside. The host told me with his attitude that i had to have reservations much in advance and there wasn't anything available, even though i saw empty tables. I went over his head, asked for the manager, told him i was a travel writer and was writing about all my experiences, that I understood the dress code and would love to come back the next night. The mean little host guy got very quiet very fast, the manager told me he would be happy to have a table for me the next night. As I walked away, I felt clear that I wouldn't return, just didn't like the vibe in here. Besides, in the spirit of my "support for the Cuban people" visa, this place was definitely government run and operated.

I wandered the little colonial streets of Baracoa, architecture to me looking like late 1800s to early 1900s, colorful paint, friendly people waving as I walked by. This town is not insignificant, 50,000 residents and most of them living in this central area. You can walk from one side of town to the other and it might take 25 minutes. I found another friendly looking cafe on a side street, a little nicer looking than the simple place I ate the night before. Prices were higher, about $8 for dinner, but menu filled with coconut milk cooked dishes that i had read about. I got a big pile of special tiny river fish called teti, can only be caught/harvested during the full moon. The fishermen catch with their nets, the teti arrive in huge balls of fish in the churning water where the rivers meet the sea, only at the Rio Duaba, Rio Toa and Rio Miel. Came with a huge plate of rice cucumbers and I had a delicious caipirinha to top it off. Delicious. When I got back to my room, the owner explained that another traveler had booked my room for the next day, that i hadn't let him know definitively that i wanted to stay more nights. He offered to let me stay in a room on the lower floor where they lived, I thought the breeze wouldn't be very good so i didn't commit to it. I told him I'd think about it the next morning and let him know.

I was feeling at the time that maybe this was a sign that I was supposed to hit the road and head down to Yumuri Canyon and river, for example. Or maybe I would just find a room close by, I really did enjoy being around the conveniences of town, I really liked this place. At this time, no decisions were needed, I headed out and heard live music in the plaza, chatted with some nice people, had another couple rum drinks and used internet some more. What an amazing day it had been! As I walked back toward my guesthouse, I looked out in the distance at El Yunque Mountain, a real feeling of joy and accomplishment washed over me. Another cold shower, the AC was working well now at 9PM, Dropped off to sleep, slept hard until morning, tired lad.

Up pretty early the next morning, wandered into town as it was before my owners serve breakfast. Managed to find a coffee and a piece of pizza made in a tiny shop. Pizza is simple, tasty here, 10 cents for a slice. Stretched my back out a little by strolling the Malecon, bought some more internet cards and by instinct walked over to the part of Baracoa that faces the pretty harbor and El Yunque mountains. Took a few photos and then realized that there were a few simple guesthouses here. One place was full but then met a very friendly owner (named Marilynn) of another small place, she was enthusiastic and won me over with her attitude. She showed me a simple room she had for $15, clean with shower, AC when power was on and it's own balcony with a mind-blowing view across the harbor to the mountains. Where I was a little perplexed to lose my other room, this development was fantastic, great location and view. I told her I would stay 4 nights, went back and had a final tasty breakfast at my first place, said my goodbyes and moved my things over to my great new room.

So much for e chill day. I walked all the way through town, past the stadium and around the bay south of town, Bahia Miel. I followed the beach until I saw some locals branch off behind the mangroves, I followed them and then saw brightly colored fishing boats in the distance. I crossed over a rickety bridge, turned left into a charming little village, paid my fee to enter the area at the visitor booth, think it was $2. I asked about what was around, the guy in the booth pointed up the hill and said to catch up with a couple Westerners, that there was a "cave pool" up there. In the hot sun, stocked with water, I headed up the hill, overtook took nice young travelers from Denmark, pretty wild as I had seen almoner no travelers for a few days. I said hello, asked if they were headed to the cave pool, joined them for about a 1/2 mile walk. Really pretty countryside once we got to the top of hill, farmers, horses. We saw a little sign on the left that said "Cueva del Agua", walked in and met the super nice owner. Really kind man, toured us all over his organic fruit farm, gave us some fresh juice. At the edge of the farm, he walked us to a beautiful spot overlooking the karst landscape rocks and ocean views in all directions. Just stunning, breeze, he pointed down and showed me where Playa Blanca was, I'd go later today.

