Once the car is warmed up she doesn’t tend to give us any more agro; except for the minimal clutch, the fierce brake and of course the fact that you are changing gear with you right hand. So once we had warmed her up we continued along the coast road; although ‘road’ may be a bit of an exaggeration. The scenery along this coast is spectacular but the road itself got steadily worst the further along we went.
There is an 'all inclusive resort' further along the road which we intended to stop at for a break except that, as it turns out, it was only about 20 minutes along the road; but we stopped and popped in there to have a look. It seemed to be a fairly nice
complex with far more guests than the place we had stayed at who all appeared to be aged Canadians and Germans. The beach was much more sun-bather friendly than the one we had had, with a great expanse of black sand and rock free entry into the sea, but not so ‘moodily pretty’. We were not expecting to find another refreshment stop for some time so we went and parked ourselves on a couple of sun beds and soaked up the rays before going to the bar and enjoying a glass of orange drink.
The road is slowly disintegrating from the punishment of the hurricanes as they hit the land and the lack of any visible maintenance programme. The first diversion came when we had to cross a dry river bed. The bridge was unsafe as one of the supporting ‘legs’ was collapsing so we had to drive down and across the river bed, luckily it is the dry season and there was no water.
We had at least two more detours because most of the road had disappeared into the sea! The ride was bone shaking and a little scary in places. We stopped for lunch at a Cuban camping ground. The weather had changed from beautifully sunny to overcast and had even started to rain. We were the only foreigners in sight and, at getting on for three in the afternoon, only just in time to order before the kitchen closed. We generally prefer to have our main meal in the evening and just a snack at lunchtime but the restaurant here only served ‘cooked meals’, no snacks in sight; and so we ordered chicken and rice with a side salad as it was unlikely that we would get anything else until we booked into somewhere for the night. The food took an absolute age to arrive and we were just about to either create a fuss of just leave that it turned up. The chicken and rice were good but the side salad consisted of a plate of beetroot. I enquired with my limited Spanish, ‘is this the salad?’ and was told ‘yes, that’s it!’ By this time we were both feeling ‘tetchy’ from low blood sugar and impatience at this unnecessary delay; but we ate what was given and complained by not leaving a tip; we simply paid the bill and left.
We picked up and dropped off passenger after passenger and they went from one village to the next. We had made a conscious decision to only pick up females but at one point we made the bad decision to allow an older guy, with rum on his breath, into the back seat and we couldn’t shut him up; it became very tiresome when added to the hard work of driving on this road and we both just wanted to shout 'shut up' but politeness forbade this. We had planned to spend the night of Sunday the 14th at another point further along the coast and when we came to the
village that we expected it to be in we still had matey with us. He insisted that the place we wanted was further out of the village and although we were very sceptical he proved to be telling the truth. Even when we had pulled up to enquire we still couldn’t get rid of him so leaving Paul in the car I went up to enquire about accommodation, unfortunately, it being the day of love on the entire Christian parts of the planet, but there was no room at this inn. We knew that there was a four star place up the road so we reluctantly went there instead. We couldn’t work out where this guy wanted to go so just assumed he would let us know when he wanted to get out but when we got to this all inclusive hotel we really had had enough of him. He then tried to get us to tip him possibly believing that we hadn’t known this place was here, however, we had only picked him up to do him a favour so almost ready to scream at him we requested that the gateman get him out of our car and think himself lucky that we didn’t charge him for the ride.
We really only wanted a bed for the night, some dinner and breakfast the next day and we decided that we were not prepared to pay their ridiculous price of $120 cuc a night, were unable to cut a deal, and so decided to carry on to Santiago De Cuba, another couple of hours up the road.
Our final passengers of the day were a young girl and her even younger brother entrusted to us, presumably by an older female relative, who first asked how far we were going. As soon as we told her ‘Santiago de Cuba’ and took these two youngsters on board we were committed to driving the whole way; but it was not the distance that was the problem, it was the state of the road. The numerous potholes made the journey both painful and slow and as the day started to turn into night we had to contend with obstacles such as unlit and even slower moving horse drawn carts. At one point we came to a junction and would have taken the wrong turning had it not been for our young charges pointing us in the right direction, I had not seen any signpost as all of my concentration was on the road.
It eventually became obvious that we had reached the big, bad city and I was directed to stop by the older of the two to let them out. As we were saying goodbye Paul suggested that it would be a good idea to ask them if they knew of any Casa Particulars. She did, of course, and commenced to give me the directions, however, instead of saying ‘second right’ or ‘fourth left’, Spanish words I understand, the instructions she gave were more complicated and, as a result, incomprehensible to me. Taking pity on us, she offered to take us to a place she knew of and took us right to the door. I offered to drive to the spot where they had originally asked to be dropped but she declined and they both got out and walked away.
As I rang the doorbell I was dismayed to note that the front on the house, at ground-floor level, was protected by ornate railings and that the gate was secured by heavy chains and a large padlock. We the female owner opened her front door she weighed up the situation before unlocking the fortress to let me in. The house looked very comfortable from where I was standing but I soon got the message that there was no room at the inn; but in true Cuban style, this owner knew a friend with a Casa Particular that did have room. She made a phone call and then intimated that the Casa was only a short distance away and that the female host was on her way round. In fact two females turned up, we all thanked the first lady then we drove them back to their house.
