 La
Isla de Juventud (Island of Youth) is the second largest in Cuba.
Known originally as La Isla de Los Pinos (Island of Pines), it lies
100km south of the main island. It was a popular hideout for many
pirates in days of old who referred to it as Parrot Island. During
the Batista era it was classed as a 'free zone’ and escaped the
attentions of American tourist development schemes. After the revolution
(1959) many young people volunteered to study and work on the island.
This influx of labour helped develop the island become the agricultural
centre that it is today.
The
northern half of the island is the most inhabited area, as the southern
end is exceptionally swampy. Altogether there are roughly 75,000
residents and the capital is called Nueva Gerona, which was to be
my home for the next few days.
Walking
round the town I was overjoyed to find that I was the only tourist
in sight. The locals smiled at you and basically left you to your
own devices.
After
a visit to the bank I headed back to the Casa to grab some lunch.
It had been suggested to me that I might like to climb the Sierra
de Casas, a small mountain not too far from where I was staying.
I set off and found the base quite easily. The climb itself was
more difficult than I imagined. There was dense foliage to deal
with and the limestone proved slippy. I had also noticed that it
was much warmer here; there were far fewer clouds and tropical downpours
than on the main island.
From
the top you had a commanding view of the northern end of the island.
You could see the ferry harbour and two enormous limestone pillars
that flanked Neueva Gerona. The guidebook urged climbers to stick
to the paths, I chose not to. Descending this way was a challenge
and a lot of fun. At one point, I slipped and disturbed an ant nest,
resulting in a few nasty bites that smarted for the rest of the
day.
Eventually
I came into a clearing and wandered around the town at my leisure.
Walking through the Barrios was great; the air was full of exciting
aromas and the noise of children playing. I passed my new landlord
and waved to him. He’d no sooner passed me than I realised
I was lost. Thirty minutes later, I was no nearer finding the apartment.
I headed back into the town and sat at a café in order to
get my bearings. Luckily, the landlord's wife and daughter passed
by. She asked, “Que pasa?” (What’s up?).
“Pienso
que estoy perdido” (I think I’m lost).
Laughing,
she replied, “Venga con nosotros, es muy cerca” (Come
with us, it’s very near).
As
we neared the apartment I realised that I’d walked past it
twice but wasn’t going to admit to this. I then spent the evening
chatting with the owners, Rey, Maria and their daughter Myla. They
suggest a few things that I might like to do whilst on the island.
There is a nature reserve to the south but visiting it is a bit
pricey. They suggest I might like to visit the prison here  where
Castro was held for two years. I thanked them for their time and
advice and went to my apartment for supper and an early night.
The
views expressed on this page are those of the contributor and the
opinions expressed are not necessarily those of the BBC.
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