The owner called us to follow him down a steep coral rock stairway that cut down the cliff face, he explained that he had carved and built it years before. At the bottom, we hiked another 1/2 mile through jungle and then saw the cave. He called us down deeper, into the cave mouth and then showed his flashlight on the pool deep in the cave, really cool. We all got in and cooled off, he explained to us that the cave is a mix of fresh and salt water, little crayfish nipped at me when I was in there. The cave is an important place to the people of this area, huge banyan trees surround it and provide shade. Local churches come here to do baptisms, he also just lets locals use it for recreation, even though it is his property. He believes that this cave was used many hundreds of years ago for rituals by the locals Taino indians, ruins and hieroglyphics have been found closeby, even though the culture is officially extinct. Many say it isn't though, you can see indigenous featured in the faces of many people in Baracoa, many huts shows indigenous construction still and certainly coconut milk cooking has very old roots, unique to this part of Cuba.

Refreshing soak, then we headed back up to the finca, his fruit farm. he showed us around some more, told us we could stay here if we ever wanted to on a future visit. He introduced us to family and then brought out fresh coffee and an amazing huge platter of fresh fruit..papaya, banana, passion fruit, other things that were delicious but i didn't recognize. We waited out a burst of rain that came, then headed back down the hill to the village, said goodbye to the Danes and I walked quickly alone out to Playa Blanca, about 3/4 mile. It was the end of the day so it was only me there, some pretty beach, channels of water that came in and out of some large volcanic looking rocks, little caves to explore. Really pretty views all the way across to Baracoa town, it was getting darker so I headed back to the village, vowing to come back another day in my trip. Peaceful walk back the beach, past the stadium and all the way back to my room on the far side of town. Amazing,I had walked more than 10 miles this day. Cold shower felt superb.

Walked out to town, went to the little locals' cafe near the plaza and had a tasty fish meal with rice and cucumbers for about $1.50, the women at the place (I think it is government run) were hurried and not the friendliest but the food was a nice value. All the people were friendly locals eating in here, beers were flowing and lots of laughter, people definitely engaged me in conversation about my visit, they seemed very proud of the beauty of Baracoa. Strolled out after my meal to the atmospheric bar/cantina, was in full flow with live music and dancing. Had a couple cachancharas, the delicious drink with rum,lime, honey. Saw the Quebecois guys I had met the day before while mountain biking, strolled back to my room, taking in the architecture of the cool older homes of the town. I was feeling at this moment like heading down to Yumuri the next day, looked a little far to bike, thinking I could hitchhike down that way in the morning, explore, then work my way slowly back, find some seafood and village culture, there looked to be cacao farms down that way too.

The next day was Friday November 18th. Woke up well slept but needing coffee, headed out to the kitchen and Mariynn the owner had coffee and omelette, sat on my veranda looking out at the bay and El Yunque. It was really interesting how much i was falling in love with this town, normally on trips I would have been itching to move on, I felt like there was so much more to see here. I also just loved the town and evening vibe, was finding enough good food, music, welcoming local culture, ideal place. Whoa! Great development, went back out into the kitchen and ran into to German women (cousins) who had come in the night before after I went to bed. They had made plans to go to Yumuri Canyon with a driver, said I could get in on it, only $20 for the whole day including a big seafood meal, gas, guide, hike, swimming. Sounded great, they said we had to leave in 20 minutes. Pulled my bag together and went outside, a couple local guys pulled up in a slightly beat down car, they didn't look too excited to see me, I think they had imagined spending the day with the two women 😊. No worries, I greeted them with smiles and laughter, they loosened up and we loaded up, headed south out of town past the stadium, then branched left and hugged the coastline to areas I hadn't seen yet.

We stopped at a chocolate plantation that ran tours and sold things to travelers, ran into a number of other Westerners there, clearly a place that guides bring people. That being said, seeing the farm and learning about the chocolate making process was interesting, got to eat chocolate in different states, bitter to sweet, drink some more rich chocolate drink too. The woman explained to us that the secondary canopy of this area was so important to cacao cultivation, that the cacao trees did much better than the exposed coconut trees in the strong hurricane. We took off, drove south and stopped at some really cool small rock tunnel the road ran through, called the German Pass, I think german engineers cut a hole in the rock years ago for the road. Beautiful deserted beaches down below, we carried on for another 5 miles or so, the road got narrow, we turned left down a lane by the sea and pulled up at a peaceful little settlement with a few houses, old classic cars and some friendly people, at the mouth of the Yumuri River. We made arrangements with a local woman to have a seafood meal when we returned from our hike.

