Highs and Lows of Topes De Collantes

Bang on schedule, yet again it was 8am to get our bags onto coach.This time however, we were also boarding the bus rather than cycling.When we saw the roads we were going along, even the fit guys in the group were relieved that the first 20 km were on the coach.Up into the Escambray hills, at times the steep gradients even challenged the coach.The plus side to this slow progress upwards was the stunning views down to the coast and Trinidad far below us.At the top, at around 800m, the air is cool for the first time in days.We stop at a coffee shop that grows their own beans and order various versions of the hard core product - you can literally feel the caffeine hit.From a poster in Spanish, José reads out the story of how coffee was originally discovered in Ethiopia.I've always thought it was a bit suss that a monk would see a load of goats eating coffee beans, they would go all skittish and lively, so he thought he would try some too (ostensibly to help him stay awake to pray....but I have my doubts).

Finally we reach the start of our cycle ride at almost midday.Tired legs and the cloudless skies conspire against our route up the short hills and we are missing Alberto (by we, I mean me) who left the previous day and was cycling back from Trinidad all the way to Havana (around 370 km in 12 hours, which makes our 45 km per day seem a bit pathetic).At the top of the second hill, my legs are suddenly leaden and my hands are shaking.I stop and eat half an energy bar, which seems to have magical properties and immediately I feel much better (I realise that breakfast must have worn off and I'd been lacking sugar).We keep going and stop for lunch about half way to our destination in a park in the centre of a town called Manicaragua.A packed lunch from the hotel of cheese and ham doorstop sandwiches are tucked into with gusto (under normal circumstances you wouldn't bother with the bone dry offering, but needs must), similarly we wolf down bananas and drink some Tu Cola (the Cuban equivalent of coca cola).Energy levels restored we set of again, through towns and villages, often we are cheered and people wave; our lycra-clad, bike-helmeted party on 16 identical black Trek touring bikes seems to cause a stir.We generally wave and call back "hola!" and smile our way along the road.The smiles eventually fade though, when we turn off the main road for the climb up to the Hanabanilla Hotel.The final 8km of road is relentlessly uphill, the heat is brutal and at times as we slog up the hill there is no breeze, no shade and a constant river of sweat drips from brow into eyes, from hairline down your back and anywhere you might have a cleavage of any sort is not worth thinking about.We stop frequently now, guzzling water from our bottle and eeking out the remainder of the energy bar until finally we reach our destination.Built by Castro as a resort for Cubans, this is actually a lovely hotel that has rooms with views of the lake (or more accurately the reservoir).Virtually the whole group has the same idea and we congregate by the pool area for a well deserved dip and mojito (actually probably the best one we've had in Cuba - the barman measures out the rum, mixes it with the sugar, gently crushes the fresh mint and the finishing touch two precise drops of angostura bitters - delicious!).Chickens wander around between the loungers, Jon smokes a cigar and we relax knowing that we have no more cycling tomorrow.

We have a last meal as a group, a la carte is a welcome change from the ubiquitous Hotel Buffet and we thank José and Santos for their help during the last week.It's our last night with the group, we will leave them at Santa Clara and they will head back to Havana, whereas we will go onto our luxury break on Cayo Santa Maria.