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Canada, Cuba and Covid 19
  • The World on Two Wheels
mars – dec. 2020

Canada, Cuba and Covid 19

In March 2020 a group of 16 riders from the Australian Ghostriders cycling group travelled to Cuba to complete an extended cycling adventure around the island. This journal documents Cuba and the COVID aftermath that cut our trip short. Läs mer
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    2 mars 2020
    The World on Two WheelsCanada, Cuba and Covid 19The World on Two Wheels

    Thirteen Days that Stopped the World

    27 februari 2020, Australien ⋅ ☀️ 13 °C

    In October 1962 I was an eleven year old, Grade 6 student at Eastmoor State School. Although much of my primary school experiences have now faded into oblivion, there is still one event that still brings back feelings of fear and dread.

     In those days international travel was a luxury enjoyed only by the rich and powerful and I suspect that most people had never even heard much of the tiny country of Cuba and its enigmatic ruler Fidel Castro, until it was suddenly thrust into the world's spotlight. The so called "Cuban Missile Crisis" was a dangerous game of nuclear brinkmanship between John Kennedy and Nikita Khrushchev that brought the entire world to the very edge of nuclear war (and very possibly to the end of our civilisation).

    Even though I was only a young child, I was well aware that war was drawing ever closer. Every newspaper and news broadcast seemed to predict an imminent catastrophic war between Russia and America. It was during a school lunchtime that an announcement over the school PA system almost made me physically sick.

    I cannot understand why a school principal would put such an announcement to young children. Maybe he was just following instructions in case there was a nuclear attack on Melbourne. Although I have forgotten the wording of the announcement, I can remember that it effectively said that President Kennedy had ordered an immediate blockade of Cuba. Not many people believed that Russia would back down and hence we prepared for the worst possible outcome.

    Of course, that day was a lifetime ago. Although we came very close (most experts now say that nuclear war was a 50-50 chance), the world did not end. The children that I shared the playground with have gone on to live their lives, marry, have children and grandchildren of their own and only people who are now elderly can remember what those days were like.

    The conventional explanation of those events was that JFK outsmarted Khrushchev, however many years later the full story eventually came out. In return for the dismantling of the Russian missiles in Cuba, the USA also had to remove their nuclear weapons from Turkey as a quid pro quo.

    Although JFK was assassinated the following year and subsequent American presidents came and went. Fidel Castro continued his rule over Cuba for another 46 years. In that time massive changes in the world took place. America landed a man on the moon, technology took off, the computer age boomed and the Internet changed the way that we all live our lives. But what about Cuba ? Has it changed or is it still locked in a 1960s time bubble ? That is what we are soon about to find out.

    From my previous travels I have learned that the best way to truly experience any country is NOT by taking a package bus ride that pretends to show you "the whole country in five days". You do not learn much looking out a bus window. The very best ways are to explore by foot or by bicycle and Cuba is no exception.

    About 18 months ago I started exploring options to put together an extended cycling adventure around Cuba. After many hours of research and effort, I finally settled on a 16 day itinerary that would enable us to cycle between many of the most scenic and important parts of the country. Along the way, we would have plenty of opportunities to see what Cuba and its people are really like.

    When the plans were complete I shared the details with the others in the Ghostriders cycling group to see how many others would like to share the experience with me. The response was immediate and within a couple of days I had 16 people who were keen to head off into the unknown by cycling around Cuba on this madcap adventure.

    Over a year has now elapsed since those original plans were made. In just a few days our team members will be flying out of Melbourne and our long-awaited adventure will be starting in Havana.

    So will there be more to Cuba than old cars and Cuban cigars ? We will soon find out.

    You are invited to share the journey with me.    Läs mer

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  • The World on Two WheelsCanada, Cuba and Covid 19The World on Two Wheels

    A Disaster Strikes Before we Even Start

    29 februari 2020, Australien ⋅ ☀️ 22 °C

    It was not the call I wanted to hear. When you pack your bags for an overseas trip, the first item to pack should always be your passport. If you are going to visit any countries that require an entry visa, it is also essential that the relevant visa is packed and ready to be presented to the immigration officers when you arrive.

    For months I had been reminding our participants about the importance of having their Cuban visas sorted well before departure. And yet here we were. One of the first two participants to leave Melbourne had just arrived at the airport and discovered that their Cuban visa had "gone missing".

    To make matters worse, it was Saturday morning in Melbourne and the Cuban Embassy in Canberra was closed for the weekend. All I could do was reassure them that "somehow it would work out" and wish them a safe flight.

    When I got off the phone, I did some more research and learnt that it should be possible to arrange another visa when they arrive at Cancun airport in Mexico. Hopefully this information is accurate, or else we might find our group reduced from 16 to 15 before we even arrive in Havana.

    The phone call also prompted me to recheck that I still had my visa securely folded in my passport. To my relief it was. I also decided to scan the visa and store a digital copy as well. In a future blog post I will let you know whether the visa problem was solved or not.    Läs mer

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  • The World on Two WheelsCanada, Cuba and Covid 19The World on Two Wheels

    Black Beans, Rum and Cigars

    1 mars 2020, Australien ⋅ ⛅ 24 °C

    Before travelling to any country for the first time, I like to do a little bit of research - learn a little of the geography, history, culture and cuisine. I also try to learn at least a little of the local language. In this way I feel I am somewhat prepared for what I will encounter when I step out into the streets for the first time. So that's why I tried to learn a little about Cuba.

    The first reference I found was about the Cuban food. It summed it up pretty quickly by describing it as "pretty awful". Whoever wrote the article did their best to tell me that we should be prepared for a non stop diet of cabbage and black beans. If that is true then it is quite likely that I will not be putting on much weight over the next few weeks. While some of my less diplomatic friends might say that it will do me good to subsist on substandard food for a while, if I am going to have to eat copious quantities of beans, it is probably just as well that I have a room to myself.

    I also looked up what types of shopping I might do while in Havana. Apparently the most popular items for tourists to purchase are rum and cigars. In that case I won't have to worry about my luggage being overweight when I leave the country.

    And what about the language ? Although I did have the very best of intentions about refreshing my knowledge of Spanish, I have to admit that I somehow ran out of momentum at about lesson three of Pimsleur's Learn and Speak Spanish. I can confidently say "hello" , "thank you", "Good Morning" and count to ten. Anything else will be an unexpected bonus. So Cuba, here I come !

    Tomorrow morning I will be beginning my journey with a (very) long flight from Melbourne to Vancouver. At the same time a number of our other team members will be flying to Los Angeles, on their way to Mexico. After a very brief stop in Vancouver, I will continue with a (much shorter) flight to Toronto. That's where I will be stopping for a few days before continuing to Havana.

    As part of my research, yesterday I checked the weather in Toronto. It told me that it was - 11 C and snowing. Now that will be quite a shock, especially when compared with the tropical heat that will greet us in Cuba.

    The next footprint will be from Canada. Adios.    Läs mer

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  • The World on Two WheelsCanada, Cuba and Covid 19The World on Two Wheels

    Tired in Toronto

    3 mars 2020, Kanada ⋅ ☁️ 1 °C

    In some respects planning and executing a complex overseas trip is like assembling a clock - in spite of how much effort you put into the preparation, you never actually know if it will turn out OK until you actually start the process. A successful trip involves a vast number of inter related events all correctly occurring just the way you planned them.

    There are many things that throw your plans into chaos - a traffic jam on the freeway, a cancelled or delayed flight, a booking mistake by a hotel, a transfer that did not turn up as planned and (perhaps the most dreaded of all) the prospect of your luggage going missing in transit. In fact, when you consider all the things that can possibly go wrong, you might wonder why I keep travelling. The answer to that one is simple. The world is such an amazing place that once you start discovering one part of it, you just can't stop. It really can become an addiction.

    My long journey to Cuba began when my alarm went off at 4 am in the morning on the 2nd of March. It was dark and drizzly outside but the exciting prospect of more adventures about to begin was enough to wake me quickly. After a hurried breakfast and a final quick check of my luggage - yes my passport and Cuban visa were both there, it was time to face the first challenge.

    The prospect of driving the Monash Freeway at 6 am in the morning is indeed enough to make enough the valiant hearted weak at the knees. After ten minutes we found ourselves stuck in the first of many traffic jams. I could not help but feel pity for the poor devils who face this nightmare every morning of their lives. I don't care what salary you were paid, it could not possibly be enough to warrant this daily torment.

    Fortunately the jams did eventually clear and we arrived at the airport with time to spare. I queued in the Air Canada check in line while the two staff slowly worked their way through each person's paperwork. They could possibly have worked slower, but I am not sure how. The line moved forward at a glacial pace until I finally was relieved of my big luggage.

    The passage through security and immigration was actually fast when compared to the check in process. That gave me time for a coffee and a croissant. My wallet was lighter by about $15 already.

    I was not the only one of our group leaving that morning. There were also five other who were making their way to Cuba via Mexico. Since their plane was due to leave about an hour earlier than mine, I went in search of them. I arrived at their departure gate just in time to hear an announcement come over the PA that their flight would be delayed. Perhaps I would get to leave first after all ?

    I returned back to the Air Canada departure gate and waited for boarding, relieved to find that my flight would be taking off on schedule. I was not so relieved when I entered the plane and found the seat that I was going to be entombed in for the next 16 hours. I had paid extra for an "exit row", hoping for some additional leg room, not realising that the extra leg room came at the expense of seat width. It must have been the narrowest seat I have ever had on a long haul flight, but at least I could prop my legs up in the air on a bulging part of the exit door.

