The wilder side of Cuba, with its hidden railway lines, empty beaches and forgotten relics Save Follow Weâre heading south towards Cubaâs swamps, following a faint line on the map. Outside, the road is worsening while the landscape grows more beautiful, cane fields interrupted by vast ceiba trees. We pass through a village full of children laughing their way home, smart in their red and white âyoung pioneerâ school uniforms. At the edge of a woodland, campesinos on horseback turn in their saddles, machetes hanging down past their spurs, gazing at our white Peugeot 301. A woman is walking the track, an umbrella protecting her from the sun, and we stop to ask if she wants a lift. When she hears where weâre headed, she explodes: âAre you crazy? The river is flooded ahead.â A cart pulled by oxen is coming the other way. She calls to the driver to confirm this intelligence, and our lack of it. He nods towards the two huge beasts in front of him, saying: âI wouldnât even ask these two to go through that river at the moment.â This is the Cuba Camila and I have been looking for, setting out from Havana after the islandâs long lockdown, measures that have so far kept its coronavirus cases among the lowest in the Americas. Journey Latin America has a new âtrailblazerâ road trip, capitalising on Cubaâs place on the UKâs âsafe corridorâ list (though travel restrictions apply â see Essentials). We got away early, by dint of living in Havana. It means towns like Trinidad and Viñales remain closed, pushing us out from the mainstream.