17 December 2024, Tortuguilla to Imias, 41km
Hostal Lianet & Zaida, $23 (R421)

No matter the system, there are the enterprising!
Tonight's hostal in Imias, booked and paid for via Airbnb, is undergoing a second-floor extension, incomplete.
At the back of the property, however, are two small, neat rooms to let.
The family home is occupied by Zaida and her husband, her daughter, her son and daughter-in-law and two granddaughters.
In addition to accommodation, the property courtyard is home to a pizzeria and ice cream parlour, unfortunately closed on a Tuesday, so it is pollo (chicken) and rice again for dinner (tasty).
The son also provides a taxi service in his 1952 Mercury, and he grows food on what sounds like a small-holding, and coaches basketball.
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The first and last 10km of today's 40, hugged the south coast; the middle 20km drew us inland into mildly hilly terrain. Despite the breeze, and a spit-spot of rain, it was debilitatingly hot. Perhaps the humidity is the real problem, rather than the temperature. Our shirt collars are soaked through and on any downhill or in any breeze, do indeed cool us some. Any other water we save for consuming.
We walked even mild inclines, our legs heavy and tired. We took regular breaks, enjoying particularly the shady bustops that appear at regular intervals along even this mainly rural route. In San Antonio del Sur, we were pleased to find a bus terminus with public loos. We seldom need a loo on the road, but when we do, it's nice to find one, even if the "proprietor" has to bring a bucket of water to flush it.
The km markers count up (or down) the km every two km.
We had our first puncture, never fun...
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I have been feeling unwell. Sleeping VERY long hours and still awaking tired. This morning, however, I felt somewhat improved...
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DID YOU KNOW that the US Department of Treasury regulates travel to Cuba so when you make accommodation bookings through Airbnb, you have to select one of 12 reasons for your trip from a dropdown menu?
None of the 12 is TOURISM.
The reasons range from “Official government business” through “Religious” through “Support for the Cuban people”.
Charl and I selected the hopefully innocuous “Information or information materials”.
My brother, who is flying out from Vancouver to join us for a few days, selected “Family visit”.
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Since our arrival, one of our hosts has become ill and asked us to cancel our accommodation with her. When we tried to reserve another option, Airbnb would not take bookings from within Cuba. My brother has reserved on our behalf.
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We are still struggling to get our heads around where and how to shop. From the bus, entering Santiago de Cuba, we saw what from the outside looked like a supermarket. Whether its shelves were in fact stocked, is an unknown.
Actually identifying a shop, and hoping it has more than just alcohol on offer, is proving a challenge.
The fair in La Maya made things simple as all goods were on open display at the same time along a single street. Chicken and sweet potato crisps, corn fritters, vetkoek, cheap biscuits, ice cream in a cone, non-alcoholic drinks including water.
There are, of course, identifiable restaurants, but these are often closed, or are advertising only two beers for sale on their display boards. The popular places have food, of course.
Many people sell from their homes. These shops are usually unsignposted and require a local to direct you there.
Some "shops" are open briefly only, while stocks last. In Santiago, Charl bought loose cigarettes from a man seated in a doorway. In front of him, was a portable mini-stall from which he was hawking cigarettes and espresso from a single flask.
Lesson learned from the airport: if you see a queue, get in it. Most queues are awaiting access to a bank, municipal office or clinic. Or are people awaiting public transport. But this afternoon, in need of food, we were cued by a queue, more a small cluster of customers, outside a small stall. At which everyone was buying a fat mini-pizza, dripping with tomato sauce and stringy cheese, for just R4.50. Exactly what we needed just then!
Water is on occasion proving a problem. Today we literally drank cervesa (beer) instead of water, until the store owner took pity on us and wandered away to source bottled water for us elsewhere. The beer was icy, the water not.
Garages, usually a beacon to those travelling by bicycle, with air pumps, toilets and a shop, even in Africa, here are generally sad affairs offering petrol only.
Bottom line: if you ask around for a mercado, you will have more luck obtaining what you want than if you look around.