    The next 16 hours were not the highlight of my life. The Air Canada food was terrible and the squashed space meant that equal quantities of the main course made it into my mouth and onto the front of my shirt. The plastic fork bent every time you tried to pick anything up and the bread roll was like old rubber. It made the food on Emirates seem like like a gourmet delight by comparison.

    I tried to watch a couple of movies, but discovered that my screen was only half the size of every one else's. I suppose it was to match the width of my seat. There was only one thing left to do, and that was sleep. Somehow I managed to grab several slumber sessions, but each time I awoke I was disappointed to find that I had only been asleep for about 30 minutes or so. I envy those who can just shut their eyes and sleep all the way till touchdown. It is a skill I still have not mastered.

    I won't go into any more details about the longest 16 hours of my life, but we did eventually land in Vancouver. Thanks to the mystery of the international date line, the flight actually landed earlier than it took off from Melbourne !

    My first sight of Vancouver was not an encouraging one. It was foggy and raining. The temperature was about 5 C. Actually I could not have cared less about the cold. In fact I loved it. After the long hours spent in the over heated plane, it was delightful to breathe fresh cool air again.

    I had a scheduled 2 hour stop in Vancouver, before catching the next flight to Toronto. Thanks to a passenger not turning up for the flight, the departure was delayed while their luggage had to be retrieved from the baggage hold. At least the next flight was less than four hours. That was a real short hop compared to the behemoth I had just endured.

    We landed with a big bump on a snowy runway in Toronto about 45 minutes late. The clock and calendar tried to tell me that it was still the same day that I had left Melbourne, but my body and brain knew better - that was actually eons ago.

    I staggered from the plane and went off in search of the baggage carousel. For convenience they were situated about 2 km from the arrival gate. Awaiting for your own familiar luggage to appear is always a rather stressful time, especially if you see just about everyone else departing with their bags while you are still waiting. It is one of those events that you have no control over - a bit like winning the lottery, but in a (very) bad way.

    To my relief my bag did make a triumphant appearance and I went in search of the taxi that I had pre ordered back in Australia. I had not been waiting long when I received a SMS from the driver telling me that he was waiting for me. A short time later I was sitting in the back of a comfortable car, heading for downtown Toronto. The driver introduced himself as "Alex" and told me that he had originally come from Pakistan as a child, but had lived in Toronto for most of his life. Within minutes we discovered a common love of cricket and we spent the rest of the drive talking about players past and present. He seemed to know as much about all the Australian players as I did. I was even more surprised when he told me that he played Dodgeball and I was able to tell him that my youngest son had played on the Australian Dodgeball team.

    It was fascinating to see the high snow drifts on the sides of the road. This is my first time in Canada and I had been hoping that winter would not end before I arrived. I really wanted to see snow and now I had.

    The drive was only 26 km but it seemed much longer than that. It was around 7.30 pm when we finally arrived at my apartment. I had been planning to find something to eat, but all I could really think off was getting into a bed. So that's exactly what I did.

    In spite of all the things that could have gone wrong, nothing had. My clock was working.    Läs mer

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  • The World on Two WheelsCanada, Cuba and Covid 19The World on Two Wheels

    Exploring the City

    3 mars 2020, Kanada ⋅ ⛅ 1 °C

    It never ceases to amaze me how quickly our brains can adapt to unfamiliar environments. When I arrived in Toronto, less than 24 hours ago, I had absolutely no knowledge of the city. The drive from the airport took me through a continuing series of complete mysteries. I had no idea what direction we were travelling or how far away my apartment was. This is the same feeling I have whenever I enter a city for the first time.

    After a restless night's sleep my first need was to get something to eat. It had been a long time since I had eaten anything substantial and I knew that my body was running on empty. A glance out the window reminded me that it was cold outside - very cold. So on went my jumper, beanie and gloves and out I went into the streets of Toronto for the very first time.

    Of course this time I was on my own. I made a very conscious effort to memorise each landmark that I passed so that I would be able to find my way back again. My first observation was this was obviously a prosperous neighbourhood. A row of stately residences had been converted into very fancy shops, but there was nothing that looked like it would be able to sell me breakfast. I kept walking.

    Alongside the roadside there were large piles of dirty snow that had presumably been swept from the road itself. A very fine drizzle was falling, but it was scarcely enough to make me wet. Eventually I hit the jackpot. I spied a second floor eatery with the original name "Flo's Diner". The neon sign in the window said it was open. I immediately decided that my search was over. All I had to do was find a way to get up to the place.

    For the next ten minutes I tried every door I could find to gain entrance. All were locked tight. I walked back and forth in the street. I even decided to ask a man standing nearby for help, but unfortunately I managed to find one of the few people in Toronto who did not speak a word of English. Surely I would not collapse in the street from starvation when food was so tantalizingly close by ?

    Eventually I discovered an unlikely door next to a boarded up shop. It opened when I pushed and I experienced my own Eureka moment. Up the stairs and into the Diner I went. Soon I was enjoying a nice omelette and orange juice and my body started to feel better. At least I now knew where I could get food.

    I continued my walk and soon discovered an entire indoor shopping centre. One thing I can never understand is why the coldest countries have the hottest indoors. Although it was only 3C outside, the temperature inside was stifling. It was little wonder that some were walking around in T shirts and shorts. I could only think of the extreme waste of energy.

    It was good to be back outside in the cold again. I made my way to the imposing Royal Ontario Museum and learned about the hard life of the Eskimos. I was even able to watch a silent movie about "Nanook of the North". Although I had only planned to watch a few minutes of it, I found it really interesting and stayed for much longer.

    My next stop was the snow covered Queen's Park, followed by the University of Toronto. I followed a group of students into a lovely old building and for a while I pretended that I was back in my undergraduate years. The notices on the noticeboard had not changed much in 50 years. I guess student life is still very much the same the world over.

    By mid afternoon the rain had increased in intensity and I decided that it was time to return to the comfort of my apartment. I decided to try the television. Without any instructions, I could not figure out how to watch TV, but somehow I did manage to find that it streamed TED talks. I had already fed my body, so I thought it was time to feed my mind for a while. These talks really are fascinating.

    I had a simple dinner from some groceries I bought at the supermarket. The prices of simple staples like milk, cereal and juice was eye watering. $4.99 CAD for a 1 litre carton of milk made me appreciate that we really are not so badly off in Australia after all.

    Although I had only traveled a few km during the day, I already felt that I was beginning to build a mental map of the new surroundings.

    Now I'm ready for bed.    Läs mer

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  • The World on Two WheelsCanada, Cuba and Covid 19The World on Two Wheels

    A Day at the Falls

    4 mars 2020, Kanada ⋅ ⛅ 2 °C

    I suspect that, if people were asked to nominate the most famous waterfall in the world, most would answer "Niagara Falls". The very name conjures up images of thundering white water and daredevils who risked their lives in search of fame and riches. When I realised that I would be spending time in Toronto, I quickly decided that the opportunity to visit such a famous location was just too good to miss.

    Over the past few years I have had the opportunity to experience Iguassu Falls in South America and also Victoria Falls in Africa. Now I would have the chance to see for myself just how Niagara compared with these other two.

    My day began with an early morning pickup near my hotel. When the sun rose it revealed a completely cloudless blue sky. Gone was the fine drizzle that had persisted for most of the previous day. The clear skies had sent the temperature even a little lower, so it was hovering just above 0 C as I waited for my bus to arrive. I watched a couple of frisky black squirrels hop about in the snow, but they would not stay still long enough for a good photo.

    Although I normally avoid bus trips, in this case there was really no other convenient way for me to get from Toronto to Niagara. At least it was only a small bus and I was the first to board. I probably should not have been surprised to find that it was overheated inside, just like every other interior in the city.

    After following a circuitous path through downtown Toronto we eventually finished with around 19 people who would be sharing the trip to Niagara with me. We later found out that one of these had actually gotten into the wrong bus. They had thought they they were catching a bus to a big mining conference which is also happening in the city, but it was too late for them to change their mind.

    About 90 minutes later we were at the falls. The driver explained that we had around two and a half hours to explore the place before we were to be collected downriver. My first impressions were mixed. While there was no denying that it was an impressive sight, I would have to say that it came in a distinct third place behind Iguassu and Victoria.

    The big advantage Niagara has is that it has been incorporated into some sort of giant theme park, complete with giant hotels, casinos, amusements and thrill seeker attractions. I was thrilled that the place was almost deserted. The combination of the winter off season and fear of the coronavirus had served to deter the throngs that apparently normally jam this place. I thought it was beautiful.

    I was able to quietly wander alongside the falls without the fear of losing an eye to someone's wandering selfie stick. When I entered the large visitor centre there were no queues at the ticket counter or at the kiosk. I decided to spend $15 to take a "Behind the Falls" experience. When I paid for my ticket I discovered that the price had quickly risen to nearly $17 after they added the tax. I thought that was a bit sneaky, because it was not mentioned on the noticeboard.

    Fortunately the experience turned out to be worth it. After riding an elevator most of the way to the base of the falls, you then can explore several tunnels which have been dug under the falls themselves. These give you the chance to emerge at different locations and get soaked with icy water from the cascading torrents. At this time of the year the ice and snow add an extra degree of beauty to the falls themselves.

    Standing underneath the falls it gave me a chance to ponder the famous people who had decided to risk their lives by going over the falls in a barrel. The very first of these was Annie Edson Taylor, a 63 year old schoolteacher who had fallen upon hard times. She thought that she could secure her financial future by being the first to go over the falls in a specially designed barrel, padded with a mattress.

