I had booked my little countryside escapade to Viñales before going to Cuba, having read the advice of lots of travelers. There is one long distance bus company in Cuba, the ONLY long distance bus company in Cuba, called Viazul and they’re the ones that take you from town to town on the island. Just as everything else, painfully slow. Apparently, tickets get booked pretty quickly and there are not many departures every day, so it was a good idea to book in advance and know that I had a seat reserved.

The email confirmation told me to present myself at the bus station one hour before departure and exchange this voucher for the actual ticket. As my bus was going to leave at 9 am on Monday, I called my driver Orlando and he took me there early in the morning. You know, when you get an instruction in Cuba you kind of want to respect it and not risk anything so I was there at 7:45, just to be sure.

The bus terminal is worth a chapter itself, but I’ll make it short: LOL!
I think these photos (which are not mine) speak for themselves.

This is just like the airport, not designed for the large amount of tourists coming in. Also it’s the hub for locals who commute from town to town, aka tons of people and luggage. Or as it’s called there: loggages.

The cafeteria, naturally, doesn’t open till 9 in the morning (9ish in the morning, depending on the mood of the tired employee) so if you’re thinking of getting anything to eat or drink before the 9am departure, don’t count on doing so there… I didn’t visit the glorious “tollettes” but I can pretty much imagine what they’re like.

As I entered the building, I desperately looked for a sign because it’s difficult to know where to go in the crowd of people. Found the inevitable queue and joined in, hoping to be able to exchange my voucher there. Once again with the speed of a narcoleptic snail, one employee was exchanging vouchers for electronic typewriter tickets, but when I got close enough to hear him speak, it turned out they were only doing this procedure for the departure to Holguín and Viñales would be done later. Now, this would be totally peachy for everybody IF THE STAFF COULD SPEAK ENGLISH AS WELL OR IF THEY USED PROPER SIGNS EXPLAINING THE PROCESS! As in, maybe have one gate for each departure, with a big, mother of all signs with the name of the place and a separate line for each. Because not all tourists are fluent in Spanish like myself and there was no serious queuing system at all, nobody knew what the hell they were waiting for basically.

I’d like to take a moment for the decor. Yes folks, Comic Sans is alive and thriving in Cuba! And don’t be fooled to think the place was empty, this was the forbidden zone and everyone is to my left, plus I didn’t want to take photos of people and employees in case that would piss anyone off.

The process is as follows: once the people with pre-booked tickets are checked in, there may be cancellations or no-shows and there are tons of people waiting there hoping to maybe catch a seat on one bus. So the employees will attend to that crowd first, before checking in for other departures. That kind of makes sense, but it becomes a pain in the ass waiting when they’re not doing departures simultaneously. But since there most probably only is one typewriter, maybe possibly if we’re lucky TWO, they can’t do it differently. And the bus will not leave until it’s full, which means the ones before Viñales took forever and it was already 9 am.

Finally, I could exchange my voucher and get on the bus. Viñales is only 185 km East of Havana so technically that should be done in about two hours. But this is Cuba so it will take three and a half or even four. Why? Because even when it says you can do 100 on the highway it’s not possible and because the toilet on the bus is not meant to work so there will be stops along the way. One “official” stop at a cafeteria near a lake where you will be eaten by mosquitoes and stressing to go the bathroom with hundreds of others who stop there, and other emergency stops in case someone really, really needs to go.

I spent my 15ish minutes running away from the mosquitoes and buying way more nougat than I needed from a farmer who was strategically positioned where our bus stopped. Kinda like tours that end in a shop so you can buy stuff you don’t really need. Each unit he was selling cost 1 CUC but he had no change for a 20 or a 10, even a 5 was difficult, so there I was with 5 huge bits of nougat and still not able to change some of my bills. But they did me good since the line to the actual cafeteria was too long, way too long to try to see if they had any food.

I can’t complain about the road though, even with the delay and low speed it was pretty ok and I could sleep throughout most of it. The bus passes the small town of Pinar del Rio before entering the Viñales Valley.

This really is the countryside, so if you ever come here expecting anything else, you’re in for a shock. I think I had such a great time because it reminded me so much of the countryside in Romania, it was dirty, simple, quiet, yet friendly and genuine.

This valley is famous for its landscape called mogotes and the tobacco farms. The mogotes are very steep mountain-like formations coming out of the plains, usually containing caves and underground rivers. Slaves used to hide and disappear in these caves during colonial times and most of the land in the valley is cultivated with traditional agricultural methods.

