Friday, April 30, 2010

Baracoa




















When the time came for the group trip to end, I didn’t want to go back to Havana. Instead of driving back on the bus I had them drop Celine and I off at the bus station in Trinidad. 7PM – leave Trinidad, 7AM – arrive Santiago de Cuba, 8AM – leave Santiago de Cuba, 2PM – arrive Baracoa. Every minute of lost sleep and every peso spent were worth it ten times, no, a million times over. Baracoa is my favorite place in Cuba.

Before even arriving I fell in love with the place. Everything I read about it explained how Baracoa was the first city in Cuba but due to the rugged terrain it had remained cut off from the rest of the island until 1968 when the first reliable (albeit narrow, steep, and winding) road was built through the mountains, “La Farola.” Because of this isolation… the people are crazier, the food is inventive and delicious, the environment is well preserved, and basically all other traditions and aspects of the culture are unique.

The drive from Santiago de Cuba through Guantanamo, along the coat and up La Farola was one of the most beautiful places I have ever been. We drove through desert scrubland, along rocky coasts with turquoise water, past rain forest and quaint villages, and then up into largest mountains in Cuba on La Farola.

The first order of business after arriving in Baracoa was to find Daniel, a friend of Jorges, amongst the group of literally 50 people waiting outside the bus station pushing on the fresh arrivals their casas particulares, taxis, or souvenirs. Staying with Daniel and his family, we lived like queens. Baracoa is known for its food and it lived up to every expectation I had... fresh juice, hot chocolate, cucuruchu (honey, coconut, other fruits, and different mixes of various other things wrapped in palm leaves), fish in coconut sauce, albaricokey (pear like fruit), bars of chocolate, bananas, and tons of other goodies.

The first full day, we fled to the mountains. After a half hour truck ride north along the coast, we arrived at the National Park of Alexander Humbolt. We had a fabulous guide who took us on a hike, explained the wildlife, and then led us to a freshwater swimming hole. We saw the zunzuncito (smallest bird in the world), Cuban tody, the tocoro, the ranacita (smallest frog in the world), and countless other species of birds, lizard like creatures, and plants. Due to high concentrations of certain metals in the soil the park is home to the vast majority of the endemic species in Cuba. Very cool! On the way home, we stopped at the beach for a few hours of soaking in the sun and swimming.

The next day we rented bikes and took to the countryside ourselves. We biked 10km to the trailhead of El Yunque, or “the anvil”, a flattop mountain that dominates almost every picture of Baracoa. We had no concrete plans, but when presented with a mountain… I have to climb it. I argued with the guard at the gate for a while over what price we should pay as students not simply tourists then off we went with yet another great guide, Roy. El Yunque is about 600m high, full of more cool wildlife and almost the entire trail is straight up… not too bad except that hiking in the Caribbean heat is killer. When we got to the fruit vendor three quarters of the way up I thought I had died and gone to heaven. You pay 1$CUC for all you can eat fresh, delicious, juicy fruit on the way up AND on the way down. The views from the top of the coast and neighboring mountains were beautiful and the feeling of reaching was the same as always… one of the best feeling in the world.

On the way down Roy took us a ‘secret path’ to the waterfall and the Rio Duabe. The only stipulation was that we don’t tell the guard at the gate we had gone to the waterfall, because it is technically a separate hike and therefore an additional entrance fee. By this time we had been together all day, chatting and such so it felt more like hiking with a friend than with a guide. The people of Baracoa were all this way, super friendly. As we stared getting closer to the river I started to hear it… whitewater! This area has the biggest rivers in Cuba and therefore rapids! I’m sure at this point Roy thought was a bit crazy because of how excited I got. We all jumped in for a swim, played in the whitewater, and climbed along the rocks searching for places to jump off of. In total it was 14km of hiking. We biked back to town, showered, and passed out. This was a perfect day.

The last day I walked through town, past the baseball stadium, and along the beach to the mouth of the Rio Miel. To cross the river you walk on a narrow wooden bridge and enter a tiny fishing community. I spent time here hanging out with some kids and they showed me how to help them net crabs. The rest of our time in town was spent talking to people in the streets, in the main park, and in our casa. We visited some small museums during the day and listened to some traditional music at night. What people write is true, Baracoa locals are a bit crazier... the whole place is a bit crazy. I’m sure my horrible writing skills do not convey entirely the character of Baracoa. I felt completely at ease and incredibly happy there.

Unfortunately I couldn’t stay in Baracoa forever, or even stay there for the rest of my time here in Cuba. After we had finally secured bus tickets (getting to and from Baracoa is quite a task since it is literally on the complete other side of the island from Havana) it was back to reality. Door to door this time was 24 hours passing through every province and every major city in Cuba… again.

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