    On October 24th 1901 she took the ultimate step and flew over the falls in her barrel. To everyone's amazement she actually survived with only relatively minor injuries. Many others who tried to repeat the feat in the following years did not end so well. Unfortunately Annie did not make her fortune and she died penniless about 20 years later. Such is life.

    The story of the second person to go over the falls is even more bizarre. Ten years after Annie's exploit, Bobbie Leach repeated the antic. Although he also miraculously survived the fall, he spent the next six months in hospital recovering from his injuries. He spent the next few years travelling and speaking about his feat of daring, but eventually met his end in New Zealand were he died following complications from slipping on an orange peel. Strange but true !

    The Niagara River marks the border between Canada and the USA. The tall buildings I could see on the other side of the river were in America where all eyes were occupied on the battle to see which octogenarian would win the Democratic Party nomination to stand against the geriatric Donald Trump. How had politics in the USA ever come to this ?

    The falls themselves are also steadily moving upstream. Each year the water erodes more of the cliffs so that they are now in a completely different location to where they were several hundred years ago. The flow of water over the falls is also controlled by a huge hydro plant upstream. Perhaps that is why the volume of water is less than I expected to see.

    The rest of the day was spent visiting several other impressive locations. The Niagara whirlpool is formed when the river undertakes a dramatic change of direction. In the summer months it is possible to take a ride over this section, but it was still closed for the winter.

    The final stop was at a beautiful township called Niagara on the Lake. Situated on the banks of the huge Lake Ontario, it was easy to see that this prosperous township was built on an influx of summer tourists and their money. There was no denying that the immaculate homes were stunning. The deserted streets made the place absolutely delightful.

    When we finally got back on the bus again, it did not take me long to fall asleep for most of the way back to Toronto. When we reached the city a gentle flurry of snow was floating down from the sky. It was the perfect ending to a quite amazing day.

    Note - since I can only include ten pictures on each footprint, I will create another footprint for some images of Niagara on the Lake.    Läs mer

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  • The World on Two WheelsCanada, Cuba and Covid 19The World on Two Wheels

    Some Images of Niagara on the Lake

    4 mars 2020, Kanada ⋅ 🌙 1 °C

    Here are some images of the delightful Niagara on the Lake that I could not fit in the previous footprint.

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  • The World on Two WheelsCanada, Cuba and Covid 19The World on Two Wheels

    A Striking Day in Toronto

    5 mars 2020, Kanada ⋅ ⛅ 2 °C

    Since this was to be my last full day in Toronto, I really wanted to do something a little more ambitious. Whenever I find myself in a city that I have not visited before the first thing I like to do is walk. I don't usually have any set destination as it is the journey that I am interested in, not the end point. Today was my chance to really wander and see what makes Toronto tick.

    Of course in order to be able to walk the streets, there was one important requirement I needed - fine weather. You can imagine my smile when I looked out of the apartment window at 6 am and saw that it was going to be a great day. In fact it already had the makings of the best day so far.

    At about 8.30 am I set off. Although the sky was clear the temperature was bracing - hovering around 0 C. I was so glad that I had packed gloves and a beanie. I don't mind the cold air, but frozen ears and fingers are not much fun.

    My only vague plan was to roughly set out in the direction of the rising sun. By watching the shadows on the footpath I knew that I was heading in the right direction. If I kept walking in that way I knew that it would take me through the centre of the city and eventually to the waterfront of Lake Ontario.

    The first couple of km were familiar territory as I passed the Royal Ontario Museum and the University of Toronto. Ahead of me I could catch glimpses of the impressive CN tower. At over 550 metres in height, this building is apparently the tallest free standing concrete building in the world. I was glad that it gave me another place to aim for in my walk.

    About one hour and 4.5 km later I was standing at the foot of the tower. It certainly was a spectacle and I suppose I could have spent some time travelling to its observation deck, but I was more interested in reaching the lake. When I arrived at the shore I discovered that almost everything was still closed for the winter. It was perfect as I had the whole place to myself.

    I found a nice seat in the sunshine and watched the planes taking off from the small airport on Centre Island. Although the sunshine was warm, the air temperature was still low enough to ensure that the piles of snow scattered around were reluctant to melt.

    Eventually I began heading away from the Lake in search of something for lunch. This turned out to be a rather greasy hamburger in a grossly over heated indoor food mall, followed by a very forgettable cup of coffee. I was glad to get back out into the cold again.

    I soon saw a collection of police vehicles and flashing lights. Things started to get interesting. As I walked closer I could see that hundreds of people were marching with placards and angry chants. Most were wearing matching red beanies. Since I had nothing better to do, of course I joined in the march.

    It did not take long to learn that most of the marchers were teachers who were on strike because of budget cuts that had been initiated by the new premier of Ontario Province. Since I was once a teacher in a previous life, I felt like I was in familiar company. They were happy to chat with me and tell me why they were so unhappy. Some things are the same the world over. It was also interesting that the, once popular and charismatic Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, now seems universally disliked.

    My time with the strikers gave me a fascinating alternative insight into life in Toronto. But I was getting tired. After walking around 14 km I was ready to return to my apartment for a rest.

    Tomorrow afternoon I will be catching a flight to Havana to begin the second part of my travels. It has been good to have time to myself but I am looking forward to meeting all the other members of our team and beginning our Cuban Adventure.    Läs mer

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  • The World on Two WheelsCanada, Cuba and Covid 19The World on Two Wheels

    The Night Plane to Havana

    7 mars 2020, Kuba ⋅ 🌙 21 °C

    Today was always going to be a bit messy. The problem was that my flight from Toronto to Havana was not due to leave till around 8.30 pm in the evening. "So what ?", you may well ask. The complicating factor was that I was supposed to be checking out of my apartment at 10 am in the morning, so what was I going to do with all those spare hours ?

    The singularly unhelpful concierge had already told me that there was nowhere I could leave my luggage. At least I thought I could spend a couple of hours sitting in the lobby before my taxi arrived to take me to the airport. That was about as much of a plan I had been able to come up with.

    Unlike the beautiful blue skies of the previous day, I awoke to a leaden cloud cover. On closer look I could see that there were intermittent flurries of snow falling. It was quite spellbinding to watch.

    After making myself my final breakfast in Toronto, I sat by the window and spent some time watching the falling snow gradually build up on the branches of the trees. Although I was supposed to check out at 10 am, there was no point in being too early. I needed to steal every hour I could.

    By 11 am I thought that I could stretch the matter no further, collected my luggage and made my way down to the foyer. I found a quiet corner, opened my computer and started watching a movie. It did not take long for my favourite concierge to come over and ask what I thought I was doing. Of course I told him I was waiting for my taxi. Since no one else needed my seat, I could not see that there was a problem. Of course I was wrong.

    "This is not a hotel", he repeated his now familiar refrain. "You will have to go". While I could have been confrontational and reminded him that it WAS snowing outside, I really had had enough of the pathetic little weasel. He obviously thought that being a concierge was only a step or two below being the Prime Minister, so I decided to pack my stuff as slowly as I possibly could and then roll my way out of the building for the very last time.

    Fortunately there was a very warm shopping centre just across the road, so that is where I went. I purchased a coffee, found a spare table and made it my home. My taxi was due at 1 pm, but did not arrive till 1.30 pm. I had spent the missing thirty minutes waiting in the doorway, while the cold was slowly permeating into every corner of my body. We just don't know what cold is in Australia, but I should have been grateful it was only about -3 C. Last year at this time it was apparently -26 C.

    Alex and I continued our discussions about the cricket all the way to the airport. I completed the self check in without incident and made my way through security and immigration. Another very long wait at the departure gate. Outside the snow was still falling. The time passed slowly. I continued watching my movie.

    The time for boarding finally arrived and we all jammed into the modest plane. There was not a spare seat in sight, but it was only a rather modest three and a half hours, so I did not really care.

    I was seated by a window which gave me a great view of the never ending succession of brightly lit cities we passed over as we flew over the eastern states of the USA. The night was crystal clear, without a single cloud to obscure the view. In some ways there is something cosy and comforting about a night flight. At times I dozed. By almost midnight we started descending into Havana Airport and another adventure was about to begin.

    As I retrieved my bag from the jammed overhead lockers, I noticed that my luggage label had somehow gone missing. I suppose I should be grateful if that was the only thing that went missing - I still had that anxious time of waiting to see if my main luggage would appear on the carousel.

    Back in Australia we had all paid significant money to the Cuban Consulate for a visa to enter their country. You can imagine my surprise when the hostess walked around the plane, handing out blank tourist visa forms and telling us to fill them in ourselves ! It looked like we all may have wasted $100, but it would not have been worth the risk.

    In spite of preliminary fears about the difficulties of entering the country, the immigration process was quick and easy. I was soon reunited with my luggage and went out the exit door into the unfamiliar world of Cuba. I had been told that a driver would be waiting for me (even though it was now about 12.30 in the morning).

    Once again the arrangements went perfectly and soon I was being whisked along in the back seat of a comfortable taxi. Even at this late hour there were plenty of cars on the road and plenty of people wandering the streets. The temperature was a comfortable 22 C. It did not take long to see the old cars that Cuba is famous for. It was like being at some sort of a retro car show. Obviously they just never get junked, they just keep rolling along.