If in Havana you can run away from the most touristy areas and find hidden gems, Viñales is the opposite, it’s a big pile of tourism because that’s what they live off. This miserable village of two main streets and a gas station is full of rentals, there are rooms and houses everywhere and as soon as one bus arrives in the park (the locals know the timetable) you will be attacked by cards, taxi offers and tour information. I hadn’t even stepped out of the bus when about 20 cards were in my face and I was once again called by my Cuban name “TaxiLady”. This is what it looks like, in a photo from atcubanstyle.com.

I knew where my little Airbnb house was, it was all booked so I didn’t need a room, but I was too lazy to walk and accepted the taxi offer of a dude with a cowboy hat and funky outfit. He seemed like fun. But I noticed we were walking farther from the park and I wondered where his taxi was, I was thinking dude, I need a car, not a walk. He turned to me and with this huge grin on his face he said “My taxi is parked over there, I couldn’t bring it this close to the bus.” And as I saw his taxi, I understood why… It was a horse-drawn carriage…

As I said, Viñales is basically two main streets, a few side alleys with farms and small houses even outside the village limits, closer to the mogotes. The Airbnb houses are known by the name of their owners, it’s one of those places where everybody knows everybody and they live off commissions so it’s all teamwork. My cowboy knew exactly where to take me.

I stayed in a lovely little house just 10 minutes off the main street, owned by an incredibly friendly couple, Ada and Mario. They were really eachother’s opposites, with Ada constantly on the run wanting to help out and never shutting up and Mario calmly sitting in his rocking chair petting the dog, but so happy to receive people and very warm and welcoming.

The house was spotlessly clean and Ada really puts her heart and soul into welcoming her guests. Even with this horrible style of furniture that is so common in Cuba, the plastic flowers and the dodgy electric shower, you can’t help but love this.

Within 30 minutes of my arrival, Ada had booked me on all possible tours and even made dinner reservations at a place she said was great. She knows how to run this business, especially when someone visits only for two days, like I did. There’s no time to waste! In the dining room, there was this big poster with the tours she could book me on and she even had a proper binder with all the info and prices. She was good at folding towels, she made me an afternoon snack and even took my order for breakfast the following day. You just can’t refuse her and you shouldn’t either because the tours were great, I maybe wouldn’t have been able to do them on my own, I felt well taken care of and very safe at all times.

At 2 pm, I was already on horseback, which I had hoped to be able to do while in Viñales, on a four hour tour to a tobacco farm, a coffee plantation, the area around the mogotes and a lake with a nice view of the whole valley.

What can I tell you, apparently I ride like a pro even if it was my first time ever on a horse, I now know how cigars are made even if I don’t smoke and I’m also an expert on coffee production even if I rarely drink coffee. This was the most fun I’ve had in a long time, together with two fellow travelers from Mexico and our two guides who made sure we were ok with the horses. My horse was the calmest animal ever, I definitely want to do this again!

After literally riding off into the sunset, I came back to the house to rest a little and get ready for dinner. Ada had booked me at this place called El Campesino and a friend of hers took me there in the evening.

After carefully studying the menu, I asked for the beef, but there wasn’t any (surprise, surprise, a shortage of something in Cuba) so I chose the chicken instead. I asked if it comes with anything and the really, and I mean REALLY handsome waiter who took care of me told me it would come with a little bit of everything. In my mind, “a little bit of everything” is just that, A LITTLE BIT.

I don’t know, maybe I was expecting French cuisine of one leaf in the middle of a big white plate, but when the bowl of vegetable soup, apparently also included, arrived, followed by the main chicken dish and the Cuban version of “a little bit of everything” my jaw dropped. We’re not talking a tiny portion for one person, we’re talking 1 liter of soup, half a grilled chicken, one huge portion of beans, the inevitable potato, the inevitable banana chips, one huge portion of regular rice, one huge portion of saffron rice with pineapple, a salad and a plate of fruit. For four people, this would have been great. For me? Man, I needed maternity pants for all that food. I had to ask what they do with all the food that’s left, because there was no chance that I could eat all of it and that felt like such a waste to me. It’s given to the pigs, so at least it’s not thrown away.

I got myself a mojito to go with that and I still can’t help but smile when I remember the waiter bringing me the check. All that food and one drink, a total of 13 CUC. Ridiculous! SO CHEAP! SO YUMMY!