The guys walked us up a hill, then down to a small dock with rowboats. We hopped on, were on the water about 1/2 mile, basically enough to get past the steep canyon walls and to more level ground inside the river canyon. Really stunning, birds all around, wind whooshing through the canyon. The guys explained to us that this was a prolific gold mining area during colonial times, the Spaniards enslaved the local Taino indigenous peoples to work mining gold. It was brutal, horrid worked, some chose to jump from the cliffs and commit suicide rather than live a life of slavery. As they jumped, it is said that they yelled "Yo-muri", essentially "I die". Tragic story but a beautiful place. The canyon and the whole area has been made into another National Park by the Cuban government, environmentally protected and rightfully so. We hopped out of the rowboat on what looked like a little island, we walked awhile, forded the river and joined a hiking trail on what I'll call the south side of the Yumuri River. We hiked maybe a mile out and mile back through fairly lush jungle-like landscape. Huge mature tropical trees, some unique spiny looking specimens, lots of birds, insects and remnants of a huge escalator like lift, I guess it was used nearly 100 years ago to bring harvested tree trunks out of the canyon to the lip above.

If you are ever in this part of the world, don't miss this canyon and area. It's possible to have a much longer hike I guess to a waterfall at the end, we weren't as goal oriented. We had gotten a later start for the day and just enjoyed a couple swimming holes, great swim in the crystal clear water with small cliffs to jump off of and little caves to explore. Great day, so relaxing. We hiked back the trail, forded the river, walked back up the island. I'm not sure how but the rowboat was there to meet us, the boatman let me row toward the end of the trip, really fun. I got to pull the boat into the dock, very ungracefully. Local kids were howling with laughter as I crashed the boat gently into the dock. We all hopped off and looked at some local crafts that had been brought down to the river to sell, raw chocolate and wood products for sale too. Local kids were swarming me asking for things, I left one of the bouncy balls, with the promise that they would share.

We crossed the river mouth, made our way back to where we left the car. We sat and had fresh fruit juice, looking out at the serene ocean. The lady we had spoken to before we left runs a tiny cafe to serve travelers who come through here, she had an amazing meal of fish, lobster and octopus in coconut milk out to us in about ten minutes. Really, really tasty, friendly people. We said goodbye, hopped back in our car and headed back north, stopping for an hour at pretty little Manglito Beach, sandy beach with a huge banyan tree providing shade nearby. We sat and relaxed for a bit, some local women came over and offered a professional massage on the beach. I took her up on it, $5 for 30 minutes. My back was still sore from my days of nonstop activity. I encouraged her to massage with more strength, she actually did a great job. Surreal, lying on my stomach on a tiny beach in Eastern Cuba getting a deep tissue massage. I smiled. We rolled back to Baracoa, I was getting so familiar with the surroundings and landmarks after a few days here. Back to my room for another delicious cold shower, quite bite to eat then sleep.

Had so much fun this day, decided to do it again the next. The local guys had talked to my fellow travelers about going to a place called Maguana Beach for a BBQ, they offered for me to come along. I suggested that we go out the Rio Duaba Rd. again, I had such and amazing time out there my first day and wanted to see the waterfall again, I just really liked the vibe out there. The guys said that we could do it. Amazingly, the whole day would again be only $20 including food. So much beauty and surprises in the Baracoa area, I had found it impossible to leave. Up the next morning around 6am, had a quiet stroll around in town, back to my room for a tasty breaky looking across the bay. The guys rolled and picked us up at 8:30, we hit the road headed north and picked up an old homemade BBQ grill, some cabbage, charcoal and a big red snapper from a local fisherman. We turned out the Rio Duaba Rd. cruised by El Yunque, got to see it closer up again, seemed so long ago (although it had just been days) when I climbed it. It was amazing how close this beautiful area was to El Yunque, my rather sore body appreciated being in truck this time instead of on a bike. We drove on, finally parked close to the river trail, hiked down and found that the river was quite a bit higher than when I crossed the other day.

