Travel Journal

As I approached the final hill on the fifth day of my cycling tour in Cuba, I couldn’t help but think of Che Guevara’s famous quote, “¡Hasta la Victoria Siempre!” (“Until Victory, Always!”). It wasn’t the biggest hill ever, but with the temperature at 38°C and 90% humidity, it felt like a mountain. I hadn’t been on a bike in ten years, so every gear shift seemed to make the end feel further away. The thought of a cool, crisp Crystal lager and a perfectly mixed mojito kept me pedalling until, finally, the hotel for the night appeared. Never had a Soviet-era square building looked so welcoming!

I had arrived in Cuba a week earlier, eager to see Havana again after a long gap. The city was much as I remembered, though it buzzed with anticipation as the US Embassy was set to open the next day. I stayed at the iconic National Hotel for a couple of nights, revisiting its lovely beer garden and the Churchill Bar to relive old memories.

The next morning, I set off for the old town, stopping by Plaza de la Revolución, where preparations were underway for Pope Francis’s visit. I then headed to the Capitolio building and, after some haggling, took a two-hour sightseeing tour in an open-top 1956 Chevy. It was great fun and a quintessential Cuban experience. The rest of the day was spent wandering through the old town, shopping, and people-watching. Though busier than before, Havana still retained its faded charm.

The real adventure began as I left the city for a cycling trip through the countryside. On the first day, we rode 15 km to a beach for a refreshing swim in the Caribbean Sea. After lunch, we visited the Bay of Pigs and its museum, which commemorates the Cuban victory against CIA-backed mercenaries. The Cubans are fiercely proud, and the museum’s stirring displays reflect this.

We then boarded a bus for a short drive to Cienfuegos, a town settled by the French and now a UNESCO World Heritage site. The bus, actually a coach with one side of seats removed to accommodate bikes, was an ingenious mode of transport. Our hotel, a 1950s American-style establishment, had once belonged to the brother of deposed President Batista. Next door was a Moorish palace from the 1920s, now serving as the hotel’s dining room.

Day two was tough, with 60 km of hills in 35°C heat and high humidity. I soon realized that some training beforehand would have been wise. I learned new words that day: “updulating” and “downdulating,” though there was too little of the latter for my liking. Thankfully, our beachside accommodation provided a great setting to recover. That evening, the bar was lively with locals, and we joined in the Saturday night festivities.

On day three, a short 20 km ride took us to Trinidad, the second most visited place in Cuba. Its historic centre, another UNESCO site, has remained largely unchanged since the 1700s. We stayed in “casas particulares” – homestays – for the next two nights. These homes had extra rooms and roof terraces to accommodate tourists, offering a charming and authentic experience. That evening, we dined in a nearby fishing village and then returned to town for more dancing, though rain eventually stopped the fun.

Day four was a free day with various options. Most opted for a catamaran trip to a nearby island, but another cyclist and I choose an 18 km ride to a local estancia for lunch. The downhill ride was pleasant, but the uphill return was a challenge. Nevertheless, we soon found ourselves back in town, enjoying cold beers in the square. That night, we had a group meal at the casa headquarters, which was probably the best meal of the trip, even if the menu was familiar: pork, chicken, beef, or fish.

The fifth day marked the last of our cycling, ending with a well-deserved swim and dinner at a local house. The meals at these “paladares” were excellent and reasonably priced, with great hospitality making up for the limited choices.

On the final day, we visited the Che Guevara shrine in Santa Clara. Though Che was shot in Bolivia in 1967, his remains were brought back to Cuba in 1997. The shrine, tastefully done, includes a fascinating museum about Che’s life. We then returned to Havana via a nearly deserted freeway for a quick tour of the new town before our final meal in the old town. Our guide couldn’t join us for the farewell dinner, so I took on the role and hoped I didn’t disappoint. We ended the night touring Havana’s famous bars, including La Bodeguita and El Floridita, before a final look at the city from the rooftop bar of the Hotel Inglaterra.

My time in Cuba felt special, coinciding with the raising of the American flag over the new US Embassy and the anticipation of Pope Francis’s visit. Raul Castro was set to resign soon, with his deputy to rule until the first free elections. Although change was in the air, Cuba’s pace remained slow, and its future, though promising, seemed set to unfold gradually.