Crabs. You usually have them on your plate as seafood after reading a menu. But we were in the height of crab migration season in Cuba. Cycling through hundreds of crabs crossing the road to get to the ocean.
We tried to avoid them, but every now and then a death crunch would sound as you rolled over one. All we could say was thank you Kevlar tyres. The smell of sun baked dead crab fermenting, greets you long before you see them squashed on the road.
How we got here, had transpired from a year of planning – Spanish lessons, a bike mechanic course, research on cycling trips and training rides. With our lonely planet tucked under our armpit we couldn’t go wrong.
Cuba has really opened up to independent cycle touring. Although three white women on bikes is still a novelty for most Cubans.
The crab roulette was the first of our multi – day cycle trips. This was day two on what would eventually be an unforeseen tenhour day. We were biking along a remote section by the Bay of Pigs, next to the Caribbean. The maps on Kay’s cell phone she had downloaded saved us many times from taking wrong turns on numerous off shoots of tracks. At several track intersections we would need to check the phone to make sure we were on the right track. The solar charger was worth its extra weight.
This story is from the August - September 2019 edition of Adventure Magazine.
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This story is from the August - September 2019 edition of Adventure Magazine.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
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