    Our home for the next few days is the huge and very imposing Hotel Nacional de Cuba. This vast place was the place of choice for the rich and famous back in its heyday of the 30s and 40s. Even all these years later, it is still an impressive place. The foyer is massive and filled with colonial character. There was even a working lift !

    I was relieved to discover that my allocated room was clean, huge and had fully working air conditioning. I think I will enjoy my time here, but my first thought was to head for the bed and finally get some sleep.    Läs mer

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  • The World on Two WheelsCanada, Cuba and Covid 19The World on Two Wheels

    In the Footsteps of the Rich and Famous

    7 mars 2020, Kuba ⋅ ⛅ 22 °C

    I have stayed in some pretty incredible hotels over the years, but the Hotel Nacional de Cuba will certainly go down as one of the most memorable. This opulent hotel was opened in 1930 and soon become the place where the rich and famous of the world always stayed when they were in Cuba.

    The list of previous guests includes a huge cavalcade of famous names - Nat King Cole, Winston Churchill, Jimmy Carter, Frank Sinatra, Josephine Baker are just a few of the images I noticed while walking the halls. The Nacional Hotel was also the preferred place for notorious gangsters and Mafia heads as well. It is one of those buildings where every doorway could tell a story.

    Even though those grand days are now well past, the place is still imposing. It has recently undergone a refurbishment and the rooms are certainly comfortable and spacious. Even more importantly the wifi works in every room.

    The hotel seems to have an inordinate number of immaculately dressed staff. It almost feels like there is one staff member for each guest. The place is also liberally stocked with wandering musicians and singers. You cannot go far without hearing live music.

    Behind the hotel there are a series of constructions that give an insight into those notorious days in 1962 when the world nearly descended into nuclear war. It is interesting to hear the story told from the Cuban side as most westerners would only be familiar with the commonly accepted narrative of events.

    I began the day with breakfast, followed by a fascinating tour of the hotel. At noon I ventured out into the nearby streets in search of lunch, but ended up returning to the hotel empty stomached. At least the hotel is liberally catered for.

    Since I am still operating from a state of sleep deprivation, I then returned to my room for a siesta. When I opened my eyes it was after 5 pm ! The best sleep I have had for days.

    All members of our team have now arrived at the hotel, and in the evening we shared our first meal together in a cafe in the garden of the hotel. Overhead the full moon was shining brightly and we could hear the sounds of the large waves crashing onto the rocks nearby. The food itself was rather disappointing, but the ambiance was amazing.

    Tomorrow we begin our first day of cycling in Havana.    Läs mer

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  • The World on Two WheelsCanada, Cuba and Covid 19The World on Two Wheels
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    On our Bikes in Havana

    8 mars 2020, Kuba ⋅ ⛅ 23 °C

    It's now almost a week since I left Melbourne. The long journey to Cuba took me first to Vancouver, then to Toronto, before arriving in Havana two days ago. Although it has been nice to have some time to explore and soak up the history at the Hotel Nacional, of course the real reason for coming all this way was to ride bicycles. And today that is what we did.

    In our previous adventures we have been treated to some pretty large and impressive buses, but I can honestly say that our bus in Cuba is by far the biggest we have ever had. I am not sure if they did not understand the difference between 16 and 60 when they made the bus allocation as I am sure the bus could easily hold the larger number.

    The bus is actually so large that all our bikes can easily be accommodated in the huge lower storage compartments. We have now met all the support staff that will be accompanying us for the next 16 days. Apart from the youthful Lee (our main guide), we also have a bus driver (Coco) and a bike mechanic (Titi). The bikes themselves are TREK brand mountain bikes equipped with semi slick tyres.

    We began the day at 8 am with an obligatory group photo (or series of photos) in front of the hotel, followed by a short drive in the bus to the place where we would be fitting and testing the bikes. My first impression was very favourable, The bike was relatively light and easy to ride and soon we were snaking our way on the streets of Havana.

    It was something of a relief to find that the streets were almost devoid of traffic. Maybe that was because it was not only a Sunday morning, but daylight savings had only just started that morning meaning that many people may have not put their clocks forward and were still happily home in bed.

    Although the traffic was light, the wind certainly was not. In fact it was blowing a gale all day. Our cycling route took us along the coastline towards the old part of Havana. This also meant that we were heading into the wind for about 80% of the ride. We hoped that this onslaught would not become a daily feature of the weather here.

    The roads were liberally spotted with potholes of various sizes, but were probably in better condition than I had expected. During the course of the morning we stopped at a succession of historically significant locations, while Lee explained their history to us. Because I have a limited capacity to store vast amounts of this type of information, I contented myself with just looking at the buildings, rather than trying to remember all the place names and dates. One theme that did keep repeating is that the history of Cuba and Havana in particular, dates back over 500 years. The city is liberally dotted with ancient buildings that have made it a World Heritage Site.

    When our cycling was complete we adjourned for lunch in a cafe which was apparently one of the favourite haunts of Ernest Hemingway who did much of his writing in Cuba. The afternoon was spent in a walking tour of the old city, however the wind was now blowing so hard that it was hard to stand upright.

    Tomorrow's ride will take us on a much longer foray into the Cuban countryside.    Läs mer

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  • The World on Two WheelsCanada, Cuba and Covid 19The World on Two Wheels

    Cuban Showers, Lobsters and a Super Moon

    9 mars 2020, Kuba ⋅ 🌙 23 °C

    I suppose I could have claimed that I had planned it that way, however that would have been a bit of a lie. The truth is that it was just one of those glorious coincidences that often seem to happen during travel.

    We had been told that we were being taken to a lovely rooftop restaurant in old Havana. That was all we knew. At 7 pm out bus collected us from the hotel and took us back to the now familiar centre of the city. A short walk took us to the selected restaurant, followed by a challenging climb up several flights of stairs on a very narrow and very steep staircase.

    We emerged on the very top of the building where a long table had been prepared for us. Soon we were happily chatting away when I noticed the clouds part to reveal a glorious full moon. There was something magical about seeing a huge full moon over the rooftops of such a famous city. It was only later that I learned that the moon really WAS special - it was one of those "super moons" that only occur at certain times when the moon is closer than usual to the earth.

    The meal itself was also rather special. I chose the "number 7", which was a full seafood spectacular. complete with prawns and a huge lobster tail. It was the best meal I had eaten since arriving in Cuba. I had heard a lot about Cuban lobsters, but this was my first chance to actually taste it for myself.

    This I awoke to some good news and some bad news. The good news was that the howling wind that had almost blown us off the island yesterday had slightly abated. The bad news was that it had been replaced by a succession of light passing showers. It always seems that every extended ride is accompanied by at least one wet day, and it looked like toady was going to be that day.

    While I don't mind getting slightly damp, the thought of being saturated right down to my shoes did not have much appeal. Before we actually began the ride we were transported to an elevated location near a giant statue of Jesus. The thing that makes this statue someone special is that it was created by a woman.

    We unpacked the bikes and donned our wet weather gear. The first stop was a nearby display of old military items from the cold war days. It also included the remains of the US spy plane famously shot down during the missile crisis. We also created something of another international incident when several of our team (including me) accidentally climbed onto the sacred military monument and were chastised by the angry guard.

    The next hour or so alternated between showers and sunshine. When the sun did appear, the humidity shot up and we were soon sweating away inside our jackets. The rain did eventually disappear completely and we were able to dispense with the coats.

    One of the biggest hazards of cycling in Cuba is not the risk of being run over by a car, as the drivers are generally very courteous and give us a wide berth. The real danger is that of being asphyxiated by a lungful of noxious black smoke from the ancient vehicles. I suspect that some of them have not had an oil change in decades and the fumes really are nauseating.

    After riding for a considerable distance along a busy highway, we were relieved when we finally turned off onto a much quieter road. This gave us our first real experience with rural Cuba. Several old horse drawn carts passed by. Numerous "holas" were exchanged in greeting. Our riders were in high spirits and thoroughly enjoying being out of the traffic.

    Our destination for the morning was an organic farm, that was well known for the innovative ways that they raised a wide variety of crops, fruits and livestock. It really was fascinating and the lunch they served was wonderful. The highlight was a whole pig that they had prepared for us, complete with crackling ! I could not help but return for seconds.

    Later in the afternoon we were taken back into Havana for a Salsa Class. This was conducted on a rooftop terrace, complete with loud music and a collection of Cuban dancer partners. For a shy introvert like myself, this was about as much fun as a visit to the all night dentist. I was happy to sit and guard the bags while the rest of the group hopped and gyrated around.

    This evening some of the group went to a show in the old town, while the rest did their own thing. Tomorrow morning we will be checking out of this fine old hotel and moving on to the next leg of our adventure.    Läs mer

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  • The World on Two WheelsCanada, Cuba and Covid 19The World on Two Wheels

    A Hundred Fires by the Caribbean Sea

    10 mars 2020, Kuba ⋅ 🌙 23 °C

    Our time in Havana at the Hotel Nacional was certainly memorable, however all things must eventually come to an end and it was time for us to now move on to our next location. We were planning to check out of the hotel at 8.15 am and be on our way, however we soon discovered that leaving the hotel is nowhere near as easy as checking into it.

    In order to get permission to leave the lobby for the final time you must first be issued with an exit ticket from the cashier. This can only be issued once the mini bar contents have been examined by a security expert and the report relayed back to the management. A simple infringement such as an unaccounted bottle of water can mean that you would be bound and held indefinitely.

