No luxury resorts - yes to shitty cities!

Lolomiina: 04.06.2019

We are still in Vinales and want to go to the neighboring and less touristy fishing village of Puerto Esperanza, of course using the same means of transportation as the locals. After waiting 1.5 hours for a cheap shared taxi, our hope is dwindling and we are not the only ones waiting. Luckily, a bus shows up. The three of us can ride very cheaply (6 CUP). At an intersection 5 km before our destination, the bus unexpectedly stops - final stop. Jakob is ready to walk under the scorching sun, but then a truck stops right in front of us. All Cubans climb over the wide wheels onto the loading platform and help us lift the big backpacks. To not fall overboard, we have to hold on tight during the shaky ride; the fresh wind and the green landscape improve our mood. Arriving at the accommodation in Puerto Esperanza, we have breakfast, and Ida and Miriam don't say no to it, enjoying the change of sitting at a fully loaded table and eating eggs, bread, fruit, juice, coffee with milk, and coconut and guava jam. A successful change from the often greasy white bread with tortilla.

Breakfast!

People in Puerto Esperanza are extremely open and friendly, we are approached almost at every street corner, often by drunks - it's Sunday in Cuba. We are invited to a birthday party in front of a house. The company is already a bit drunk and the meat stew is not an option for us vegetarians, so we watch the people playing dominoes,

before we say goodbye again. As beautiful as the people are, Esperanza is dirty, especially the beach, and often sewage flows from broken hoses, gray-white across the road into the roadside ditch, and the sea is turbid with algae and garbage.
From Puerto Esperanza, we take the local bus, which drops us off at an intersection in the middle of nowhere. Today we are lucky - thanks also to the helpfulness of the people: we sit on loose plastic stools on the bed of a pickup truck. The beautiful landscape passes by us and we chat with the other passengers. When we ask how much the ride costs, it is vehemently waved off. We feel energized. We find a truck that has been converted into a bus with planks serving as benches. It will take us to Bahia Honda in 4 hours, and Jakob has to stand due to lack of space. We find our accommodation by the sea, and in search of cheap food, we find it in a motel. We get coleslaw and a ready-to-drink, which we gaze at in disbelief, unable to do anything other than laugh. And even the ice-cold waitress in fishnet stockings has to smile.

Best dinner in the world!

One day we set out to look for the non-touristy beach 'La Altura' (take the bus to Cayetano), where we hitch a ride on a truck and walk the remaining 3 km. And they are already getting too close to us. In swarms, they bite through the long clothes and are almost impossible to shake off even with mosquito repellent. Once we arrive at the beach, we flee into the water where they leave us alone for a moment. The beach is white, kilometers long, made up of small shells, and belongs to us alone. But as soon as the sun disappears, the mosquitoes return with renewed strength and it is almost unbearable. So we eat our rice and beans in the tent with three people. It won't be the most restful night: we are protected from mosquitoes, but smaller sand flies get through the inner tent. They can bite and each bite stings and itches. Our hands are unprotected, and as soon as we put on long clothes, we sweat and get hot flushes. The next day and in the morning, we jump into the soothing sea with all the mosquito bites. In addition, Ida hardly slept on the hard mattresses. At the nearby campground, only Cubans are allowed to vacation, and there we get delicious cream cheese rolls for breakfast and spend the morning relaxed on the beach. When it starts raining, we pack up and start looking for a way back to Bahia Honda. At the beach, we run into an American with a Cuban wife who is celebrating his birthday there with his family. The talkative and slightly tipsy man is happy to be able to chat with us in English and insists on driving us back to the city in his car driven by his nephew. Still early in the day, we take a chicken bus to Havana from the terminal. The woman at the terminal is super nice and lets us get on first, which makes some Cubans angry and they start hurling abuses at her. She tries to calm them down and explains that we have to travel a long way to get to Havana and that we can put the backpacks on our laps. The mood in the bus has calmed down again and the people are more helpful. In the evening, everything comes together: sleep-deprived and covered in mosquito bites, after over 5 hours of travel, it's already dark, it starts raining, we don't have accommodation and can't find any, we are hungry, we are looking for internet, but at first we can't find a good internet connection and then we accidentally book two accommodations at once. We start arguing a little.

