Flying in a weird amphibian microlight and a terrible long drive to Santiago de Cuba

Allie's version of DAY 103: Sunday, 27^th of May

Microlighting in Cuba!

A microlight flight above a reef and a tedious, muddy drive to Santiago de Cuba

Shouting guards in front of our cabin keep me awake from 3am on. Getting proper sleep really doesn’t seem to be in for me on these last weeks of our tour. But it’s a lovely morning with golden sunshine over the beach and I enjoy a nice swim. We arrive at breakfast really early at 8am (it’s running supposedly till 9.30) but we still find half of the buffet empty, no milk, no nothing. I think I have lost quite a bit of weight here in Cuba which I don’t mind. So maybe if you fancy a slimming tour you should drive around Cuba in a car and stay at local all-inclusive hotels!

Finally arriving at the beach

We have a short debate on how to play this day. Phil is tempted to try the microlight flight again which means to drive back to Guardalavaca. But there are several complications: we have promised Adolfo, the local Animator boy, a lift to Holguin; then our letter from the security guard hasn’t been prepared as promised to and the manager and the security guy are supposedly at a meeting in Holguin (how convenient not to be available if there is a problem!) and then I forget my earrings at the room. After all this hassle we are finally on the road back to Guardalava without a piece of paper, but with my earrings and with Adolfo in the back seat. He obviously doesn’t mind the huge detour because as he explains hitching from here to Holguin is a nightmare and takes at least 3 hours. There are no public busses, no trains, no nothing for the people to travel from A to B except standing beside the roads and hoping to get a lift with an ancient Lada or a tourist.

The crew prepares the microlight

By the time we get to G. (you know which place I mean by now), a huge storm suddenly appears from the middle of nowhere and the pilots tell us we have to wait. What a pain! We try to find some internet (because all the last places didn’t have any computer facilities) but we are told, it doesn’t work.

What DOES work in Cuba you ask yourself? How do people cope with all this crap? Anyway, the storm clears as quickly as it came and half an hour later Phil is up in the air with an Italian built floating microlight. To give you an idea on how it looks, I would describe it as a mixture between a paraglider, a rubber boat and an aeroplane. Can you imagine it now? But it flies really great and when Phil finished his flight after 10 minutes it was my turn. We took off right on next to the beach and flew out to the reef, past a posh sailing yacht and the beaches along shore. Stunning views across the azure blue water and the coastline. And the best of it: it felt really safe with that boat suspended underneath and flying above the water at only 100 feet. A great experience and I would certainly do it again.

my turn!!

We set off towards Santiago by 12.30, poor Adolfo having decided to get a lift otherwise. But whom do we find exactly at the junction to our hotel? Adolfo! He is happy to see us and we are glad that we can do him at least a little favour. We have a quite interesting discussion on the terrible situation of traffic and other shortages like food. 

Adolfo mentions that they get an allowance of  5 pounds per month but that’s even too little for some folks here. People love sugar and fat (that’s why they put so much butter on their plates!!). The other thing I ask is the money issue. The locals obviously at average only earn about 10 dollars or CUC a month. 

But if they want to buy special goods in the shops they have to convert their local pesos into CUCs at a rate of 25:1!! Most of the restaurants will accept the local pesos but in the shops you would have to pay in CUCs. That means that the government will provide all very basic and simple things in life at a very cheap rate but even if you want to buy imported good like ice cream, cookies or wine, you have to pay a lot of money.

and I am up and away!

I ask Adolfo about his job and family and he tells us, that his wife and two kids live in Bayamo, the city he is trying to get to today. He has been working as an Animator for 10 years (he’s 31) but only for 2months at this hotel and he doesn’t particularly like it. “The people don’t think commercial” he explains and hardly any of them speak foreign languages (his English being very good). He works 27 days and then gets 5 days off in which he travels back to Bayamo to see his family but the trip hitchhiking takes him the whole day – as we can see! Poor bugger! When we drop him in Holguin I feel really bad about not taking him all the way back to his family, but the direct road to Santiago goes the other way… or maybe not, as we find out later!

lost somewhere in Cuba

The road in the beginning is alright and we drive at around 100km/hr towards the south. But suddenly we see a strange turn with a road sign marked ‘Santiago’. The road looks rough and in not very good condition, but at least it’s still a tarmac road – well, for the next 10km. 

But then the road disappears into mud and dirt and we find ourselves completely lost in the middle of nowhere near the mountains. We ask some people along the road for Santiago and they point to even worse looking tracks. But what can we do? We have long lost track of where we are on our map. The road passes through little villages and gets worse and worse and worse. 

small towns with crumbling architecture

At one stage we think we have a puncture so bad are the potholes, but luckily the tires seem to be still alright. The starting rain doesn’t help and Phil has to manoeuvre through knee deep water and mud with me getting out of the car as a barefooted scout to test the depth of the water! What a nightmare! By that time I am completely fed up with Cuba and the whole system.

