We have loosely organized transport to Viñales through Carlos, the owner of the Airbnb we will stay at when we return to Havana. I say loosely because we’ve had trouble confirming the transfer and our day of travel is coinciding with a national parade to honor the late Fidel Castro. Apparently, the city will come to a standstill later today.
At around 9am, we head down to the corner outside our apartment in Vedado and wait. We have no idea who we are waiting for and when they may show up…but about 15 minutes later, a guy driving a neon orange sports car careens around the corner of 12th, waving at us. There is no mistaking this is our guy. He pulls over in a nearby driveway, gets out and introduces himself as Louis, as he throws our backpacks into the small trunk.
As we get into the car and reverse out the driveway, Louis begins to renegotiate the cost of the drive that we tried to confirm with Carlos yesterday. “It’s a holiday…It’s very far…” Louis explains. We reconfirm the price and I wonder if travel will be like this throughout the trip. As we reach the city outskirts, I decide I’m not going to worry about this.
Literally less than 10 minutes into the drive, I feel like I’m witnessing the authentic Cuba I had so hoped to see. It’s here and it’s everywhere once you get out the confines of the city. Undeveloped land surrounds us on both sides of the autopista, which is potted with deep potholes Louis aggressively tries to avoid.
We pass classic cars, people on horseback, horse & buggies, work trucks transporting large groups of people, tour buses and bicyclists. Louis chastises everyone who drives faster than him and then puts his foot down so hard the speedometer needle is hovering around 120 km/hr. I try to get comfortable in the back, but we’re either dodging tour buses or ingesting fumes from the classic cars in front of us.
Two hours later, we exit the highway and begin a long journey along an even shittier road to Viñales. Colorful houses line the roads, and laundry hangs in almost every front yard. A few propaganda signs sit at intersections and roundabouts – those paying tribute to Fidel or mocking the US government.
We begin climbing a winding road surrounded on either side by dense forest. On the descent, Louis tells us we’ll be arriving soon.
As we make our way up the main street which seems to mark the entry and exit to the city, I know I will like Viñales. It’s night and day from the bustling crowds of Havana.
Louis winds his window down and stops a few people in the street to ask for directions. We’ve been told by our contact on Airbnb that many people in Cuba don’t know “dresses” and will invite you to stay in their casa, so she has sent us directions to go past the church and turn left after the clinico. We manage to find the correct street and a lady standing on a pink balcony on the second floor of a small apartment complex sees us and comes down to retrieve us.
We are staying in a small room at Casa Izzy, which sits off to the side of a small living room and kitchenette. Just outside the door is an identical space to ours where Barbara, the manager, and her family live. Barbara gives us a tour of the casa and shows us our room, which is bright and white, has two full beds and an en suite bathroom. She shows us where breakfast will be served and gives us a book full of activities we can partake in while here. We sign up for a 15 CUC horeback riding tour for the following day and head out to explore Viñales.
We walk down the main street, Calle Salvador Cisneros, past the church which seems to be where everyone congregates and head down a dirt road that eventually leads to farmland and horse pastures. We wander for a little bit, soaking in the peacefulness of this place before looping back to town.
We head to La Colonial for a couple of cold beers and then explore the local market, which is full of trinkets – shell jewelry, Che Guevara souvenirs, matchbox classic cars and kids toys made from coconut shells. We venture down a side street and stop to watch a group of men who are playing a game of dominoes in the last slivers of daylight.
We find a Mediterranean restaurant where a line is beginning to form, take this as a good sign, and join the line. Cuban food is good, but one meal without rice and meat will be welcomed. We order risotto and cannelloni and split a bottle of passable wine.
After dinner, the sleepiness of Viñales is getting its hold on us. After our crazy Havana nights, we welcome a chill evening. We head back to Casa Izzy, confirm our morning pick up for horseback riding and before Christy has even finished brushing her teeth, I am well away.