The week in Havana was, culturally, like nothing we had experienced before. Staying in the home of a local and having to forage for our own food (not really, there are plenty of restaurants), dropped us right in the middle of life in a city where strangers are still quite a novelty. Then, the 16 days cycling in heat and humidity with most evenings out in restaurants and yet, being ready to ride by 8am the next morning was exhausting. By the time it came to our final week, we were more than ready to spend a week on a sun lounger, practising our rum drinking abilities.
I’d like to boast we stayed at the posh Breezes hotel at Jibacoa but we didn’t. We were in the Villas Tropico for a quarter of the price and would we have been any the wiser? Not really. The accommodation was fine, the beach was exactly the same and the snorkelling on the reef was identical.