We woke relatively early. After checking Internet we are both increasingly craving connection with the rest of the world), we rented bikes and ride to Playa Ancon, the best beach on the south side of the island. Lonely Planet said it was a leisurely 40-minute ride to Ancon, which was not the case at all. Maybe if we had sleek road bikes, but we had (as most everyone does) vines that rode more like tanks. Nevertheless, after 70 minutes of biking we arrived at our destination. We tried to get lunch at the first hotel (an awfully ugly Soviet style resort) - a large tourist buffet that didn't look too appealing. A woman led us to the front desk to get lunch tickets, but the front desk woman completely ignored our presence for 3-4 minutes (she was counting money), so we walked to the next hotel and ate at their buffet. Jenny didn't feel well, so she went to the beach while I stayed to eat and chat with one of the waiters - a very friendly guy about my age. We talked about the typical things - relations between the U.S. and Cuba, and his desire to leave the country, but his fatalism about not being able to do so ("if you are Cuban you will live here and die here."). I asked our host in Vinales why he didn't travel outside the U.S., since Raul Castro made it legal a few years ago. He said (and I hope I understood him correctly) that he'd worry that if he left for vacation, when he came back his money in the bank would be gone - apparently retribution from the government for leaving the country. I also can't imagine the typical Cuban family having enough money to go many places. We heard a couple stories of doctors becoming taxi drivers because it pays better.
The beach was nice. We sat there under an umbrella for a few hours then biked back to town. We switched bikes and I quickly realized I had the better of the two bikes on the way to the beach. Riding back, my bike's handlebar kept coming loose every 10 seconds, so I constantly had to readjust it.
That evening we ate dinner at a rooftop restaurant with a really cool sax-driven band (bought their CDs). On the way back I stopped to listen to some Trova.
Playa Ancon
This is how communists do beach resort
Our casa - very nice. I loved the patio.
The beach was nice. We sat there under an umbrella for a few hours then biked back to town. We switched bikes and I quickly realized I had the better of the two bikes on the way to the beach. Riding back, my bike's handlebar kept coming loose every 10 seconds, so I constantly had to readjust it.
That evening we ate dinner at a rooftop restaurant with a really cool sax-driven band (bought their CDs). On the way back I stopped to listen to some Trova.
Playa Ancon
This is how communists do beach resort
Our casa - very nice. I loved the patio.
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