Viñales, Cuba

After 1 week in Habana I “finally” managed to proceed. By “finally” I do not mean to imply a discontent with the amount of time spent in this magical city. Quite the opposite, at the time of departure I was just starting to feel at home. However, I mean to convey a feeling that my time in Cuba is racing by very fast and there remain so many things left to do, hence my decision to continue on with my travels.

The bus door of the Viazul tourist bus opens (foreigners are restricted to travel in designated air-conditioned buses for which they have to pay in dollars, while Cubans are stuck waiting for hours for a bus that may or may not show up for Cuban pesos – a fraction of the price), and I am overwhelmed by the huddle of women awaiting and storming towards me. Holding up posters with pictures of their houses, they are all trying to convince me to stay with them. The prior night without sleep leaves me a bit overwhelmed and I decide to leave the huddle and sit down on a nearby bench. But without success a certain fraction of the crowed follows me. I am left no choice; I simply pick one of the offers that sound reasonable, collect my luggage and leave the crowd behind me, which continues to fight for the remaining tourists. Low season has begun in Cuba and there is obviously a large excess supply of rooms with owners eager to fill them. The government charges these “casas particulares” a fixed monthly fee regardless of whether or not the room is filled. Despite the fact that the majority of the rent proceeds go to the government many people are eager to accept the challenge because it is one of the few (legal) ways to earn a few dollars.

It turns out that I could not have chose a better family to stay, the house is lovely, the room spacious, the owners amazingly friendly and it turns out that the room rent includes “free” salsa lessons.

Surprisingly, the rhythm of life in Viñales (population 15000) is not all that different from La Habana. Sure, everything is on a much smaller scale and everybody knows each other. People are similarly relaxed, have all the time in the world, joke, laugh and try to get things down the Cuban way.

I sense that I have found yet another place where I feel extremely comfortable. How could you not, hiking through one of the most amazing landscapes imaginable (luscious green vegetation, home to the world’s best tobacco harvest, sharply contrasted against rocky cliffs sticking out of the ground and surrounded by red earth), making friends and joking with the locals and dancing salsa at night (which features some of the best dancers I have ever seen).