I was doubtful whether we could cross but our guys rallied, held our daypacks over their heads and we all swam part of the crossing. On the other side, hiked up to the beautiful waterfall again, I could never get enough of this place. Fun to have the other travelers with me and see it through their eyes a second time. My guide took me up to the upper part of the falls and showed me a rather nerve-wracking place I could actually sit in the falls. he told me it was safe, I wasn't so sure. Just a stunning spot, we hung out for about an hour, then hiked back to the river and swam across. There was another group of tourists on the other side looking longingly at our river crossing, clearly their guide had decided not to risk the crossing, I think because there were some older people in the group. We hiked back up the trail on the other side, hopped in the truck, big smiles all around. Driving back the Rio Duaba Rd, pretty countryside views in all directions. This Baracoa area had really gotten under my skin, I'm smiling so big right now 6 weeks after my trip while writing about it. As a traveler, to find something authentic and special in this big world is always an incredible feeling. It really helped the experience that there weren't many tourists around.

Smiles on the peoples' faces anywhere I went, safe, laughter, great danceable music playing all the time. We hit the main road again, turned north, crossed the large Toa River and turned right down small roads to head down to Maguana Beach. Nothing really announces the area, it's not developed at all. After a couple miles, the beach opened up in front of us, really pretty long strip of sand, clean ocean, shade trees to sit under by the water, vegetation that comes down to the water, very natural and undeveloped feeling. Our guys set up the BBQ charcoal, no rush as we were going to be here for a few hours. I chilled, took, a nap, long walk on this empty beach and had a swim too. There were picnic spots by the water, met friendly groups of locals playing soccer, dancing and enjoying their Saturday together. Really really beautiful beach and location.

The guys called us over after awhile, they had brought all the food over to a little cafe they seemed to have a relationship with. Delicious, the whole fish was slow cooked on the grill with lemon, wine and garlic, served with rice with ajillo (garlic sauce) and cabbage slaw made with what they picked up earlier. No dressing, just lime juice for flavor. Had some tasty coffee and fresh fruit after our meal. It's funny, I had read anther traveler's blog about being bothered by pushy salespeople while at Maguana, I didn't experience any of that, maybe it helped that we here with local guys. The day was slipping away from us, packed up, hopped in the truck, couldn't start it, push started it old school and go it going. Actually had to do this a couple more times on the way home, stalled once out in the countryside, took the opportunity to watch the sun setting over the mountains in the distance. Such a simple beautiful day, I felt the precious moment. The guys let me drive the truck for awhile, good fun. Hit the main road again, rolled back into Baracoa, town life and vibe on the street picked up as we got closer.

Got back to my room, sat on my balcony again for the last light of the day setting over El Yunque, the sound of clicking dominoes, it's a man thing and they often played right below my room, I they come out to play near the water as cooler. My electricity wasn't working but the cool shower felt superb. I know I've said this so many times in this blog but I really remember how great those showers felt, refreshing, revitalizing. Heard soft happy voices of the dominoes guys down below, my door open to my balcony and wind flowing in, I closed my eyes and napped for a bit. I realized that it was Saturday night and decided that for sure I would rally into town, even though it would have been quite easy to just stay asleep. Had said no to the local guys about another day together. At this moment, I was maybe feeling like getting another bike for the day tomorrow, just exploring some villages to the south. I was feeling like I would leave Baracoa Monday morning on a super early collectivo truck, planned to get all the way to Holguin and now knew how to do it. That would give me a night and a day in Holguin, ample time for some shopping and relaxing before heading home. For now though, I would enjoy my last two nights and tomorrow, a full day in Baracoa. It would be hard indeed to drag myself away from this place.

The next day was Sunday, always a funny feeling when your short trip is past its halfway point. I've been taking 8-10 day journeys the past couple years, my schedule and life haven't allowed the 3-4 weeks trips that I used to go on. This reality has made me shift my way of thinking and traveling. Instead of going to few places in a country, I have focused on one region. Although aware that my trip length isn't as long, I tend to enjoy each day more intensely, celebrate each moment. When I travel alone, the days seem so much longer, so many opportunities for wonderful things to happen. It is almost as if one week can feel like 2, compete freedom to define my days and evenings.

Last night, I rested for a bit, almost fell asleep early but gathered the strength to rally to town, Saturday night and weekend culture a definite motivator. I think I had been tired just because I had gone so hard physically since I arrived here. I wouldn't change a thing, it had been great. I stepped out, tried to use the public wifi in the park, very weak connection this evening with power completely out on one side of the street as usual. I finally gave up trying to get online, just as well as strong rains came at that moment, the others in the park (and me) quickly ran under the covered government buildings to one side of the park. I just followed the others, it was clear that they had done this before. Then, the rain became even stronger, torrential, lashing us all with gusts of wind and rain. It's a funny little dance, we all huddled together for warmth, moving to one end or the other depending on which direction the rain was driving in from. I just had to laugh, one of those special travel moments that is hard to explain, good fun though. Meanwhile, the electricity went off on our side of the street, came on on the other side.