People in Puerto Esperanza are extremely open and friendly, we are approached almost at every street corner, often by drunks - it's Sunday in Cuba. We are invited to a birthday party in front of a house. The company is already a bit drunk and the meat stew is not an option for us vegetarians, so we watch the people playing dominoes,

before we say goodbye again. As beautiful as the people are, Esperanza is dirty, especially the beach, and often sewage flows from broken hoses, gray-white across the road into the roadside ditch, and the sea is turbid with algae and garbage.
From Puerto Esperanza, we take the local bus, which drops us off at an intersection in the middle of nowhere. Today we are lucky - thanks also to the helpfulness of the people: we sit on loose plastic stools on the bed of a pickup truck. The beautiful landscape passes by us and we chat with the other passengers. When we ask how much the ride costs, it is vehemently waved off. We feel energized. We find a truck that has been converted into a bus with planks serving as benches. It will take us to Bahia Honda in 4 hours, and Jakob has to stand due to lack of space. We find our accommodation by the sea, and in search of cheap food, we find it in a motel. We get coleslaw and a ready-to-drink, which we gaze at in disbelief, unable to do anything other than laugh. And even the ice-cold waitress in fishnet stockings has to smile.

Best dinner in the world!

One day we set out to look for the non-touristy beach 'La Altura' (take the bus to Cayetano), where we hitch a ride on a truck and walk the remaining 3 km. And they are already getting too close to us. In swarms, they bite through the long clothes and are almost impossible to shake off even with mosquito repellent. Once we arrive at the beach, we flee into the water where they leave us alone for a moment. The beach is white, kilometers long, made up of small shells, and belongs to us alone. But as soon as the sun disappears, the mosquitoes return with renewed strength and it is almost unbearable. So we eat our rice and beans in the tent with three people. It won't be the most restful night: we are protected from mosquitoes, but smaller sand flies get through the inner tent. They can bite and each bite stings and itches. Our hands are unprotected, and as soon as we put on long clothes, we sweat and get hot flushes. The next day and in the morning, we jump into the soothing sea with all the mosquito bites. In addition, Ida hardly slept on the hard mattresses. At the nearby campground, only Cubans are allowed to vacation, and there we get delicious cream cheese rolls for breakfast and spend the morning relaxed on the beach. When it starts raining, we pack up and start looking for a way back to Bahia Honda. At the beach, we run into an American with a Cuban wife who is celebrating his birthday there with his family. The talkative and slightly tipsy man is happy to be able to chat with us in English and insists on driving us back to the city in his car driven by his nephew. Still early in the day, we take a chicken bus to Havana from the terminal. The woman at the terminal is super nice and lets us get on first, which makes some Cubans angry and they start hurling abuses at her. She tries to calm them down and explains that we have to travel a long way to get to Havana and that we can put the backpacks on our laps. The mood in the bus has calmed down again and the people are more helpful. In the evening, everything comes together: sleep-deprived and covered in mosquito bites, after over 5 hours of travel, it's already dark, it starts raining, we don't have accommodation and can't find any, we are hungry, we are looking for internet, but at first we can't find a good internet connection and then we accidentally book two accommodations at once. We start arguing a little.

But then we let ourselves enjoy the next 5 days in Havana, drink mojitos or pina coladas in the afternoons, watch a football match one evening, and stroll through the different neighborhoods of Havana. Ida takes salsa lessons for a day, while Jakob and Miriam pass. There is pizza and fresh juice every day, and on the last day, we are glad that it was the last pizza with ketchup stains. We sit in the setting sun on the Malecon, try a Cuban cigar that we don't like at all. A man tells us that we bought bad cigars. Elsewhere, we are told that they are good local cigars. Whatever the case may be - we enjoy the last evening in Cuba, which is also the last evening with Ida. We were very happy about her visit and had beautiful and exciting weeks together. A man our age joins us on the Malecon, and we have a nice and lively conversation with a local. It's nice that he just wanted to talk to us out of interest, as many people naturally want to sell something when they talk to us. Surprisingly, the majority of people simply spoke to us out of interest, especially outside of Havana.
Now the USA is in front of our door, we are excited, curious and preparing for a culture shock.