Manuel, our driver, spoke very little English. Our first stop was at his home in the country. Such a lush area. He had a water line running from a nearby river. Connected to this line was a series of power tools that were hydro powered and I do not mean hydro-electricity. The little hog was photographed at his home.
The classic Buick that carried us around was a thrill. Norvis was careful to ensure the doors were latched each time we were loaded into again. Several times, while driving, I hung my arm out the window just to hold the door from swinging open. Seat belts you ask? Not in a car that old. The most unusual image is that of Jean. A great traveler seated in the front and reflected in the side mirror. That mirror needed re-silvering and had spray paint on it. I like the effect.
The caves were a let down. After climbing up a hill to access the caves, Norvis warned us not to touch the rocks. He didn't want us touching guano and getting sick. As if to mock our caution, as we exited the hill, a small group of locals scurried up the pathways that led deeper into the cave than we could see.
We visited a couple of battle fields where Fidel and Che , et al, won battles. The revolutionaries strategies were simple; travel and stay in the mountains.
Lunch #1, a sandwich from our hotel was eaten under an bridge by a freshwater pool, listening to the ocean smash onto the rocks and beach.
Lunch #2, after a tour of a banana, turkey, vegetable and hog farm, was at a private Cuban home. Fried fish, lobster and tomatoes followed by freshly cut open coconut juice.
I'm sure that you'll notice the deep drop in road in a couple of images. The bridge supports were undermined during a hurricane many years ago. While the westbound lane was not passable the eastbound was. It seems amazing that the bridge has stood like this for so long. I guess it's safe - well somewhat safe. At many places along the coast, the road was merely a metre or so from the crashing waves of the ocean.
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