 I saw this trip advertised on a noticeboard at work. It involved 16 days cycling round the Eastern, less commercialised, part of Cuba with a group of 12 others through the Havanatur company. There would be a coach to follow us, so we would not be required to carry our luggage while cycling, and it gave us the option of relaxing if it got too tough. I loved the idea, and after successfully pitching it to a mate, and eight months later we were about to head to the land of rum, cigars and 50's cars.
One thing I must say before I start my story, is that during this trip I had my camera stolen, details of that interesting story you will just have to wait and read on, but luckily I was able to obtain copies of the photos taken by the others in the group, which is the reason they are of varying quality.
We met up with three of our soon to be fellow travellers in the early hours of the morning. Because we needed to take our own bikes with us, we had booked â "The man with a van" to take us to Manchester airport. Upon arriving at the airport we finally all met up for the first time, and got onto our flight without any issues.
 We landed in Holguin airport in the evening - the smallest airport I'd been to. Room for a couple of planes, the building itself had enough seats for two small plane loads, one shop and one cafe/bar. There was one set of doors leading directly outside to the plane, and another leading through passport control to the check-in area. Here we were finally able to exchange our money to Cuban Pesos. Because no one is allowed to take Cuban currency outside the country, you can't exchange your money anywhere else. One of our number, a Scottish gentleman in his later years shall we say, had not taken the advice we were given months beforehand, and had brought Scottish currency with him to exchange. Now it is difficult to get Scottish notes accepted in England most of the time, so you can imagine what the response was at the Cuban exchange. Needless to say he was rather grateful that someone else in the group had brought more than was needed, and could lend him some Euros.
After we sorted everything out at the airport, we met up with our Cuban guide Jesus (Pronounced 'Hey-Zeus') and our driver. The bikes were loaded (Still packaged up in their travel boxes) and headed to Hotel El Bosque in the town of Bayamo. By this time it was late into the evening, so we didn’t really get much of a glimpse of the Cuban landscape on the way.
We drove into the centre of Bayamo, but the coach could not park outside the hotel, so we unloaded a short distance away, and began to carry our dismantled bikes and bags through a couple of streets. During this time I was approached by a local who spoke a little broken English. Not wanting to be impolite, but realising she was probably after something, I tried to keep things brief. It turned out she wanted me to deliver a parcel to her cousin in England, because if she posted it, it would be unlikely it would reach him. This sounded like an obvious scam, and the rest of the group were disappearing down the street. Realising I had no idea what the name was of the hotel we were heading for, I decided I had better rap things. Finally I managed to escape, and rushed down the street after the others, who had by this time gone out of sight. Opening out into a square, I looked around only to find several buildings that looked like hotels. Just as I was starting to worry, I spotted one of the group through a window, and entered the hotel.
 Because we wanted to start cycling straight away the next morning, we had to put our bikes back together. as we did so I got my first taste of a Cuban favourite, the Cubre Libre, or dark rum and coke as you and I might know it. Not entirely sure it’s the best thing to have when your sweating away in a stifling hot room, but it was complementary and cold, so I wasn’t complaining.
After a few teething issues for some, all our bikes were good to go, and we made our way to our rooms looking forward to what the next day might entail.
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