In Cuba, the horse is as integral a part of everyday life as a 1948 Cadillac. In rural areas horse-drawn 'buses' serve the local towns and the 'family cart' bears a strong resemblance to a galvanised water trough on wheels, with a plank for a seat. But turning into the entrance of Finca La Guabina, we could see instantly that here there were horses of calibre.
A government-run stud farm, La Guabina specialises in breeding Appaloosa and Pinto horses. Set on the edge of a huge and very natural-looking reservoir, the paddocks are full of mares, foals and geldings which are sold at 'ferias' throughout Cuba. The vaqueros trotted by our cabin and, from the comfort of rocking chairs, we watched horses, broods of chickens and magnificent white oxen free-range past our verandah.
Quiet by nature, and easy to ride, our posse rode through a landscape of small fields of maize, tobacco, rice, palms and magnificent mango trees festooned with ripe fruit. Tethered cattle and horses grazed amongst copses of thorny scrub and pairs of oxen, roped together around their horns, ploughed the red earth guided not by reins but by voice. It sounded something like 'dallio' for speed-up and 'ho' for stop - and the horses responded to the same instructions.
Longer expeditions took us up into the hills, through forests of fine-needled pines where we were periodically adopted by families of wild piglets playing truant and following us until distracted by tempting puddles of mud to wallow in. In remote clearings would be little homesteads of white and blue painted wood with the ubiquitous rocking chair on the verandah.
A few days later in Trinidad, where absolutely any style of chair seemed to be adapted to the rocking variety, the impression was of a poorer lifestyle. Once dominated by sugar factories, the land is now only sparsely farmed and many rural homesteads are propped up at precarious angles. Enterprise is thriving, however, and when we rode up rough tracks to a lunchtime stop at a small campesino (farm) that has turned itself into a popular bar, there was hardly room to tie up our horses to the railings while we headed inside for cold beers.
With a posse that included three stallions and a mare (plus a few motley extras borrowed from a neighbouring hacienda), the riding at La Casona was always going to be interesting! Camilla, the owner (a Belgian who spent many years sailing and working his way around the world before marrying and settling in Cuba) has been breeding his own horses here for a number of years and they are immaculately cared for on a small ranch right on the very edge of Trinidad with fabulous views across to the Escambray mountains.
The estancia, itself a listed historic building, is a gem of a family home being developed to take guests. As I write this, lazing in a hammock, there's the sound of horses being hosed down under the mango trees and a gentle whinnying as freshly-cut king-grass is taken to the stables. Bridles and girth-straps are hanging from the well-cover, the deep saddles sit on individual racks in the shade and a huge fan is drying the thick Mexican saddle-cloths. It's a Saturday, so the gaucho's children are here, playing quietly while their father puts yet another coat of whitewash on the stable rails. Cockerels are crowing, the birds are singing, someone is pushing a bike down the street on the other side of the wall and calling out that they have limes for sale.
Perhaps it's time for another dacquiri......
Caroline recently travelled on our Cuba Horse Trek group tour.
