Camping was the plan for my trip east of Cienfuegos. I was prepared for the usual hassle from the Cuban police but this time there was something else on my mind.  The last time the tent was used I put it away damp and three days had passed.  As hours passed apprehension grew in my mind and God knows what else grew in the pannier.

Just about anyone who had explored Cuba before had recommended that I ride the coastal mountains that run from Cienfuegos to Trinidad so when the sun rose I rode in that direction.  I passed several communities on the coast east of Cienfuegos before turning north to the mountains where I found an unusual piece of art at the end of a short road.

Native art near Guajimico, Cuba

Entrance to a National museum near Mayari, Cuba

It turned out to be a small national museum with a couple different themes.  Part of the museum helped display the coffee plantations that dotted the hills before the revolution while another smaller home on the site was dedicated to revolutionary heroes that sought refuge in mountain homes during the years of fighting.

Hammock, coffee roaster and coffee baskets at museum near Mayari, Cuba

Grinding stone and pestal at museum near Mayari, Cuba

My guide pried herself away from her counterpart and accompanied me along through the displays.  She started in a quick, efficient manner akin to that of a ticket usher in Fenway Park who wanted to get back to his conversation with the regular season ticket holders but after a while she started to smile and have some fun.

My museum tour guide

I was led back to the gate where a group of teenagers taking a break from band practice to look over the big bike in the empty parking lot.

Break from band practice to look over the bike near Mayari, Cuba

I decided to move on to Trinidad stopping only to have lunch at a roadside fruit stand / bus stop.  The usual crowd that gathered around the bike shifted its zoo like focus on me when I pulled out my stove to make some coffee before crowding on to the back of a gravel truck and disappearing down the mountain to Trinidad.

Trinidad, Cuba from a mirador in the mountains north

The streets of Trinidad were a real surprise and even with the towns obvious focus on tourism it managed to keep the old part of the city looking authentic.

Trinidad, Cuba

Bike parked on the street in Trinidad, Cuba

A fellow tourist from Conneticut insisted on taking photos of me riding the streets so I handed over my camera and gingerly traversed the mud covered cobblestone while he snapped away.

Riding in Trinidad, Cuba

Riding the historic square in Trinidad, Cuba

Thumbs up to Trinidad, Cuba

As nice as Trinidad was I wasn’t interested in a homestay and worked my way out to the coast to find a place to camp.  After a short run west I backtracked to Trinidad to turn south to the small village of La Boca.

Fishing boats in La Boca, Cuba

I made my way down to the beach in the sweltering heat and spoke with a few fishermen who said it was fine if I camped on the beach.  I surveyed the area, chose my spot and put up the tent near the entrance to the small harbor where there boats were docked.

Net fishing in La Boca, Cuba

Camp near the rowing club in La Boca, Cuba

A short time later I was cooking supper and doing my best to ignore the local drunk as he patiently waited for me to relent and give in to his request of a share of the rice.  Luckily the rowing club started practice and it afforded me something to focus on while I pretended not to notice his constant gaze.

Walking the boat to the water in La Boca, Cuba

Rowing practice in La Boca, Cuba

Camp near the rowing club in La Boca, Cuba

Fortunately the old drunk grew impatient and walked away muttering to himself.  I managed to scoff down my supper and enjoy the sunset while the rowers packed up for the day.