Have Map - Will Travel

This morning we were about to branch out as truly independent travellers off to the West of Havana, into the countryside in a trusty hire car. Said rental took the form of a rather dull and grubby white Kia, with the redeeming merits of power steering, air con and even a CD player (I knew it was worth buying those CDs that the groups were selling in the restaurants!). Armed with a map we'd bought at the concierge, I was feeling the pressure of being the navigator as we made our way through Havana, back past Revolution Square and on out of the city along a dual carriageway. The first thing to understand is that you can't rely on signposts to guide you, we had a mini hiccup when I missed the turn off (if there was any signpost, it had to have been of homeopathic proportions). When I saw a sign for the Havana Golf Club I knew we'd gone too far and quickly 'fessed up' to my error. Back along the road, I was confident now of which was the road I'd missed, sure enough it was actually sign-posted when we went along from this direction. The loop took us onto the bridge over the road, my confidence now building. An overpass was up ahead, "take the exit immediately afterwards" I confidently pronounced. To Jon's eternal credit, despite the fact there was no sign post that this was the start of the main Autopista (motorway) out of Havana, the slip road was only partially surfaced and groups of people hanging around either side of the road, he took my guidance and I kept my doubts to myself. The relief in the air was palpable, when we came across the first exit that was marked on my map - yes we were indeed on the motorway (apparently homeopathic signs for finding the motorway are the norm here). The absence of SatNavs means that the old fashioned art of map reading is still an essential skill. We cruised along the 75km, listening to the sounds of Cuban music, virtually the only traffic on the road are trucks filled to bursting with hitch-hikers, similarly open-backed jeeps are chokka-block. The only other shamefully empty cars are the red number-plated rentals like ours, too scared to pick up the people patiently waiting for a lift (dire warnings from our Lonely Planet book ring in our ears, but I can't help but feel guilty that we don't do our bit to help those getting from A to B). Finally, we count down the kilometres and we spot the sign for Las Terrazas and take the exit. Following the road to the Hotel Moka, we are waved through the gated entrance to the national park, and arrive at our destination for the night. The setting is lovely, if rather sombre. The rooms would also be lovely, they are well designed in layout, but a damp and mouldy smell fills your nostrils when you enter the room, the sheets are damp to touch and Jon's oft repeated refrain while we are there sums it up "It's nice here, but I'm glad we're only staying one night". Dinner at the superb El Romero, home-grown restaurant was almost good enough to convince us that we could go veggie (almost, but not quite) and coffee from Maria's cafe, where the beans are grown within touching distance from the patio was our first good cup of coffee in Cuba. Both of these alone made Las Terrazas a worthwhile stopping point.

Zippeddeedoodaa

Truth be told, it wasn't the National park, the beautiful countryside or any other laudible reason that attracted us to the area. It was the childish adrenaline junkie that still lurks within me that made me suggest that we stay here. The 'Canopy Tour' as it is rather dully named is actually 3 lots of zip-wires that traverse the river and provide over 800m of zipped flying experience. For 15 CUC each, we were kitted out in harnesses that will be all that prevents us from dropping from a dizzying height into the murky waters below. Oversized suede gloves cover your hands, with any extra patch of fabric on your braking hand (basically you're supposed to put your hand on the wire behind your head and gently control your speed). It didn't quite work like that for me, I tried putting my hand on the wire, but couldn't keep it there. I raced faster and faster towards to tower at the other side of the river. Fortunately the guide is well used to this failure to brake and has a buffer that rapidly slows you. Once I'd discovered this fact, I went for the full adrenaline experience in the next 2 descents and didn't even try to brake. The longest one was around 350m, and you can reach speeds of 30-40 km/hr. Yeeeee - Haaaaa. The one downside of being in Las Terrazas (and I suspect it will be similar elsewhere in Cuba) is that you are virtually unable to undertake any kind of activity alone. We may well have enjoyed going for a hike in the surrounding countryside that afternoon, but whatever you do, it has to be done with a guide. As Jon quietly remarked to me later "you can't fart around here without a guide"

Most surreal moment of the day:

Queuing up behind Trigger for a pancake at breakfast... and he likes maple syrup too. A table of about 10 British actors at the next table to us, including Trigger... Yes, I'm proud to say that we resisted the urge to say "Alright Dave"