Across the plaza, the old classic bar in the colonial era building is always poised to open when the electricity comes on, the excellent band ready to start. With the rain driving on us like crazy on our side, the live music cranked up, people laughing and dancing inside. The whole thing was very Hemingway-esque. Finally, after 20 minutes or so, the rain abated a bit. I braved it, ran across the park with my flip-flops sloshing through huge rain puddles. The people inside greeted me with smiles, patting me on the back as I came out of the downpour. Everybody was packed inside like sardines in the little old bar, doing their best to stay out of the rain. Somehow, an expert level salsa dancing couple found room to spin and wow the crowd. The band had congas, a trumpet, a stand up bass guitar and two very good male vocalist bandleaders. The whole thing felt very old school Ricky Ricardo like, felt like I was in another moment in time, of course always helped by the classic cars parked outside. One vocalist I'll call a rhythm vocalist, kept the flow going while the other one would venture out into the crowd and engage people with strong emotional vocal outbursts, singing passionately.

As quickly as it started, the rain just stopped. On queue, everyone and the musicians moved outside. I sat outside with a local guy I had met inside, a super kind English teacher. We sat down next to another guys who the English teacher knew, he turned out to be a 65 year old guy named Marco from Southern Italy wholes here 3 months a year. He has a successful restaurant in Italy that his son runs when he is here. A second later, another Italian guy named Alessandro came over, hilarious with his loud voice and Italian hand gestures. Then, almost surreal, a third Italian guy came over to the table, dressed most smartly with a scarf, although still hot outside. It turned out that he also knew the local English teacher. I think they may have dated in the past. So, the five of us drank quite a few rum drinks, shared many stories and laughs. Funny group of people plopped down at this place in this moment in time.

My English teacher buddy, after a few drinks, with deep feeling told me a Cuban phrase that explains the main condition here. The doctor couple I had met earlier on the first day of my trip essentially said the same thing. "In Cuba, you have three choices" leave/escape to go to the US, stay here and be angry and bitter or choose to be happy with what you have and enjoy life". Good words, universally true actually. He also reiterated that the people of Baracoa, with its natural beauty and fertile soil, have it better than many parts of Cuba. Great night, all the guys were urging me to go out to some other bar with dancing, but the rum and sun exposure hit me and I said a quick goodnight and strolled back in the evening air to my room, fell quickly to sleep.

Woke up the next morning with no plan for my last full day in Baracoa, walked way down to the south end of town by the stadium, caught a pedal bike taxi for awhile. The driver looked like he was struggling in the heat, I turned the tables on him and asked him if I could pedal/drive. Made him laugh, I biked for about 1/2 mile until my driver lost patience when i almost ran into something 😊. He rode all the way down the dirt road past the stadium, until it ended at the beach. I had had such a good times out here a few days ago and decided to go back as there was more to see and explore. Walked the long beach, across the footbridge through the fishing village, paid my entry fee and headed back up the long hill behind the village. Near the top, I asked directions to the Mirador (overlook) and was pointed up a small road to the right, it got quite steep, red clay. I was grateful that it wasn't raining as this was a little slippery already.

Passed a few farms, some local guys carrying bread and supplies up the hill, donkeys laden down with supplies. Hot day, i was sweating for sure. The steep hill was starting to create vistas down over the region, I had heard that it was stunning at the top. I got where I had been pointed, saw a nondescript home. Walked through the gate, a kind soft spoken man came out, kindly walked me through his fruit farm to the stunning overlook, looking all the way over the area, striking views of town, the mountains, sea and river. There was a really pretty cabana closest to the view, he told me that a Frenchman had helped him pay for and develop this place, he comes for a couple months each year. He brought out a plate of delicious fruit, told me if i ever wanted, i could stay up here. He didn't ask for any money, I of course offered him some at the end of our time together. Really laid-back loving people here.