What a feeling to come out onto a four lane motorway after an hour of gruesome bumping and worrying! But our odyssey isn’t finished yet. Shortly before Santiago a police check point wants to stop us (but we ignore it knowing that their Ladas won’t be able to catch up with our car). And when we finally arrive at our chosen hotel called the ‘Balcón del Caribe’ which was described to us at a nice hotel with fantastic view over the sea, but we are told it’s full! At this stage I was near the point of explosion. 

In the end we are advised to go to another hotel called the ‘Versalles’. As it turns out this change of plan may even have been to our favour. The ‘Balcón del Caribe’ did indeed have great views across the Caribbean but it was also full of noisy Cubans and the ‘bungalows’ looked like they had come straight out of Moscow’s suburbs.

finally a view to the coast at Santiago!

Phil gets his compensation for a long tedious journey in discovering a rare aeroplane at the otherwise deserted Santiago airport whilst I am relieved to find the best pool in Cuba at our new hotel. At dinner – which is buffet and we indeed manage to get something to eat! – Phil and I have a little discussion. I suggested that we should ask how much dinner and drinks are, but Phil wanted to let things roll on believing that it might be another all-inclusive deal. Some things like the waiters asking for our room number and ‘offering’ us a second glass of wine indeed suggested that this might be another freebe but I still felt uneasy. You should always ask before you accept anything, at least that was the lesson I had learned over the years. What do you guess was the outcome of this story? Of course we had to pay – for everything, meal and drinks - and I had a big laugh!

Day 103/27 May

Phil posing with the captain

Our last chance to get the hotel management to support our car break-in report but, by strange co-incidence neither the hotel manager nor the security chief is available – they are at a (Sunday) meeting in Holguin.

We nevertheless offer a lift to Adolfo, the hotel’s  ‘animations’ person, who is faced with Cuban-style hitch-hiking to his family in Bayamo, only 100km away but up to 8 hours without public transport. We can only take him as far as Holguin and, because we now think a microlight flight may be possible, a detour to Guardalavaca. He is still delighted at the prospect and when we reach Guardalavaca he stands amongst the dozens of other Cuban hopefuls with their thumbs out. We promise to pick him up later if we see him en route, which of course we do.

 

And ready for take off

The microlight man is standing by but, despite a morning of cloudless skies a huge stormcloud rears out of the sea and forces a delay. It disappears equally miraculously only half an hour later when we return to the beach launch area. I fly first, then Allie. It is a really stimulating experience as we sweep over the reefs and boats at 50ft before a soft and short landing on the crystal-clear lagoon. As I wait for Allie to repeat the exercise I talk to a British bystander, from Kent, who is thinking about taking a flight. I encourage him, telling him the equipment is manufactured in Italy and Austria, and he is soon togged up in life-jacket and helmet ready to go.

 

there he goes

After dropping the re-collected Adolfo at Holguin we follow what looks like a straightforward route to Santiago only 100 or so km away to the south. Within half an hour the road deteriorates and, realising we must have missed a turning (though none was obvious) we take new roadside advice. 

‘Onward, onward’ insist all the locals we ask, but soon the wide road that became a rutted local byway had reduced to a barely identifiable farm track on which I have serious doubts about our Hyundai’s capabilities. Huge potholes restrict speed to less than 20kph and bigger and muddier ruts challenge the vehicle’s suspension and ground clearance. Now and then I send Allie ahead in bare feet to gauge the depth and firmness of the broader pools. It is too late to turn back so we press on and, near the eventual return to the main ‘carretera’ after 50km and a couple of hours of hellish driving a Russian-built 4WD driven in the opposite direction by a cheery Cuban actually stops us to ask if the route is passable.

 

beautiful old cars everywhere..

Approaching Santiago in more torrential rain on what passes for an Autopista two policemen leap from the verge and blow their whistles. 

It is much too late to stop safely and I’m sure I’m not breaking any Cuban rules (except perhaps that we ARE wearing seat belts and have the headlights on), so I continue knowing that the Police Ladas are unlikely to catch me even though I am only doing 80kph.

Our preferred hotel is ‘full’ (yesterday we rang to book but nobody answered) so another is suggested which turns out to be better standard though without the spectacular sea views. At dinner, a very spares ‘buffet’ laid, we suspect, because there is a small tour group staying, an excellent  guitar duo play for the scattering of diners. Their harmonies are superb and, whilst we are not usually the ‘play at your table’ types tonight we accede and pay a tip. My request is ‘Guantanamera’, which I have just guessed means, appropriately, ‘girl from Guantanamo’. Allie refuses to believe this until I get a confirmation from the singers.

...and so is propaganda