Horse-riding into the wilderness

The next morning we breakfasted at seven to be ready for our horseriding at eight. We were somewhat dismayed to find a horrid red beetle (or maybe even a cockroach) in our hot milk, particularly since Mum had spotted Bartolo sieving the milk earlier, presumably to remove other nasties which had clambered in overnight. But this is Cuba, so we drank our milk anyway.

The guy who was bringing us horseriding was not an official guide, so the whole enterprise felt distinctly dodgy. We were to follow our guide through town at a distance so nobody would know, for example.

The horses were plodding creatures, described as tranquil but really just lazy. This was fine most of the way, but the problem with drinking coffee for breakfast is that it makes you need to go to the toilet mid-morning, so by the end of our journey I really wished the horse would hurry up.

We got a much better view of the valley on horseback than we did on foot, both because of the additional height and because we travelled so much further. Our guide wasn't particularly verbose which suited us just fine; it's quite tiring straining to understand all the time, and Vinales is all about the view. However, our understanding of Spanish is definitely coming on though it is difficult to find the words to respond in a conversation.

We wandered along between field after field of tobacco, sugar cane and whatever other crops they were growing. There were men irrigating the crops using a hose and a big pump, draining a small pool/lake-type thing.

After a while plodding along, just when our legs were really starting to ache, we stopped in a bamboo grove and tied up the horses (not that they would have wandered off anyway - far too lazy). The guide took us along a path which led to a rushing stream and the mouth of a big cave. The water was really cool, having been underground.


Entrance to cave

We thought we were just being shown this rather spectacular entrance to the cave when a local farmer appeared carrying several torches. We were led into the cave itself, led by our two guides with their torches.

Inside, the cave was quite tall and wide, with loads of stagnant pools which we had to leap over. Some of the bigger pools had wooden planks serving as bridges, but both the wood and the rocks were very slippy so the guides had to help us along a bit.

We went quite far into the cave and I must admit I was a little nervous. I had two big fears: snakes or crocodiles leaping out of the water and attacking us, and being attacked by the two men and abandoned in the dark.

But of course both those fears were somewhat irrational, and nothing bad happened to us. Eventually we reached a fast-flowing underground river and turned around to go back, but not before the guides did the auld Ailwee Caves trick and turned off the torches. I think our guide felt a little foolish when his torch wouldn't turn back on again (it did start working later).

I think we were both glad we went to the Cueva del Indio before this cave - other way around and we would have found the Cueva del Indio very disappointing.

After the cave we climbed back aboard the horses and went traipsing along again. Our next port of call was a little wooden shack thing with piglets running around in the sugarcane outside. This is where our guide's friend Chico was.


'loco' Chico (standing) and our guide (sitting)

This was one of my favourite events of the holiday, although it wasn't particularly fun as such (the language barrier was a little uncomfortable). Chico, who our guide kept describing as 'loco', was sitting in his little hut with a cowboy hat and jeans, chopping the tops off coconuts with his machete. Then he poured in rum, sugar and assorted fruit, despite it only being 10am. Then he and Mr Guide started rolling cigars and chopping the tops off with the machete. There was a Dutch (?) couple there when we arrived, who were enjoying the rum and cigars, then a German couple arrived, complete with antibacterial hand spray. They didn't want rum or cigars, and looked really quite uncomfortable.

There's not much more to say about the horse journey - we headed back to Vinales through similarly beautiful scenery but I was mostly distracted by needing to pee.

We got back to the house, showered and had a sandwich (and more delicious orange juice), then our host insisted on walking us to the bus, carrying Mum's bag on his back.

The Viazul bus to Havana wasn't anywhere near as nice as the one to Trinidad but it got us there.