    This process held us up for a considerable amount of time as each person's room was checked and signed off. If I was being entirely honest I would admit that the final felon was actually myself. When I handed my room card back to the cashier, they simply said "Thank You" and waved me away. I assumed that I was free and clear. I assumed wrong. It was only when I was seated on the bus that a stern faced security guard escorted me back to the cashier. There was not one, but TWO, bottles of water missing from my mini bar. I guess that means I will never be able to regain entry to Cuba at any time in the future.

    Eventually all accounts were paid in full and our bus was given permission to leave. Our first destination was the notorious "Bay of Pigs" . This was the location of the ill fated invasion of Cuba by a group of Cuban exiles. The entire debacle was orchestrated by the CIA with the assumption that the local population would quickly side with the invaders to overthrow the government. It never went that way. Within two days the invasion had failed and the invaders were all either killed or captured.

    Standing by the blue waters of the Caribbean it was hard to imagine the bloodshed that had taken place on this sport almost 60 years ago. That location also marked the spot where we began the day's ride. The route was simple - just keep the sea on our right hand sides and follow the coast to the resort of Caleta Buena.

    The ride was not long but the difficulty was increased by the heat and humidity and the deplorable state of the road. It was impossible to dodge the pot holes, as they vastly outnumbered the bitumen. The vibrations made my hands and backside ache in complaint.

    The resort itself is a playground of the privileged where the entry fee entitles you to lunch and unlimited drinks from the many bars. It is the place where overtanned men and women in far too small swimsuits wobble about with pina coladas, trying their best to look cool. I suspect that very few real Cubans would ever set foot in the front door.

    We then returned to the bus for a short drive to Cienfuegos. This is a relatively modern town situated in an impossibly beautiful location. The name means "One Hundred Fires", although these must have now all been extinguished because I didn't see a single one.

    Our home for the next two nights is the Hotel Jagua. The entrance certainly is impressive, the lifts are the most hideously decorated I have ever seen and the rooms are an exercise in contrasts. While the view from the room is absolutely breathtaking, when you look closer the standard of workmanship leaves a lot to be desired. My shower door fell off, the water was only slightly warm, the light was hanging off the roof and my patio door needed both hands to drag it open. When I washed my cycling jersey I noticed that the water from the tap was about the colour of a cup of tea and it added several new stains to the front and back of the jersey. At least there can be no repeat of the grand larceny from the minibar that happened in Havana. The minibar here looks like it has not been used for a long time. But the air conditioning worked extremely well and the view really was incredible. The bed is huge. In fact I really like it here.

    Our dinner was at a nearby restaurant where the ambiance far exceeded the quality of the food. They somehow missed serving the four people at our table. We complained and were eventually served but it appeared that the supply of food had just about run out by that time. Each plate had a meager portion spread around to make it look like there was a genuine dinner. A bit disappointing to say the least. At the end of the meal a blackout threw the place into darkness. Apparently these are common in Cuba where all the power comes from oil powered generators.

    As we walked back to the hotel Venus shone brightly over the water while the huge moon shone down from the opposite direction. It had been quite a day.    Läs mer

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  • The World on Two WheelsCanada, Cuba and Covid 19The World on Two Wheels

    A Day in Cienfuegos

    11 mars 2020, Kuba ⋅ 🌙 23 °C

    Travelling in Cuba really is certainly a little bit different to travelling in western countries. I guess because the country has been cut off from the rest of the world for so long, they have no ready yardstick to compare their performance against the elusive “world’s best practise”. The Jagua Hotel is a great example of this. While in some respects it is a good 4 star hotel, in other areas it fails miserably. The air conditioning works well enough to ensure you can have a cool nights rest, but when you step under the shower, the water temperature never rises above luke warm. The shower door itself falls off whenever the door is opened or closed. My bed is comfortable and massive but the door to my patio requires a test of herculean strength to get it to open or close. The bathroom is large, but it stinks of tobacco, presumably thanks to the smoking habits of a previous occupant.

    Although the room has a number of these niggling issues, the view is just so superb, that it is easy to overlook them all. We have two nights here before we move on to Trinidad and our first taste of the famous Casa Particulaires (home stays) that we have heard so much about.

    After breakfast we cycled into the centre of Cienfuegos for a look around the central square. We arrived in the middle of a book fair, with a collection of sellers stocked up with what looked like school text books. One of the buildings in the square is a school and it was interesting to see the well dressed pupils wandering around the exhibits. Education is completely free in Cuba and this extends to the provision of the school uniforms as well.

    We then headed out of town to the famous botanical gardens. The hot and humid weather combined with a succession of hills to make the modest ride a lot more challenging than it should have been. When planning this trip I had been worried about how I would cope in these sultry conditions and the answer was now very clear – not very well.

    After a nice lunch in the garden cafeteria we were taken on a guided tour by a very enthusiastic guide. The combination of heat, humidity and non stop talking soon took its toll on me. I seldom take guided tours at any time and I found my mind wandering. The sultry air seemed suffocating and I desperately looked for a chance to sneak away unnoticed. I walked back to the café and had a couple of drinks in an attempt to wake myself up again. They didn’t work.

    Although I could have punished myself by riding back to the hotel, I really found myself lacking motivation. I can see no virtue in self flagellation at any time. We had paid good money for the services of our bus and driver. It was air conditioned in there, while the air outside was enervating. So in I went (along with several others). It was delightful. I dozed in the cool while the others sweltered their way along a hilly road back to Cienfuegos. It was a brilliant decision.

    Later in the evening we dined at one of the most amazing restaurants I have ever seen. Rather than try to describe it, I will simply say look at the pictures below.    Läs mer

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  • The World on Two WheelsCanada, Cuba and Covid 19The World on Two Wheels

    Cienfuegos to Trinidad

    12 mars 2020, Kuba ⋅ 🌙 21 °C

    After our two nights at the Hotel Jagua, it was time to move on to the next leg of our Cuban Adventure. Since the minibars in the rooms had never been stocked, we had none of the inquisition process that had delayed our departure from the Hotel Nacional de Cuba. Our bags were quickly bundled into the waiting bus and we were on our way.

    The plan was to transfer by bus to the outskirts of Cienfuegos so that we would not have to battle our way through the busy morning traffic. It was a great idea. A short time later we were ready to begin the day’s ride. In normal conditions 60 km might not sound like a challenging day’s ride, but the combination of regular undulations, high temperatures and even higher humidity makes riding rather taxing. In the afternoon the hot tropical sun really seems to burn right into the centre of your body. The very best time for any sort of energetic activity is in the cooler morning. After lunch the riding is much harder.

    To my relief the condition of the road was quite good. The potholes that we had battled a couple of days ago were replaced with long sections of smooth bitumen. It is quite amazing how much quicker progress you can make when the surface is smoother. One thing that has surprised us all is the number of horse drawn vehicles we see, especially when we get into the rural areas. The only vehicles we saw all day were the occasional truck, a few buses, numerous old 1940s cars and dozens of horse drawn carts. One cart even had a “spare engine” following along behind, presumably ready to take over when the first engine ran out of energy.

    After stopping for lunch at a thatched roof roadhouse, we continued to the outskirts of Trinidad. By that time the heat had really started to tax everyone’s stamina. I managed to survive by pouring water down the front of my jersey and relying on evaporative cooling to keep my temperature under control. It did make a difference, but I was very happy to finish the ride and climb inside the bus for the final couple of km to Trinidad.

    For the next three nights we will be staying in the Casas Particulaires that Cuba is famous for. These are private homes that have been converted to bed and breakfast accommodations for travellers. We had been told that the hospitality of the hosts is amazing, and now we were about to find out for ourselves if it was true.

    The process began when we assembled at the central Casa while the bargaining for rooms went on between our guide and the casa owners. After about 30 mins they apparently reached agreement. We were then lined up and allocated one by one to the line of waiting hosts. It was just like those dreadful days in primary school when they picked the school teams. I was sure that I was always picked last, when there were no other genuine sporty types left to pick.

    I was allocated with Janna and Linda to a nearby casa. We followed Jenny (our hostess) trying our best to carefully watch which way we were walking. In these narrow streets every doorway looks the same and it would be so easy to get completely lost. The thought of spending hours knocking on every door in Trinidad trying to find the right one would be very daunting.

    On arrival at our allocated rooms we discovered that they actually were very clean and comfortable. They were even equipped with private bathrooms and air conditioning. I did have some initial hiccups when I discovered that there was no hot water in my shower and the toilet did not flush, however these were quickly sorted out by the owner.

    We all returned to the central casa for a combined dinner, before retiring for the night. It had been a very long day and I was looking forward to our first “rest day” the following day.

    Images to follow when Internet access is better    Läs mer

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    A Rest Day in Trinidad

    13 mars 2020, Kuba ⋅ ⛅ 29 °C

    After the non stop activity of the first few days in Cuba, I had been eagerly looking forward to our first rest day. It is always a lovely feeling to have so much time and so little to do with it. While we had options to partake in several activities, including a catamaran trip to a nearby island, for me it would be a great chance to partake of my favourite activities – walking and people watching.

    My first night in the casa particulaire must have been a restful one. I awoke to the unfamiliar sound of horsesteps outside my window. It brought back vivid memories of life in Melbourne in the 1950s when I often heard the milkman and his horse doing their early morning milk deliveries. When I checked my mobile phone for the time it was after 7 am ! For someone who usually wakes before 6 am, this was certainly an indulgence.

