Pinar del Rio Province

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Pinar del Rio

We left Trinidad, skirting around the Sierra Escambray to Manicaragua before heading north to Santa Clara - one of the largest cities in Cuba with a population around a quarter of a million. Our mission, however, was not to visit the city itself but the shrine to Ernesto ‘Che’ Guevara on its outskirts. Opened in 1988 to commemorate the thirtieth anniversary of the date Che took Santa Clara from the Batista army, a raised plaza with a 7m-high bronze of Che looks out over a vast square. Beneath the plaza is an interesting museum dedicated to the story of Che and his thirty-eight comrades killed in Bolivia in 1967. Next to this is a moving memorial chamber where the remains of seventeen fighters, including Che, are interred in niches in a simple stone wall, and an eternal flame burns on the floor. Lacking in pomp or ornamentation, one feels it is the kind of place that Che might have approved of.

“In a revolution one wins or dies,
if it is a real one.”
Che Guevara, 1965

From here a four and a half hour drive along the monotonous national highway brought us to the western suburb of Havana known as Miramar, and to the Occidental Miramar Hotel - a standard 4-star hotel that would stack up reasonably well against the competition anywhere in the world.

Lisa had a badly upset stomach all day and was feeling pretty awful by the evening, and I was beginning to feel a bit off myself. We decided to rest up and get an early night - missing a drink at the legendary Hemingway hangout, El Floridita, and dinner at the rather good Café del Oriente.

Thursday morning we left Havana along the attractive streets of Miramar, lined with villas that are now mainly embassies or ambassadorial residences. Ninety minutes later we crossed into Pinar del Rio province on the western-most peninsular of Cuba, and entered Las Terrazas, a UNESCO-sanctioned Biosphere Reserve.

It is a delightful area where scattered local subsistence farmers and charcoal-makers have been resettled into a model village set in idyllic surroundings. A major reforestation drive started in 1968 creating attractive hardwood forests interspersed with coconut and pine. Lakes and rivers and waterfalls create pleasant areas for Cuban and foreign visitors to while away the day. We took a walk through part of the village which houses 1,000 people in 243 families (85%!(NOVERB)are employed in the tourist business). We then visited the nearby Río San Juan with its rock pools for swimming and a pleasant bar where we had a drink overlooking the pretty swimming holes and the frolicking holidaymakers.

Lunch was at an old nineteenth century coffee plantation - there are ruins of over fifty of these scattered across the vicinity, originally built and run by French settlers of that period; coffee is still grown and processed in the hills but on a pretty small scale nowadays. Following lunch we took a tour of the coffee-processing area before checking into the Hotel Moka on the edge of the village - a very pleasant 26-room “eco-resort” with trees growing up through the roof in several places, and surrounded by lovely hardwood groves.

After a siesta, we met up for drinks in the small but welcoming bar just above the lobby before walking down to the village for the usual style of dinner in what seemed to be a stairwell between villagers’ apartments (which was not quite as bad as it sounds). Just four or five tables were arranged in this tiny area, but the customary musical combo serenaded us over dinner even here!

Having felt a bit under the weather the past day or so, I woke up Friday feeling pretty dreadful. We met up with Neil, Nina and David who had got up early to ride “The Canopy” - a fixed wire traverse stretching 800m around the grounds and over the lake, and then drove an hour and a half west along the Autopista Pinar del Rio before leaving the highway and heading into the hills and villages of Parque Nacional Viñales. We stopped on the way for one of the famous panoramas of the Valle de Viñales , edged with attractively shaped limestone hills, and later for a quick look at a tobacco-drying shed.

By now I was feeling decidedly unwell so we went to the Hotel, La Ermita, and checked in. Lisa stayed with me while the others went out for lunch and for a look around the area.

By 6pm when we saw Eldis I was ready to admit defeat and he took me to see a doctor in nearby Viñales town. The clinic was as you might expect in a communist state - a desultory mildew-covered 1960’s slab that probably hadn’t received one iota of maintenance since it was built, everything old and dilapidated, discarded dressings overflowing the rubbish bins, chaos inside, patients just hanging around the doctor’s open doorway waiting to be seen. Anyway, the doctor seemed efficient enough. It turned out I had a fever of 40°C/104°F - no wonder I felt so bad! The nurse gave me an injection of dipyrone (a moment’s hesitation about the needle, I must confess) and an hour later my temperature was down to 38°C. The doctor then examined me, concluded I had a virus, and prescribed appropriate pills and potions. Back at the hotel I crashed into a fairly delirious sleep.

I continued to feel awful all Saturday, and never moved from the room. Lisa stayed valiantly with me while the others had what sounded like an enjoyable three-hour walk through agricultural areas of the valley, and visited the Cueva del Indio, a rather touristy ancient indigenous cave dwelling.

Finally, by Sunday, I awoke feeling significantly better, and we left Viñales mid-morning to drive to Havana Airport for our five o’clock flight on Virgin Atlantic. With just one pit stop on the way we arrived in the early afternoon by which time I was feeling almost normal, thank god.

Talking at the airport we realised we were all actually looking forward to getting on the plane for the food! That really must be a first and is certainly a sad commentary on Cuban cuisine - which, it has to be said, is an oxymoron. Next ➤ ➤

Howard's Pinar del Rio Gallery at PBase

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