As for my waiter, I was invited to dance straight away, even before ordering, but I politely refused because I was genuinely tired and didn’t feel like going out. At my age… Also, with Cuban men, by then I knew what could happen and I wasn’t really interested in making out with anyone. But as he kept bringing me the food and smiling and we kept talking I just couldn’t help it, he was frekkin’ gorgeous and so charming so I thought why not. I told him I’d come back the next evening and we could go dancing then.

I left and went back to my little house, had a nice chat with Ada and Mario barefoot on their front porch and then went to bed. Quiet countryside life, good rest.

In the early morning, Ada made me a lovely breakfast and made sure my ride for the next tour would be on time.

My ride was another tin box, a Lada I think, that took me around the whole valley for some three hours, with a very friendly driver who patiently waited for me to visit every possible cave and hill with a view and who couldn’t stop asking me questions about the cold in Sweden.

Caves are pretty much the same everywhere, stalactites and stalagmites, total darkness and the fear of taking a path that looks like the right one but isn’t, getting lost and never being found, thus slow painful cave death… What was fun about one of these places was the river boat ride from one end of the cave to the other. If you ever visit, get there at opening time, it gets really crowded afterwards. I’m so happy Ada sent me early in the morning, I was done by the time large groups of people were coming in.

One entrance fee was 5 CUC and the other 3 CUC. Ridiculously cheap and the places were well organized and maintained, very clean. This is ecotourism and the valley is a UNESCO world heritage site. The second one even included a local cocktail so I even treated my driver to a drink afterwards. While he enjoyed his refreshment, I was once again devoured by mosquitoes, whose existence everyone in Cuba seems to deny…

After the caves, we went to the famous Mural of Prehistory and a hotel with a nice view of the area.

At the hotel, they had wi-fi cards so in a stroke of genius I decided to get myself lots of ’em, so that I wouldn’t have to queue later on. The man at reception was first very reluctant to sell me any at all, but I charmed his pants off, irresistible as I am, called myself an internet junkie, a total addict, so he had to give in and give me 10 cards. Surely it was my smile, but also possibly the sight of my wallet and the amount of cash I was willing to hand him…

Internet Jackpot! There are only 9 in this photo because I’d already used one “downtown”, where I asked my driver to drop me off at the end of the tour, hoping I could do some shopping. He said there were two shops in town but my dream of finding any clothes or shoes was crushed to cinders when I realized the two shops were only selling souvenirs and hats.

Here’s how you spot tourists in Cuba: we wear the hats. No, but seriously. Cubans wear other types of hats, if any at all, some while working in the fields in the scorching sun, others wear baseball-type caps or cowboy hats if they’re trying to be cool or on horseback respectively. Us foreigners will most probably buy the straw fedoras on the beach or at crafts markets. Exhibit A:

The rest of the street only offered bars and restaurants, so for my upcoming dance date, I’d have to wear the same outfit as the previous night.

However, on one side alley, there was a sort of market where you could find the only type of clothing you can buy in a village in Cuba – white crochet! For the love of me, I can’t understand how one could wear any type of yarn in the tropical heat, but with the shortages in Cuba, after a while you’re not surprised anymore. People here get regular clothes in the few shops there are in bigger towns or in other people’s homes. Anyone who can get their hands on something from abroad might be able to have a little business and sell clothes.

I asked to try on a dress and the fitting room turned out to be the man’s house, right behind his stand. As he yelled for his wife to come help me and she didn’t turn up, he handed me a small mirror and basically apologized that he couldn’t do better. Even though I pretty much looked like a ham in it and couldn’t see myself wearing it back home in Stockholm, I got myself the tiny crochet dress that smelled like the rest of Viñales (for those wondering, that’s the lovely fragrance of cow and hay), just in case…

Snatched this photo from a review on TripAdvisor, this is the market.

Then I went to one of the shops and pretty much bought half of it for no money at all, thus getting presents for people back home, the local addition to my collection of tacky magnets and an extra bag since I was obviously on a spree and wouldn’t be able to fit everything in my backpack. My cunning plan for this trip was to leave my big suitcase in Havana and travel light for 5 days, which I did. Pros: no schlepping around, no fear of it disappearing in any of the obscure bus stops. Cons: too many small units as hand luggage, first world problem of the day…

Sweaty (wearing black in the Cuban sun is just as stupid as wearing crochet), hungry and most of all in need of a bathroom, I stopped at a little bar to have some lunch.

The food was ok, the toilet could be flushed (a miracle!) and this drink was to die for. After that, I gave the main street a second chance, took some photos and headed home for a bit of rest before dinner.