The female host was very friendly and spoke reasonably good English; her day job was on the souvenir counter of the big hotel just up the road. As we entered the house we had to go through the family’s main living room; this was a tad uncomfortable as there were a handful of people sitting watching the television. Then she took us up, I was going to say a 
staircase but I think ‘ladder’ would be nearer the truth then across an equally narrow landing back to the front of the house. The bathroom was tiny with the power of the light and the shower coming from the same circuit. As mentioned before, there are few windows in Cuba that have glass in them and this one was no different; the road outside seemed to be very busy and, consequently, noisy. 
We both looked at each other, but again, neither of us had the heart to tell her that her accommodation was unsatisfactory; it was getting late and we were both very tired, we were only staying for one night so -we put up with it.
We hadn’t planned to spend any nights in this city while in possession of the car; one of the reasons for not wanting to go all the way to Santiago De Cuba was the car, and her wheels in particular, because we had been warned by our hosts in Cienfuegos that this city was not the safest in Cuba; but, we were informed by our present host that, for just $1cuc, a neighbour will keep an eye on it and that she had already arranged this for us.
All the evening meals we have been offered so far in either Casa’s or Paladares have been chicken (always a leg), pork steak, fish or lobster with white rice, black beans and mixed salad. The meat/fish part is usually cooked in the same way, which is nice but is starting to get really boring and it is generally far, far too salty. The rice is OK when not too salty and the salads range from a plate of one type of vegetable ie; beetroot (as earlier today) or tomato to a plate with tomato, cucumber, cooked cold French beans, shredded white cabbage, either raw grated carrot or cooked cold sliced carrot and beetroot. The trouble is you never know what you are going to get when salad is offered until it arrives at the table. Tonight we really wanted something different, particularly as we had had fried chicken, rice & black beans with beetroot as the salad at lunch time, so we headed for the nearest big hotel where we had been told we could get pizza.
We found the hotel quiet easily from the directions we had been given but decided to call into one of the establishments the local use for a beer and very soon after we were served we were joined by an older gentleman, already quiet merry! Conversation was difficult and after establishing where we were from he proceeded to tell us, I lost count of how many times, that he had fought in the Angolan war at the rank of colonel. Coincidentally, the chap that we had in the car earlier, the one that determined us never to pick up another male hitchhiker, had also fought in the Angolan War. The three of us were also joined by another local whose English was a little better and we asked him if he could recommend somewhere to eat, somewhere that a ‘local’ would choose. Straight away he took the task in hand and marched us away from our colonel and straight to the house of someone who he thought would cook us a meal. Neither of us wanted a full meal and we were relieved that the ‘cook’ considered it too late to start cooking for us. On the way we had passed an area full of young romancing couples with music blaring and a stage set up so there was either going to be a live band or there had been a live band and eventually managed to persuade our new guide that we would find something to eat here as we had spied one of the fast food options that we had seen in other parts of Cuba; spit roasted pork, shredded (in front of you) then popped into a roll with a large pinch of salt. We had wanted to try something different and were really only looking for a snack so decided to take our place in the queue and when we got it it actually tasted pretty OK! Not great but it was different and good if only for that reason; especially when washed down with a can of Buccanero one of the Cuban beers. We continued to people watch until one of us, me actually, could no longer cope and needed my bed. Although it was good to lie down and the place was quiet(ish) at that time of night except for the barking dogs, it had to be getting on for 11 or 12 o’clock there was always that worry that the wheels would be missing the next morning. Santiago De Cuba is really busy city, the capital city prior to Havana, and the city wakes very early which was ok as we wanted to be off early anyway.
village that we expected it to be in we still had matey with us. He insisted that the place we wanted was further out of the village and although we were very sceptical he proved to be telling the truth. Even when we had pulled up to enquire we still couldn’t get rid of him so leaving Paul in the car I went up to enquire about accommodation, unfortunately, it being the day of love on the entire Christian parts of the planet, but there was no room at this inn. We knew that there was a four star place up the road so we reluctantly went there instead. We couldn’t work out where this guy wanted to go so just assumed he would let us know when he wanted to get out but when we got to this all inclusive hotel we really had had enough of him. He then tried to get us to tip him possibly believing that we hadn’t known this place was here, however, we had only picked him up to do him a favour so almost ready to scream at him we requested that the gateman get him out of our car and think himself lucky that we didn’t charge him for the ride.We really only wanted a bed for the night, some dinner and breakfast the next day and we decided that we were not prepared to pay their ridiculous price of $120 cuc a night, were unable to cut a deal, and so decided to carry on to Santiago De Cuba, another couple of hours up the road.