    It was when I checked my email that I received the worst possible news that one of our much loved and respected riders had passed away the previous day in Melbourne. Helen Wilkie had been undergoing a long battle with cancer for over a year. Although she had made some temporary recoveries, her condition had worsened. I had last spoken with her just a few days before we left Australia and I could not believe that she would no longer be a part of our Ghostrider family. Helen was not just a keen cyclist, she was also very involved in Rotary and had been a regular participant in their annual ride for health. One of her last acts was to arrange her funeral so that it could take place after this year’s ride was completed. We will all miss her immensely.

    I then joined Linda and Janna who were already having breakfast and shared the news with them. We had been told about how good the breakfasts were in the Casas, but this was my first chance to experience one for myself. It really was superb. Jenny and Carlos had prepared a full table of fruits, bread, pancakes, pastries and juice. A fresh omelette was also supplied to order.

    Linda and Janna then left to join the catamaran trip while I caught up on emails and other matters. I then set out to explore more of Trinidad and found myself walking back through the park and up to the Plaza Major. Outside the telecom shop a long queue was already forming to purchase Internet access cards. Each card costs 1 CUC (about $2) and gives 1 hour of (slow) access time.

    The main plaza is on an elevated part of the city and gives a great view over the rooftops and out to the Caribbean Sea. A huge market was being set up. I walked back and forth, returning every cheerful “Hola” that was directed in my direction. Although there was a huge number of traders, most of them were selling the same items, so it became rather repetitive.

    Very soon the heat started to build and I stopped for a cold drink, before slowly finding my way back to the casa. The heat seems to be getting a bit worse every day and this does not auger well for the next few days of cycling. After a brief rest, I ventured back in search of somewhere for lunch. I found a lovely old restaurant with a towering ceiling and ordered an Hawaiian pizza and a coffee. They were both delicious and the young waiter spoke quite good English.

    On my return walk I thought I would join the queue for an Internet card. I waited in the line for 20 minutes, but it did not move. No one seemed to know what the problem was. People started knocking on the door, without response. I gave up and walked back to the casa, dodging numerous horses and motorcycles along the way. It was time for an afternoon siesta.

    Since the Internet is so precious here, I will have to upload pictures at a future time.    Läs mer

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    Disaster Strikes the Peloton

    14 mars 2020, Kuba ⋅ ⛅ 26 °C

    Our plan today was to cycle out of Trinidad to a location called the Valle de los Ingenios. To my relief the early morning was relatively cool and overcast, making the morning cycling quite pleasant. After battling our way out of the Trinidad traffic, we were soon coasting along smooth bitumen. Although Lee had promised us a nice easy ride, as usual he was lying. Very soon we started to encounter some lengthy climbs, followed by fast descents. In the near distance we could see a quite impressive mountain range so I hope that we will not be riding anywhere near that in the next couple of days.

    Our first stop was at a huge tower. We were told that in Spanish colonial times this was actually the tallest structure in the whole of Cuba. It was built over a period of 14 years by brothers and used as a watchtower to observe the slaves working in the nearby sugar plantations.

    After paying a fee of 1 CUC I climbed to the top of the tower to admire the panoramic views and enjoy the fresh cool breeze. On the way up I managed to bash my head several times on the low beams. The shorter members of the team had no such difficulties.

    This is obviously a tourist trap, as evidenced by the regular arrival of tourist buses from Trinidad. In order to reach the tower you first had to run the gauntlet of dozens of eager local trying to offload cotton tablecloths and the like. We were surprised when a large tourist train pulled into a small station and disgorged even more people into the fray.

    Lee had given instructions that everyone had to be ready to continue the ride at 10:40 am. By around 11 am most of our team had straggled back and we were finally ready to go. The first 15 km or so meant repeating the route we had followed from Trinidad (including riding back up the same hills). At one location we were treated to some lovely cold bananas from the bus and these were eagerly devoured by the group.

    We eventually took a left hand fork in the road and started to head towards the beach. It was at this point that things took a terrible turn for the worse. We were not expecting to encounter train tracks, especially not ones that crossed our path at an oblique angle. I was the first rider to encounter the dangerous tracks. My rear wheel slid out alarmingly, but somehow I managed to regain my balance. I immediately called out a warning to those behind me, but it was already too late. I could already hear the shocking sounds of a pelotonic pile up of biblical proportions.

    By the time I had stopped and turned around, riders were scattered all over the bitumen. Some were dazed, but apparently OK. One rider had obviously suffered the worst and was lying motionless on the road. This is the worst sight that I could have had. A closer view showed that it was Bob that had crashed the hardest and he was moaning and groaning in pain. My immediate worry was that he had broken his collar bone or dislocated his shoulder. We formed a guard around him to protect him from the hot sun, while Marg (an experienced nurse) checked him over.

    We had been told that medical services in Cuba are very good, but we really didn’t want to check this personally. However Bob was in trouble and he needed help. An ambulance was called from the nearby hospital and it arrived about 20 minutes later. By that time Bob had rallied around somewhat and had been able to test that most of his bodily bits were still functioning (or functioning as well as they usually do at his age). The initial shock had also passed and he became more lucid. The ambulance personal performed a few tests and then seemed happy for Bob to be assisted to the bus, instead of heading with them to the hospital.

    It really had been a worrying time, but we were all greatly relieved that Bob was OK. Although we love to tease him, Bob is a genuine Ghostrider legend and we adore the guy immensely. He also demonstrated that he is a tough old buzzard and it takes more than a steel railway line to put him down permanently. The other riders who came down had a few cuts and abrasions, but were able to continue the ride.

    The remainder of the ride to the beach was completed in rather subdued fashion. We were all conscious of how quickly accidents can occur and we were still somewhat concerned about Bob’s condition. After a couple of hours at the huge resort hotel, it was time to leave. The regular afternoon heat had built up again and I quickly made the decision to quit the ride at that point and sit in the bus for the final 15 km.

    When putting this trip together I knew that the heat and humidity was going to play a significant role in how hard each day’s ride was. That was the reason that we organised to have a bus available at all times. I am not sure about the rest of the group, but I came to Cuba to enjoy myself, not to suffer under a blazing sun when I don’t have to. There were about 5 others who also took the smart decision to sit in the bus.

    Tonight is our last night at the Casa Particulaire in Trinidad. Although the standard can vary from one hostel to another, I have been very happy with the place we have been allocated and the hosts really have been amazing.

    Pictures to follow when we have better Internet access    Läs mer

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  • The World on Two WheelsCanada, Cuba and Covid 19The World on Two Wheels

    In Search of Che Guevara

    15 mars 2020, Kuba ⋅ ☀️ 26 °C

    After three days in Trinidad, we were really starting to feel at home in the place. The streets that had looked so confusing when we arrived, now felt familiar. My home for the three nights had been the magnificent casa particulaire owned by Carlos and Jenny Amenidides. They really had welcomed us and proven to be exceptional hosts.

    We bade our final farewell after breakfast and walked our luggage back to the waiting bus. Our destination for the day was the famous city of Santa Clara - the place where the image of Che Guevera is everywhere. But before we could begin the day;'s ride we had a tortuous bus transfer up high into the mountains.

    Anyone who thinks that Cuba is all flat, has no idea what they are talking about. The driver had to use all his skill to negotiate the narrow roads and the tight switchbacks. At times the gradients were so steep that I was worried that the bus would not be able to struggle to the top of the next climb. The roof of the bus regularly bashed on the low overhanging branches.

    At one spectacular vantage point we stopped to climb to the top of a viewing platform where we could see all the way back to Trinidad and the Caribbean Sea beyond. It was an ideal spot for another group photo.

    Then it was back in the bus for another 30 minutes of serious climbing. I was certainly glad we didn't have to ride THAT section ! Eventually the bus stopped and we were told to get ready to ride. I looked ahead at the next section of road and noted that it went straight uphill. Lee had told us that the day's ride would be a DOWNHILL ride, but once again he had lied.

    For the next two hours we alternated between long fast descents and steep climbs. Although the climbs were not long, some of them were very steep. I am happy to admit that one two occasions I got off and walked to the top.

    The scenery that we were riding through was probably the prettiest of the ride so far. Not only did we have regular views down to the lowlands, but we passed through a succession of small villages where the locals greeted us cheerfully as we passed by. Numerous horse drawn carts carried all sorts of goods back and forth.

    The road itself was sometimes unsealed and sometimes bitumen. The poor condition of the road reminded me of some of the mountain roads we had ridden in Bhutan.

    At one point I could hear happy singing coming from a small house and I stopped to listen. It did not take long to realise that it was a church gathering. The people sang and clapped with obvious joy and the harmonies were beautiful. Several young children wandered in and out, waving and smiling at me. It really was a wonderful glimpse of local life.

    I stopped outside the church for 20 minutes or so until the rest of the riders joined me and we continued together. As we descended, the heat that we had experienced each afternoon steadily built up. Apparently there has been very little rain and this shows in the dry and dusty conditions we have seen everywhere.

    Eventually we reached the sizeable city of Manicuragua, where I met a T intersection. I thought it would be good to film some of the street life. In the process I did not notice that our riders had stopped by the side of the road. I kept going through the town, before finally realising that I was alone. It was a slightly scary feeling and I had to turn around and retrace my route until I found the rest of the group.

    A short distance later we finished the ride and loaded the bikes into the bus. We then had a short drive to Santa Clara, the famous location where Che Guevara successfully waged a guerrilla war against the Battista regime. The image of Che is now everywhere and a huge mausoleum has been built in the revolution square to house his remains. This has become a place of pilgrimage for those who think that Che was some sort of superhuman.

