29 December 2024, Morón to Ciego de Avila, 32km
Room for Rent, $13 (R234)

Two roads link Morón and Ciego de Avila, 32km south; we took the road less travelled.
Our leisurely route immediately put us in the poorer part of town where we were conscious that the inhabitants were also darker on the whole.
Several home-shops did not have bottled water, but luckily on the very outskirts of Morón we found water in stock, not cold but at least wet.
Our road paralleled the railway line and passed through small towns named Ciro and Ceballos.
In Ciro we drank tiny cups of delicious espresso at a place playing soothing, familiar music.
In Ceballos, I mentioned to Charl I was lus for (had a desire for) ice cream. Soon thereafter we saw two men on a horse-drawn cart, both licking pink ice cream from a cone. We tried to calculate how much further we would need to ride to find the vendor, deciding that horse-pace plus ice cream still visible above the cone edge translated as not far. And so it proved. While we sat in the sunshine, others came to buy. A mom climbed down from her horse-drawn cart to buy three cones for her, her husband and her daughter. A young man walked away happy. Someone bought and delivered a cone to the railway man aboard his stationary train across the road. And a mom with a babe on her hip bought a cone to share with her little one. The baby was wide-eyed and wide-mouthed, greedy in her pleasure.
We cycled a peaceful Cuban Sunday. People sold sad-looking fruit and vegetables alongside the road. And we passed three blockhouses and later in Avila saw a mural depicting the same blockhouse design.
We were super excited to see a Chinese restaurant advertised on Google Maps, but disappointed to discover that despite the Chinese lanterns and a frieze of the Great Wall, on offer was the usual rice and chicken.
This is the night we slept in Hulda's narrow, over-full home. She prepared a simple, fresh dinner for us of tuna with mayonnaise, and for dessert, white cheese with a mango sauce.
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We shared our bedroom above Hulda's house with an eclectic collection of "friends" (Pink Panther, Mona Lisa and Jesus Christ - we wondered if they had confused Mona with Mary) and a large collection of breakable ottermanne (bric-a-brac). So numerous were these, I gathered them up and stored them in a safe corner, returning them to their display spots before vacating the premises.
Hulda's house is about three metres wide and maybe 25m long. It comprises an enclosed front stoep abutting the pavement, a tiny lounge area, two bedrooms, one each for Hulda and her mom. There is no separation between the rooms and the passage, the rooms spilling into the passageway. A small bathroom narrows the first of three kitchen/dining areas. And then there is a small courtyard garden from which stairs lead up to the guest suite.
Hulda works in a bank and both she and her mum are incredibly house-proud. They were very happy to have me film their home. I would go minimalist in a home that shape and size, but I think they feel their home and everything in it reflects success and well-being.