Our final passengers of the day were a young girl and her even younger brother entrusted to us, presumably by an older female relative, who first asked how far we were going. As soon as we told her ‘Santiago de Cuba’ and took these two youngsters on board we were committed to driving the whole way; but it was not the distance that was the problem, it was the state of the road. The numerous potholes made the journey both painful and slow and as the day started to turn into night we had to contend with obstacles such as unlit and even slower moving horse drawn carts. At one point we came to a junction and would have taken the wrong turning had it not been for our young charges pointing us in the right direction, I had not seen any signpost as all of my concentration was on the road.
It eventually became obvious that we had reached the big, bad city and I was directed to stop by the older of the two to let them out. As we were saying goodbye Paul suggested that it would be a good idea to ask them if they knew of any Casa Particulars. She did, of course, and commenced to give me the directions, however, instead of saying ‘second right’ or ‘fourth left’, Spanish words I understand, the instructions she gave were more complicated and, as a result, incomprehensible to me. Taking pity on us, she offered to take us to a place she knew of and took us right to the door. I offered to drive to the spot where they had originally asked to be dropped but she declined and they both got out and walked away.
As I rang the doorbell I was dismayed to note that the front on the house, at ground-floor level, was protected by ornate railings and that the gate was secured by heavy chains and a large padlock. We the female owner opened her front door she weighed up the situation before unlocking the fortress to let me in. The house looked very comfortable from where I was standing but I soon got the message that there was no room at the inn; but in true Cuban style, this owner knew a friend with a Casa Particular that did have room. She made a phone call and then intimated that the Casa was only a short distance away and that the female host was on her way round. In fact two females turned up, we all thanked the first lady then we drove them back to their house.
The female host was very friendly and spoke reasonably good English; her day job was on the souvenir counter of the big hotel just up the road. As we entered the house we had to go through the family’s main living room; this was a tad uncomfortable as there were a handful of people sitting watching the television. Then she took us up, I was going to say a 
staircase but I think ‘ladder’ would be nearer the truth then across an equally narrow landing back to the front of the house. The bathroom was tiny with the power of the light and the shower coming from the same circuit. As mentioned before, there are few windows in Cuba that have glass in them and this one was no different; the road outside seemed to be very busy and, consequently, noisy. 
We both looked at each other, but again, neither of us had the heart to tell her that her accommodation was unsatisfactory; it was getting late and we were both very tired, we were only staying for one night so -we put up with it.We hadn’t planned to spend any nights in this city while in possession of the car; one of the reasons for not wanting to go all the way to Santiago De Cuba was the car, and her wheels in particular, because we had been warned by our hosts in Cienfuegos that this city was not the safest in Cuba; but, we were informed by our present host that, for just $1cuc, a neighbour will keep an eye on it and that she had already arranged this for us.
All the evening meals we have been offered so far in either Casa’s or Paladares have been chicken (always a leg), pork steak, fish or lobster with white rice, black beans and mixed salad. The meat/fish part is usually cooked in the same way, which is nice but is starting to get really boring and it is generally far, far too salty. The rice is OK when not too salty and the salads range from a plate of one type of vegetable ie; beetroot (as earlier today) or tomato to a plate with tomato, cucumber, cooked cold French beans, shredded white cabbage, either raw grated carrot or cooked cold sliced carrot and beetroot. The trouble is you never know what you are going to get when salad is offered until it arrives at the table. Tonight we really wanted something different, particularly as we had had fried chicken, rice & black beans with beetroot as the salad at lunch time, so we headed for the nearest big hotel where we had been told we could get pizza.
We found the hotel quiet easily from the directions we had been given but decided to call into one of the establishments the local use for a beer and very soon after we were served we were joined by an older gentleman, already quiet merry! Conversation was difficult and after establishing where we were from he proceeded to tell us, I lost count of how many times, that he had fought in the Angolan war at the rank of colonel. Coincidentally, the chap that we had in the car earlier, the one that determined us never to pick up another male hitchhiker, had also fought in the Angolan War. The three of us were also joined by another local whose English was a little better and we asked him if he could recommend somewhere to eat, somewhere that a ‘local’ would choose. Straight away he took the task in hand and marched us away from our colonel and straight to the house of someone who he thought would cook us a meal. Neither of us wanted a full meal and we were relieved that the ‘cook’ considered it too late to start cooking for us. On the way we had passed an area full of young romancing couples with music blaring and a stage set up so there was either going to be a live band or there had been a live band and eventually managed to persuade our new guide that we would find something to eat here as we had spied one of the fast food options that we had seen in other parts of Cuba; spit roasted pork, shredded (in front of you) then popped into a roll with a large pinch of salt. We had wanted to try something different and were really only looking for a snack so decided to take our place in the queue and when we got it it actually tasted pretty OK! Not great but it was different and good if only for that reason; especially when washed down with a can of Buccanero one of the Cuban beers. We continued to people watch until one of us, me actually, could no longer cope and needed my bed. Although it was good to lie down and the place was quiet(ish) at that time of night except for the barking dogs, it had to be getting on for 11 or 12 o’clock there was always that worry that the wheels would be missing the next morning. Santiago De Cuba is really busy city, the capital city prior to Havana, and the city wakes very early which was ok as we wanted to be off early anyway.
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