    We visited the memorial where we had to walk in silence past his remains, before finally checking into our lovely hotel. It has been another long day.

    I should also add that word of the outside world is slowly reaching us. I can assure you that we are all well and healthy and have plenty of food and toilet paper. The biggest worry is that our flights and travel plans over the next couple of weeks may be impacted. Interesting times indeed.

    Pictures to follow .    Läs mer

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  • The World on Two WheelsCanada, Cuba and Covid 19The World on Two Wheels

    Time to Call it Quits

    16 mars 2020, Kuba ⋅ 🌙 21 °C

    Over the past few days a dark cloud had been growing steadily, not just over Cuba, but over the whole planet. It was called the COVID 19 virus. The first mentions of this epidemic were just hitting the news as we departed Australia, but no one could have foreseen just how rapidly the situation was going to involve.

    Even though we were on the other side of the planet, I endeavored to keep up to date with the latest developments whenever I could get Internet access. In a place like Cuba the Internet is something of a luxury and access can only be purchased an hour at a time by means of a coded scratch ticket.

    Over the previous couple of days we had been informed that the first cases of COVID19 had been reported in Cuba. We noticed a rapid increase in the number of people wearing face masks. Restaurants started insisting that everyone entering the premises had to have their hands disinfected. My level of anxiety increased with each successive elevation of the alert level.

    Today we travelled from Santa Clara to Las Terrazas (The Terraces). Although we were due to spend the afternoon cycling, I decided that I needed to spend the time getting as much information as possible, so that any decision I made would be rationally based. The next 3 hours were spent in my room at the beautiful Hotel Moka, searching for accurate information.

    The first thing I found was that my planned cross Canada rail trip had already been cancelled. For me that was one of the main reasons I was taking this trip in the first place, so the cancellation was bitterly disappointing. I also received another email from World Expeditions advising all participants to look for earlier flights home. The final straw came in the form of a notice from the Australian Government raising the threat level for the entire world to level four - the highest possible.

    In the space of a couple of hours I could feel that this trip was being taken from my hands. I looked around the room and gazed at the spectacular view outside. Although it was breathtaking, I knew just how far I was away from home. All it would take is a disruption anywhere along the way to make a return to Australia impossible. I decided that I would return to Havana as quickly as possible and seek alternate flights back to Melbourne.

    Anyone who has tried to ring airlines would know how difficult it is in normal circumstances. In times of crisis it is absolutely impossible. Fortunately my family back home were able to work on my behalf to find earlier flights.

    When the rest of the team arrived I told them what I had discovered and I informed them that I would be returning to Havana. Each participant then had to decide whether to continue or not. I have to admit that I was more than a little surprised when the rest of the group decided to continue with the trip.

    I returned to my room to pack my bags for the final time, knowing full well that it would be a very long time before I would be able to lay my head on a pillow again. A taxi had been arranged to pick me up at 1 am for the long journey back to Havana.    Läs mer

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  • The World on Two WheelsCanada, Cuba and Covid 19The World on Two Wheels

    A Midnight Drive to Havana

    17 mars 2020, Kuba ⋅ ⛅ 28 °C

    My original plans had been to leave Havana on Tuesday 24th March via an Air Canada flight to Toronto. From there I had booked to ride the Trans Canada Railway on a spectacular 4 day trip across the country to Vancouver. Once this part of the trip became impossible, I tried to contact Air Canada to get an earlier flight. It would probably have been easier to try to call Queen Elizabeth. Not only was it impossible to contact Air Canada, but it was also impossible to contact Webjet, where I had booked my flights. Neither of them were taking calls, nor were they responding to emails or other messages. The stress started to rapidly build.

    In the meantime my taxi arrived at the Hotel La Moka at the ungodly hour of 1 am. I bundled my luggage into an old taxi where I was met with, not one, but two drivers. At times like this you realise just how vulnerable you are. They could have taken me anywhere and I would have been defenseless.

    As the taxi pulled out into the darkness I strained to look for any landmarks that I recognised from the previous day. I wanted to see that we were heading in the direction of Havana. My mind was put a little at ease when I discovered that one of the drivers spoke a little English and we were able to have a limited chat during the long drive.

    Although the road back to Havana was one of Cuba's major highways, driving in Cuba in unlike driving on our roads. Drivers constantly weave from one side of the road to the other, attempting to avoid the worst potholes. At times we were almost driving along the verge at the side of the road. At least the driver seemed cautious and was driving at a modest speed.

    About 90 minutes (and 100 Euros) later we were back at Havana. Since it was still too early to go to the airport, I decided to stop at the Hotel Nacional instead. Since I already had two nights booked and paid for that I would no longer be using, I thought it would be very reasonable to ask for the use of a room for a few hours. They could keep the payment for the nights that I would no longer use. I was wasting my time. Apparently such a request was just "not possible".

    Since I was too tired to argue, I dragged my luggage out to the rear courtyard, sat in one of their giant chairs and started to wait. I had already gone close to 24 hours without sleep.

    At sunrise I decided that it was time to get to the airport. Another taxi ride (and another 30 euros) later I was walking into the terminal of Havana airport. While all this was going on, Maggie had been busy at home working with Flight Centre to try to find an alternate series of flights that would get me home as quickly as possible. They eventually made a plan which would see me first flying to Mexico city, then flying to San Francisco and finally to Melbourne. Since I could waste no more time trying to contact Air Canada, I reluctantly accepted the alternative.

    Although I now had a feasible way of getting back home, the flight to Mexico was not due to depart till 7:15 that evening. That meant another 12 hours of sitting in Havana airport before I could get underway. People who have never spent some of the best years of their lives waiting in aiports would probably never appreciate just how boring these waits can be. The time moves inordinately slowly and the few seats are probably the most uncomfortable you will ever find anywhere.

    By the time my flight was finally called my backside was numb. Although I had already been awake for over 36 hours, I knew that the most taxing part of my trip was only just beginning. I tried to console myself with the thought that every little step was a step closer to home.    Läs mer

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  • The World on Two WheelsCanada, Cuba and Covid 19The World on Two Wheels

    Mexico City

    18 mars 2020, Mexico ⋅ ☀️ 14 °C

    As far as flights go, my flight from Havana to Mexico City was about as good as a budget airline can be. I was just relieved to be finally on my way after so much time waiting at Havana airport. When I stepped into the plane it was evident that airlines were already shutting down. The plane was less than 50% full and I was pleased to discover that I had three exit row seats to myself. After 40 hours with no sleep, I might finally get a chance to catch a couple of hours sleep..... Or so I thought.

    As it turned out, the sleep did not come. Although I was exhausted, there were just too many thoughts crowding in my head. Our world was changing so rapidly that it was impossible to absorb it all. My main fear was that the borders and airlines would shut down completely before I completed my flights to Melbourne. It was a terrifying prospect.

    Three and a half hours later we were landing in Mexico city. When I landed I leaned that my ESTA application had been successful. This is a necessary security clearance that evryone who travels through the USA must have. My original plan had been to wait a day in Mexico while the ESTA was processed, but since the ESTA was already granted, I contacted Flight Centre again to bring the next flights forward. I did not want to linger a minute longer than necessary.

    After several emails, I was given a space on a flight to Houston, followed by a flight to LA and then home to Melbourne. Since the flight to Houston was not due to leave until 11 am the next morning, that meant another 10 hours of waiting in Mexico airport.

    I collected my luggage and then wandered the airport. It was around midnight and things were shutting down. Worried travelers wandered about in a daze, presumably looking for a place to spend the night. I have often wondered why airports make so little provision for comfortable seating and Mexico was a typical example.

    I did manage to get some food and a coffee, before looking for a relatively quiet place to rest. Using my luggage as a pillow I settled down on the cold tiles to try to rest. It had now been over 40 hours since I had last slept and I was feeling like I was on the verge of collapse.

    Somehow between midnight and sunrise I managed to grab a couple of hours sleep, but was awakened by a security guard who was obviously not happy for me to use her airport as a hotel. When I checked my watch I still had several hours to go before my scheduled flight to Houston.

    After what seemed like another eternity, I was finally able to check in for the Houston flight and at least get rid of my large luggage. The normally bustling airport was getting quieter and quieter. When I arrived at the designated departure gate with my boarding pass I could see that there were very few other passengers. It was going to be a quiet flight, or so I thought.

    It was only when I presented my boarding pass that things again took a turn for the worse. No one wants to see the dreaded words "UNKNOWN PASSENGER" come up on the computer screen, but that's exactly what happened. My heart started to thump in my chest.

    The steward pulled me to one side and started tapping away on the keyboard. She seemed confused at first but finally discovered that the problem was due to the fact that my connecting flight from Houston to LA had already been cancelled ! She started looking for another option and finally found a combination of flights through San Francisco that would get me to LA in time to catch my final flight to Melbourne.

    Since my luggage had already been checked onto the Houston flight I began to have serious doubts as to whether I would ever see it again. I could not help but feel like I was in one of those Indiana Jones movies where I was only one small step ahead of the collapsing bridge. The whole system seemed to be shutting down in front of my eyes.

    I was eventually given a new boarding pass for a flight to San Francisco. When I looked at the arrival time I could see that there was going to less than 60 minutes between flights. In that time I would have to clear immigration, collect my luggage, go through US Customs, recheck my luggage for the next flight and then find the right departure gate for the flight to LA.