After a nice visit, headed back down the steep hill, turned right, decided to go to the amazing nearby cave pool again as i was closeby. There were huge bulls in the middle of the road, I had to tiptoe by them just out of reach of the ropes they were tied on. Pretty fun to see the farmer at the cave pool/organic farm place again, he remembered me from three days earlier, said that most people don't come more than once. He ran me through the farm, to the lookout and right down to the cave pool again, I was very hot and looking forward to the cool off. Fantastic, soaked for about 30 minutes, he turned his flashlight off and I had pitch dark for awhile, little crayfish nipping at my toes in the water, funny. So glad I came back, the guy offered again for me to stay here if/when I ever came back. Nice walk back and down the hill, headed out to the beach Playa Blanca as I wanted more time out there. I ran into a local guide I had met in town, he was there with a nice german woman and her young son. Met a sweet Polish couple as well.

Explored the really pretty rocks and caves, found some little spots where the water came in and out, but I could hang out in the caves just out of the water's reach. Took some great photos, could see Baracoa town in the distance. Hung out for about an hour, just enjoying the place and these social moments. Walked slowly back to the little cafe in the village, stopping at a few more beautiful photo spots. Got some water in the friendly cafe, tried to hope ride on passing small boat, had heard that the little river went all the way to the stadium. No luck, the fishermen seemed to have already passed by for the day, I walked over the bridge, through the mangroves and the 2 mile walk down the long beach back to town, getting dark outside as I reached town. Caught a bicycle taxi all the way cross town and back to my room. Another rather epic day, i relaxed and made plans to head back the north coast road the next day toward Moa.

Just at that time, the German guests in my guesthouse told me that they had arranged for a ride the next morning headed south to the city of Santiago de Cuba. I hadn't thought i would go there but now was being offered the opportunity to see the cool southern coast, get a little city vibe and even have the chance to spend one night there. I answered immediately "yes"! So many little surprises this trip, how could I say no? That would put me a fairly easy ride to the Holguin Airport for my flight home on Tuesday and let me have one more "mini-trip". I was very hungry as i had pretty much just eaten fruit for the day. I headed out for dinner to the local place I had been to a few days ago on a side street near the main Baracoa plaza, the place that serves traditional dishes with coconut milk. I had fish in the coconut and of course a couple rum drinks, really tasty. Headed home to pack up for the next day, excited of what was to come.

Hopped up the next morning, sweet Marilyn the innkeeper made a tasty breakfast, I was inspired so wrote her a funny thank you song that I sung to her. I took one last look off my balcony out across the bay to El Yunque mountain, stopped on my backpack, jumped in the car with my fellow travelers, was going to split the cost of the car, only $20, great! Sad to leave but filled with joy, we curled along the bay and then headed into the hills south of Baracoa. Really pretty ride all the way, little villages that deserve future exploration, kids selling fruit, raw chocolate and hand crafted wooden items by the side of the road. There were a variety of micro climates along the way, definitely much more arid as we hit the south coast, strikingly beautiful and different after being in tropical foliage for a week.

Stunning cliffs at the coast, bright blue water and lots of large cactus, almost similar (but smaller) to the saguaro cacti in Tuscon. We cruised across the south coast road, stopping for tasty corn fritters in the friendly city of Guantanamo. Ran into some Quebecois people here that i had seen a couple times in Baracoa. Smiles all around, we carried on through some pretty countryside, stopped at a tiny spot that our driver knew to get coffee. Had two strong espresso shots, only 10 cents per shot, plus a delicious handmade sandwich with thick local ham and country cheese. This was a real locals' cafe, classic cars stopping in, people on horse and wagon too. No hint of tourist overcharging, really welcoming people. We hit the road, good quality roads all the way into Santiago. We actually hopped on some kind of freeway road, the best road i had seen all trip. The landscape was getting more lush again, we dropped down from the hills and could see Santiago de Ciba in the distance, the second largest city in Cuba. Was supposed to be a beautiful city filled with old architecture, we headed through the generic outskirts and slowly came into the historic core, headed to check out a historic guesthouse we had heard about.

I must say, the location of Santiago is just stunning, hills and buildings overlooking a beautiful bay, large historic buildings and churches, over the years this was a prosperous city. Rum, sugar, commerce, Castro overran some military barracks here for his first significant win that led to his takeover. Obligatory government sponsored patriotic billboards around town, and murals too. All supportive of the collective mission of Cuba, people wouldn't want to express themselves to the contrary, government just doesn't tolerate it. At the end of the day, i was quite aware that i was in a tightly controlled country, I was there to see the beauty of the land and people though, my goal not being to cast judgment.

