Riding In Cars With Boys

I had a plan, something I should have learned a long time ago doesn't really work out when backpacking. But I couldn't help formulating something since I also had little time and places I wanted to see yet, like Santa Clara, the town of Che's monument and resting place. I thought to take a morning bus there, spend the day exploring, then catch an afternoon bus out and onwards. But this was Cuba, not any other Latin American country that has an effective bus system with regular services.

I had run out of options but ran into a private cab driver and asked if I could get a ride. Unfortunately, Santa Clara was not one of the usual runs and too expensive to go solo, so I had breakfast while I thought out alternatives. I was in luck. The cab driver found me, told me to wait, and he returned with a young man who could take me to Santa Clara for almost half the price of a day tour.

The guy picked me up in his hot imported Peugeot and we drove through the hills and the beautiful countryside, inland, towards Santa Clara. It occurred to me that I had just accepted a ride in a car with a total stranger and no one, including myself, really knew where I was or where I was heading.

I didn't feel like I was in a bad situation, but there was niggling feeling of doubt. I decided to try make friends with my driver and small talked. Further on in the trip, the doubt diminished more and more. We drove through some small towns where my driver would wave at familiar faces, even stopping to greet an old family friend. I was glad to be on my way to Santa Clara.