My other cunning plan for this trip had been to not get involved with anyone, really, but since this was Cuba, it would simply fail. Little did I know that our dancing would evolve into something more. So there I was trying to be casual and not fall for anyone, yet with a couple of confused butterflies in my stomach when I went to have dinner at my date’s restaurant as I’d promised.

As a woman, traveling by myself, it’s not always easy to deal with all the unwanted attention. Sometimes you’re just too tired and it becomes too much. Cuba is a very special place when it comes to that, especially since it’s so cut off from the rest of the world. Stuff like #metoo hasn’t really reached this island and the Cuban ways are sometimes very different from what we find acceptable in Europe. Guys will be so forward as to tell you how great your boobs look. Stuff happens much faster here, women are worshiped, men dance like gods, sex is nothing to hide and getting a divorce is nothing to be ashamed of. There’s always music and rum, everything is in the open, people are direct and flirting is a must. There’s a darker side to all this too, given people’s economic situation and desires to get out of the country, but I won’t get into details about that now.

What I learned is that foreigners either embrace this completely or despise it, there really isn’t something in between. Tons of women have found someone in Cuba, because in spite of being verbally pushy, a lot of Cuban men have something that others fail at. They may say stuff, but they’ll most probably not do stuff if you say no. Most guys I came across were very polite and you won’t be touched unless you wish to be touched. So basically, a Cuban guy who’s not a complete ass (there are some, naturally, just like everywhere) might love YOUR ass and make it obvious with words and looks, but he’s not gonna touch it unless you specifically ask for it. They’re also a bit old fashioned when it comes to romance and they will definitely put in the effort.
On the other hand lots of girls get asked out, they might answer “Maybe tomorrow” and then they never show up again. And I totally dig that, I actually thought about doing so myself first because I didn’t really know what I was getting myself into, and there’s always the possibility of meeting a potentially dangerous weirdo. At the same time, that possibility is not typical of Cuba, as I mostly met really nice people throughout my trip. That’s why I had decided to give this guy a chance and have a good evening.

As I walked into the restaurant, the staff gasped and went “Wow, she came back”. I couldn’t see him anywhere but a colleague dragged him out pretty soon to take care of my dinner. Everyone kept staring, yep, the circus was apparently in town, so it was either a really nice impression I had made or just the fact that their buddy would probably score SOMETHING that night. I really couldn’t tell how much of a Casanova this guy was but Cubans are very supportive of eachother when it comes to that. So I just tried to enjoy my huge dinner without feeling too much of an object. To my aid came two huge piña coladas in the frekkin’ piña itself (why don’t we ever do this around here???) and the fact that the plates came from the Russian airline Aeroflot…

He had to work till around 11 pm and after that we left the place. I thought he was going to take me to a bar or the one disco on the main street, but we went to a place right next to the church, which is so funny to me. This is how things are in Cuba, build a club next to Jesus. Religion is not that important and that’s just great! Next to the church, you can have a beer, dance and go online and nobody’s going to judge you for it.

This place was GREAT! That’s where half of the village went, live music, great drinks, fun crowd. And what can I tell you, my date was one hell of a dancer. Another glitch in my cunning plans was that my next destination was Trinidad and I would leave at 6:45 the next morning. So just like Cinderella, I had to make the most of this date and try not to fall asleep. I’d have 10 hours to rest on the next bus so I figured what the hell, let’s do this. Ronald and I danced the night away and before you know it we were making out.

My walk of shame across the field was epic, too bad that at 3 in the morning only one guy and his horse could see it. So without getting any sleep, I got my stuff, had Ada’s lovely breakfast, said my goodbyes and got in the cab she’d called for me.

The Viazul office in Viñales is a pitiful room right across the street from the park and at 6 in the morning the only people awake in the village are the tourists going to Cienfuegos or Trinidad (and probably their own Airbnb Adas with the breakfast). But believe it or not the bus was on time and the check-in process was a breeze, so there I was, ready to finally get some sleep, once again on my way through the Cuban countryside.

But then came the inevitable overthinking of what to do about my date, nip this in the bud or see him again. Maybe this was my Cuban one night stand. Or maybe this was the man of my life (insert large amount of drama)… Maybe I should just ghost him, like lots of guys do nowadays. Or let him down gently from another town, maybe we should just be friends. Or maybe I should just allow myself to like him and see what we can do about it. Long story short, I was completely smitten and since Ronald couldn’t come with me to Trinidad straight away, we decided he’d take some days off and we’d spend the coming week together once I was back in Havana. Because, why not?

Next stop: Trinidad.