Rather than risking not getting bus tickets onwards to Trinidad after arriving in Havana from Viñales, we opted for sacrificing an extra CUC$3 each to get a taxi straight from the door in Viñales to the door at Mandy y Marilyn's casa particular in Trinidad.
In practice, this was not as horrible of an idea as initially feared. I got stuck in the middle seat since i'm short (Ian needs leg room) and wasn't hung-over (Amy and Rach had been drinking rum and dancing salsa till the wee hours of the morning) but there was plenty of room and natural airconditioning (i.e. open windows) so i really didnt think the trip was all that bad...
After 6 hours and having broken all speed limits, our tired driver dropped us off in Trinidad where our non-english-speaking host, Mandy, soon realised that Amy was pretty much the sole communication portal and proceeded to deliever all messages through her for the duration of our 4 day stay.
Having felt unwell for a few days, Ian stayed at the casa while the rest of us went on an exploratory wander and quest for pharmaceutical supplies and water. Finding the heat too much, Rach and Amy returned to the casa and left me to my own devices till dinner would be served at 8.
Had i not spend the 1½ hours walking along the streets of Trinidad that evening, i doubt this town would have fascinated me as much as it did. the late afternoon/early evening light is ideal and the streets were quiet and peaceful and showed few hints of being a 'tourist-mecca'. If first impressions are as crucial as they say, this was a good sign.
Keeping the pace slow, most of our first full day in Trinidad was spent playing cards at Bar Daiquiri where a few locals joined us and chatted away as Cubans who know english quite happily do, while laughing at us for writing postcards since, as they informed us, it easily takes up to 2 months for them to be delivered. we still sent them...
That evening, we met up with the guys from Bar Daiquiri at Trinidad's town version of resort entertainment, Casa de la Musica, where we joined the many many danish tourists for some live salsa music before heading up the mountain to Discoteca Ayala (aka La Cueva), an underground cave that has been converted into a nightclub. CUC$3 entry, free drink included, suited our student-selves just fine. The club itself scored major points for the kitsch factor, the bar and the dancefloor located at one end with the DJ booth mounted up high on the rock face, the toilets at the other end, and plenty of protruding and low-hanging rock formations to keep an eye out for. In any European country, this club would have broken all health and safety regulations. In Cuba, it seems, if there's an opportunity to drink and party, anything goes.
After being let down by our Cuban 'friends' who offered us a ride [ed: really they offered to provide the car and wanted one of us to drive. By default (Amy has never taken driving lessons, Rach only has a provisional licence and Ian hasn't driven since passing his test 4 years ago) i was appointed official chauffeur] to Topes de Collantes National Park in the Escambray mountain range the next morning, we decided it was time for a day at the beach. i'm not big on beach days generally since sunbathing bores me and i get restless with so little to do (i kind of feel that 22 is too old to be building sandcastles...) but i must admit i was dead-excited to finally swim in the Caribbean Sea. i'd been on that island for an entire week before we got near enough to water worth swimming in and despite Playa Ancón's beach hotels, and the resulting tourist-presence, it was a pretty enjoyable day and the water really was idylically and beautifully blue (think any postcard from the Caribbean).
The waterfall at Topes de Collantes was still intriguing us so the next day we set off along the steep, winding roads with a taxi arranged by Mandy's daughter (who works for a tour operator and knew english). It was immediately apparent that we had lucked out by our Cuban acquintances not having shown up the day before, because me driving their Cuban car on those roads would have been a recipe for disaster.Topes de Collantes National Park, despite its obvious natural beauty, turned out to be my worst nightmare... our entry ticket warned us not to touch the wildlife and pictured a frog and that was pretty much the instant my brain shut down. phobias aren't rational and thus neither is mine of frogs. the idea of trekking for 1 hour downhill into a valley that i by then had cnvinced myself was crammed full of frogs, and kknowing that the only way out was the 1½ hour uphill trek back, was my idea of hell.
Not even the waterfall at the bottom, nor the lagoon-like lake we swam in, did much to convince me that the whole experience was worth it. oh, and in case anyone was wondering: no, we didn't see one single frog...
we did, however, get to see Cuba's national flower, the Mariposa (or butterfly lily):
Travelling can be quite testing for friendships and it was in Trinidad that we started noticing this. Of course it didn't help that pre-existing tension and drama travels with you even to practically the other side of the planet, and i think that is probably why me and Ian ended up having a bit of an argument that evening. it's tough having no one neutral to go to to vent frustrations and i think that's why we all began feeling the pressure of only being the 4 of us.
But it is nice when the strength of a friendship and the extent to which friends do care about each other despite differences of opinion become clear, and i think this was a situation when it did. so, one girly night out and a few talks later, things were pretty much back on track.
And so, after 4 eventful days, it was time to move on to the center of Che worship; Santa Clara.
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