Biking on Cuba part 2 - Oriente: 5. Moa

At breakfast John (cyklist from Ireland, also deported to this casa) suggest that we share a taxi to Baracoa. Cheating say Roland & Lena and start off in a rainstorm that makes yesterday's seem like a little drizzle. Yes, you have to be half mad to go on such an expedition. And we are. Sitting in my bed writing this I tell you - we truly are. Thanks God we did not have to bike all the way to Baracoa. This is the worst road Ever! Hills are steeper, rain is ridiculously hard, head wind so strong so we have to use the lowest gear on flat ground. The "wanna be" road was maybe in good shape in the 50th, nobody has paid attention to it since then. Here and there some asphalt. Mostly holes. Some of them really deep, half a meter or so. Max speed going Down the steep hills is 10 k/h.
Our journey starts with 20 k through Moa's industrial area. The ugliness is not possible to describe. Nickel factories vomit out their toxic yellow smoke, the factories no longer in use stands like concrete corpses towards the black grey skies. Hold on to the handles when the wind guts strikes directly from the upset ocean, or you'll fly away and land in the very deep ditch filled with orange water. Palm trees laying down. Water everywhere, sometimes we have to cross veritable lakes. No cars, no buses. It's a strange feeling. This is supposed to be a main road. We are all by ourselves.
And keep on going. And keep on going.

When we have done two third of the road we meet a jeep. It stops and out jump two young German cyklists. They have some information for us. Thank you so much! The bridge over the river to Baracoa has been wiped away, there is no way to get across. We have to stay on this side. There is a casa, but, there is also a super nice hotel. And they are willing to negotiate the price.
So we are so grateful we don't have to bike all the way to Baracoa. That we can turn left at the sign and go down to the roaring sea where we find the hotel. And we negotiate, and are given a nice, spacious room in one of the buildings made of dark wood. Ah, what a feeling! To get inside (after a dark rum in the bar of course), a long warm shower, dry clothes and a delicious dinner of fresh fish in coconut sauce. We are the only guests. We fall asleep to the sounds of the roaring wind, the pouring rain and the big waves breaking just outside our window.