The "guesthouse/hostel" that we checked out turned out to be a stunning 1930 built historic small mansion, called Terraza Hostal. I think it was originally constructed for an executive at Bacardi Rum. The place was just beautiful, filled with paintings and memorabilia, only blocks from the main plaza in the historic core. We were greeted by the owner/manager, pleasant and welcoming. Although Santiago is big and busy with life, this place felt like a little oasis. High ceilings, roof deck with beautiful views, the bedrooms were gorgeously appointed with period features restored, antique furniture. My room itself was huge, ceilings maybe 20 feet high, AC worked well, historic tile floors and accent woodwork all around. My bathroom was private and really big, accessed through swinging doors reminiscent of days gone by. I loved the place and was shocked when the guy said it was only going to be $25. SOLD! I tossed down my bag, took a cold shower and smiled so big again. The location of this place was fantastic, right in the middle of everything. I was excited and wanted to explore. Urban street vibes, lots of colors and street noises.

I walked up to Plaza Cespedes, the main plaza in Santiago. Lots of musicians around, tour guides offering their services. I told them I had already had an adventure week in Baracoa, they decided quickly I wasn't a very good tour candidate. Whenever I arrive new to a larger city, I'm hyper aware of scammers, pickpockets. I sensed almost none of that vibe, locals told me that it was very safe here. I strolled down from the historic core through hilly neighborhoods filled with character, the sweeping bay down below, clearly deep water as I saw some larger ships and port activity. Quite hot outside, this is supposed to be the hottest city in Cuba, fortunately not the very hottest time of year. Walked along the waterfront, chatted with groups of kids, really cool classic cars all around here in Santiago. I did see more Westerners here, not a huge amount but noticeable. Explored the winding streets of this city, walked all the way up to the upper part of town, fading colonial architecture everywhere, pretty parks with the locals hanging out. Things are quieter on the street in the afternoon in the hottest part of the day, people tend to come out in more numbers later in the day as things cool down just a bit. I stopped into a grocery store, visible shortages and limited supply on the shelves. Even in this "egalitarian" country, it was clear that some people had more financial means than others.

I winded my way back down the hills and found my guesthouse, relaxed for awhile, took a cold beer up to the roof deck, sweeping views over the city. This owner is eclectic, all kinds of things around this place for decorations, some classic, some whimsical. The roof deck was loaded with plants and flowers, really peaceful place in this good sized city. The historic core had turned out to be very manageable. I liked Santiago but didn't love it, hard to compete with the beauty that was Baracoa 😊. One more night in the country, needed to make something out of it. Showered up in my humorously luxurious feeling room and wandered out, thinking I would find somewhere to eat down on the waterfront. Never made it there, a man stopped me on the street and told me about a rooftop cafe his cousin has, he led me there, down an alley, up some winding stairs and into the place, really pretty with views down over the bay. For all I know, the guys who took me there wasn't related to the owner at all, I didn't care. It was a cozy friendly place to eat form last night, had a big plate of prawns, rice and salad and a couple more beers.

Enjoyed walking through the pretty streets after dinner, definitely more life this time of day. Hung out in the plaza again for awhile, good live music group playing mostly for tourists. There was also a really pretty place called Hotel Casa Grande flanking the park, grand hotel I believe built in colonial times and renovated. They have a gorgeous outside restaurant/bar facing the plaza, I walked up and checked it out, looked like a perfect place for my final breakfast the next morning. Had thoughts of going out to more music but my cozy room sounded too good after all the walking of the day, in fact it seemed that the walking hadn't stopped all week. Hit my bed and slept well until morning, dreamy feeling in this big colonial room. I'd stay in this place again in a second, really loved it. Woke the next morning and had a proper breakfast at that hotel, tasty but no better than my meals in Baracoa.

And then, it was time to roll. A buddy of the guesthouse owner was headed up to Holguin and agreed to take me for a reasonable price. I packed up, hopped in the car. We curled through the charming streets of Santiago, hit the freeway leaving town, transitioned onto the road to Holguin. It was a pretty mellow ride, lots of rural scenery and farms, vendors on the side of the road. After an hour and a half or so, we passed the Mayari Rd. cutoff, seemed like forever since my first day when I excitedly was heading out that very road. It had only been 9 days but so many wonderful things had happened. Got closer to Holguin, took the circumference road bypass, then the road to the Hoguin Airport south of town. This truly activated my smiles, remembering the hitchhiking start to my journey. My driver dropped me off, I walked into the little airport, relaxed for a few hours and then hopped my flights back to Miami and then Seattle. Great, great trip!

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