    At least my flight from Mexico was still due to take off on time. There was still hope of making the connection, but it was going to be tight.    Läs mer

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  • The World on Two WheelsCanada, Cuba and Covid 19The World on Two Wheels

    Hello and Goodbye to San Francisco

    18 mars 2020, Förenta staterna ⋅ ⛅ 11 °C

    After being rejected from my flight to Houston, I again had to resort to the waiting game till it was time to board my new flight to San Francisco. If it was hard for me to keep up with the constant changes of flights, I could only imagine how hard it would have been for the baggage handlers to keep my luggage heading in the right direction.

    When I arrived at the departure gate I was met with a sight that I have never seen before - there was not a single passenger to be seen. Apart from the check in lady, there was absolutely nobody else. I started to fear that the flight had either been cancelled or had already taken off, however when I showed my boarding pass, she invited me to immediately board the waiting plane.

    From time to time I have had the rare privilege of flying on a scarcely filled plane, however I had never been on an empty one before. According to my count there could have been no more than about 8 passengers on the entire plane. I had the entire rear half of the plane to myself. In more normal circumstances this would have been like winning the lottery, however to me it just looked sad. There was no way that United Airlines could run many more flights like that one as it would have been costing them a fortune. The rather morose flight attendants would also have been aware that they were about to be laid off from their jobs.

    The flight took off on time and I was hoping that the pilot might be able to make up some time by flying with his foot to the floor. After all the plane must have been much lighter than expected. I was still worried about making my way through San Francisco airport in such a limited time.

    I can't remember much about the flight, but I do remember flying in to land in San Francisco. My first impression was that the entire city seemed to be surrounded and covered with water. I looked hard to see the famous Golden Gate Bridge, but it was nowhere to be seen.

    The empty plane bounced to a standstill on the tarmac. I started looking at my watch. The pilot taxied up to the terminal building. Another five minutes had passed by. We waited. There were a few loud bumps outside the plane. We were still waiting. Another 5 minutes had passed.

    Finally the pilot came on the PA to announce that there was a problem with the skybridge. They were waiting for an engineer to sort it out but that there "might be a 20 minute delay". My heart sank even further.

    Finally they must have got the skybridge working and the 8 passengers were able to get off the plane. I started running through the almost deserted airport terminal. The first step was to go throug immigration where I was thoroughly scrutinized and fingerprinted. Then I went in search of the baggage collection. Time was passing.

    The main thing in my favour was the fact that the airport was SO QUIET. When I reached the lugagge carousel my bag was already there. I grabbed it and proceeded to re check it for the next flight to LA. It started to look like I might do it after all.

    The final step was to go through security screening for the next flight. It was a case of "empty your pockets, remove your belt and shoes and enter the Xray scanner". It was the most thorough security check I had ever experienced, but it all took time.

    After a final frisk search with my trousers about to fall down to my ankles, they finally gave me permission to grab my stuff and continue my run to the departure gate. By this time I had gone well over two days without sleep and I was feeling like I hardly knew my own name. It is incredible what your body can do when it is running on pure adrenaline. Somehow I found the correct departure gate and was happy to see that the flight had not left without me.

    I immediately walked into the flight to LA. I was still doubtful that my luggage was still following me, but at least I was still on course to catch my final flight back home. It was only a very short flight but I think I might have finally succumbed to exhaustion and managed to shut my eyes. The next thing I remembered was the plane taxiing along the runway at LA. We had already landed without me even knowing it.

    Only one flight to go !    Läs mer

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  • The World on Two WheelsCanada, Cuba and Covid 19The World on Two Wheels

    Last Plane from LA

    18 mars 2020, Förenta staterna ⋅ 🌙 12 °C

    After the stressful tight transit at San Francisco, by the time we landed in LA I was finally starting to believe that I really was on my way home. All that remained was one final 2 hour transit and I would be winging my way towards Melbourne.

    The short flight from San Francisco was soon over and I was finding my way to the final departure gate for my 16 hour marathon flight. Any hopes of another empty plane were soon dashed when I saw the huge crowd of passengers that were already waiting to depart. It was comforting to hear the unmistakable sounds of the Australian accents that were all around me. It almost felt that I was among friends already.

    Over the past few days borders were being closed all over the world at a frightening rate. Governments were scrambling to show their citizens that firm action was being taken. In the back of my mind I was still worried that the plane may not actually lift off from LA after all. I knew I would not really relax until we were off the runway.

    At least flight UA98 started boarding on time. The huge throng of passengers started snaking aboard. Clearly every seat was going to be taken, but I was just happy to be starting the final leg of what had been a true marathon of a journey. I found myself seated by the bulkhead, next to a young couple with a tiny infant. By that time I would not really have cared if I had been seated on the floor - I just wanted to be home with my family.

    When boarding had finished we sat and waited. I wondered what the delay was. Finally the pilot came on with an announcement and I felt my stomach clenching again. "We are waiting for latest updates from the Australian Government", he said. "Both Melbourne and Sydney are currently in gate lock". I wondered what the hell was gate lock. Surely it did not mean that the plane had been refused permission to take off ?

    After what I had been through, the thought of being stopped at that late moment would have been too cruel to bear. We sat and waited some more, until eventually the plane started to move. A few minutes later we were in the air and heading westwards. All that remained was another 16 hourrs of flying time and I would be home in Melbourne.

    Almost immediately the tiredness was overwhelming and I felt myself dropping off into blissful sleep. If only I could sleep the next 16 hours.....    Läs mer

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  • The World on Two WheelsCanada, Cuba and Covid 19The World on Two Wheels

    Back in Melbourne

    20 mars 2020, Australien ⋅ ☁️ 21 °C

    Sixteen hours in economy is never a pleasant experience, especially when it follows almost three days of sleepless transits. In normal circumstances, I would be dreading the whole ordeal, but this was different. I really was just relieved to be on board. In my mind I decided that, once we were in the air, we could not be turned back.

    I normally find it almost impossible to sleep on planes, but in this case I was just so completely exhausted that I could not possibly stay awake any longer. Even though the plane was overheated, I wrapped myself in the blanket, lay back the seat and fell asleep. In fact, such was level of sleep deprivation, that I never watched any movies like I normally would, I just wanted the world to leave me alone. I had to sleep.

    Somehow the long flight over the Pacific went by in a blur of sleeping interspersed with short periods of wakefulness. From time to time I checked the little flight map to see how far the little plane icon had crawled across the map.

    Due to the mysteries of crossing the International Date Line an entire day disappeared into the ether and I finally found myself landing at Tullamarine at around 9 am on Friday morning. I was finally home. Almost. Of course I still had to get from the airport to my house, but after what I had been through, that seemed like a trivial matter.

    I did not know exactly what to expect when I got off the plane, but I thought that at least we would be thoroughly debriefed about what it meant to undertake 14 days of self isolation. I thought that we might also be supplied with a mask and hand sanitizer. What I actually received was a sheet of information. I wondered how the many non English speaking people on the plane would make any sense of it.

    I was somewhat horrified to then discover that the passengers were then all free to exit the airport and catch taxis, buses and the like. If such incoming travellers are a high risk of infection, there was no control whatsoever at limiting their exposure to the population.

    Considering the number of flights I had undertaken and the changes of plans along the way, I was expecting that my luggage would not have made it to Melbourne with me. I was wrong. My familiar blue case was soon reunited with me and I made my way out of the terminal.

    Maggie and I had previously worked out a system whereby she would drive my car to the parking lot and then leave the key on the boot lid. In that way we did not need to contact each other at all. Soon I was driving home. I could not help but feel that I was still in some sort of dream. So much had changed in the very short time since I had departed from that same airport, that my head was spinning.

    I finally pulled into my drive, parked my car and collapsed inside the house. Now I was really home. It was a somewhat hollow feeling to be back and have no one to share my experiences with. I now begin my 14 days of self isolation, however the very first thing I needed was a shower and a proper sleep in my own bed.

    We are all now in uncharted waters.    Läs mer

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  • The World on Two WheelsCanada, Cuba and Covid 19The World on Two Wheels

    Day 2 of Quarantine

    21 mars 2020, Australien ⋅ ☁️ 17 °C

    I spent a very unsettled night, trying to come to grips with how rapidly everything had changed. Not only had I just made an unplanned rush across the plant from Cuba back to Melbourne, but the place that I had returned to was so completely different to the one that I had left, just three weeks earlier.

    Alone in an empty house, I was not sure what to do. I still had my luggage scattered around. The memories of my time in Cuba were already beginning to blur and fade in my mind. In some ways it felt like I was still in some sort of crazy dream and that I would be able to awake to the familiar world that I had left.

    The combined effects of exhaustion and jetlag made me feel weak and disoriented. I was quite surprised when one of my sons told me that it was Saturday. Things had happened so fast that I semed to be operating outside of the normal progresion of time.

    I spent quite some time on a succession of phone calls from people who had been following our progress and who were concerned that we may be trapped overseas. High in my thoughts was the welfare of those who were still in Cuba. I knew that I could not relax until they were all safely home.

    The rest of the day I spent catching up on the laundry. This is always part of my routine when getting back to Australia, but with the feeling that microscopic viruses could be hiding everywhere, the task assumed an even higher priority than usual.

    Although my quarantine has only just begun, I am already feeling the effects of loneliness and isolation. We normally take so much more granted in life, including the simple priviledge of being surounded by family. It is a horrible feeling to be separated and not know when you will be able to interact with them again. I can see that the next 12 days will drag by slowly. Although I have plenty of books to read and videos to watch, I am already missing the company of others.

    On the positive side I can report that I have no signs of fever or cough, so that is encouraging.    Läs mer

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