Here we are on a Cuban beach surrounded by hundreds of Canadians.
Here we are on a Cuban beach surrounded by hundreds of Canadians – who are just off camera.

Hi. It’s been awhile. I hope you’re doing well. I’m good, thanks.

Life is humming along as it tends to do. Sleep, work, eat, laugh, poop, repeat. That’s really what’s gone on the past couple years – not always in that particular order.

Life is good, if not a bit boring and unbloggable. Not a bad thing, just the way it goes.

To break things up, we’ve taken a few nice little trips since we stopped sweating in Sri Lanka. Our most recent get away was supposed to be to Honduras over the Christmas break. We were going to spend two weeks on the beach staying with our friend at his island villa. Sounds nice, right? Not to mention we love mooching off of the others (see our European trip in the summer).

Well, it didn’t quite turnout that way thanks to an unnamed heartless airline (United) cancelling our flight to Denver for three straight days and then not having any availability for the next week. Shit.

Long story short, after much swearing and tossing of 3-day old packed luggage, we made the best of it and booked an all-inclusive, week-long trip to Cuba leaving the next day. Not the trip we had planned, but the forecast was for sun and the price was right (especially since United refunded our Honduras flights).

Cuba, not Cuba

We’ve both been to all-inclusive resorts before. They’re not our favourite places, but you really can’t go too wrong when it’s 30 above and there are 17 free bars. And it’s -30 in Regina.

The first couple days were great – swimming, scuba diving, snorkeling, judging others – all things we enjoy very much. But, by day three, we were looking to escape the fake resort life (and I was getting tired of beating Trina in tennis). So with Havana over 700 km away and only resorts for as far as the eye could see, our only way out was renting a couple of one-speed bikes with baskets on the front and pedaling for as far as our legs would take us.

With only 750 ml of water, sandals and no shirt or food, we sped away on bikes we borrowed from a security guard at the neighbouring 5-star resort. We had no map and were going to a place Trina vaguely remembered reading about online – Cayo Guillermo. I had no idea what was there or how far it was. I only knew that we were making it there or dying – whatever came first.

Not that Trina and I talked about it first. It’s just kind of an unspoken rule that whatever we do will eventually turn into some sort of an endurance challenge.

After about 30 minutes of pedaling in the direction we thought was the right way, we came up to the first road sign that said – Cayo Guillermo 38 km. We both saw it and we both said nothing. We just kept going.

At the the 19 km mark, we stopped for a sip of water and had the silly conversation about whether we were going to keep riding. We both knew the answer – neither one of us would ever signal that we’d had enough. And to tell you the truth, it was a great little ride. Yeah, my butt was sore and I was severely dehydrated, but the weather was fantastic and we had escaped the buffets and the poolside aerobics.

While there wasn’t much to see other than another beach, some resorts and a flock of flamingos in Cayo Guillermo, it was well worth the 5-hour, 100 km bike ride. (Even though I contemplated just laying down in the ditch and letting nature take its course at about the 70 k mark.)

We were actually gone so long that a search party was sent out from where we rented the bikes Apparently the other tourists don’t go that far? Wimps.

Anyways, we had a very nice week and we’re already planning our next escape.

Happy 2015 everyone. Enjoy some pics of the trip…