We arrived at Trinidad at dawn on the bus from Holguin: the sun had only just begun to slant across the cobbles in the square of the bus depot. The streets were empty. In the unaccustomed peace I almost missed the hustling of guys offering taxis or cheap accomodation that had followed us throughout Cuba: obviously it was considered to be too early for tourists.

And so at first we struggled to find a casa particular (or guesthouse) in which to stow our backpacks; we worked our way around the historical quarter knocking at doors only to be met with a surprised look and to be told that they were full. Discouraged, we went into a bakery, apparently the only shop open in the whole city at that time – the woman owning the shop at least was friendly and gave us some bread rolls and directions to a casa that she thought would be free. Fortunately it was, although its owner was a little sinister woman and we were glad to leave our bags and go out again.

I quickly decided that I really liked Trinidad, the buildings were colourful and the colonial architecture was better preserved than in anywhere else in Cuba we had visited, extending even into the poorer parts of the city. The iconic belltower is an unforgettable building. I could see why the town had been declared a UNESCO world heritage site, even though it meant that it was more touristy than other areas of Cuba. Eventually, we went to the beach, which was relaxing but disappointing at the same time – it was the kind that affords almost no shade and where the sand thus quickly heats up to foot-scorching temperatures. So in the afternoon we returned to the city and tried out a local speciality, a cocktail made with honey, rum and lemon, served in a honeypot of all things! I felt like Winnie the Pooh. The bar itself had a really great jazz band playing so we lingered until the heat subsided, hearing classic Cuban tunes like ‘ Guantanamera’ and ‘Chan Chan’ performed with more than usual gusto.

In the next couple of days we felt that we really got to know Trinidad, pottering about the markets, drinking more cocktails and taking a trip by train out into the countryside and the Manaca-Iznaca estate with its famous observation tower. It’s strange to think that much of this countryside, now for the most part uncultivated, was once filled with sugarcane and blighted by slavery: in fact the observation tower was used to allow the plantation owner to keep an eye on his slaves below. Knowing this, climbing the tower and looking down on the little village below it, seeing the women putting their washing out, made us feel guilty and almost voyeuristic. From that height, Cuba’s Revolution seemed inevitable. That evening a guy explained Santeria (a religion that mixes Catholicism and African faiths) to us in a café over drinks while we watched other tourists trying to dance salsa with amusement.

Still Trinidad had one more surprise in store for us: a brush with the police. The morning we were due to leave the owner of our casa particular presented us with the bill and we were shocked to find that she had been systematically overcharging us. This was the first time this had happened to us and we weren’t sure what to do – in the end we paid the rate we had originally agreed and left. However, we were mortified when she turned up at the bus station in a police car just as we were about to leave! Some quick negotiations were necessary and we ended up having to pay about 20 CUC extra…to be honest by that time we were just glad to be able to get our bus to Santa Clara! Despite this we had an fantastic time in Trinidad and at least we now have an interesting story to tell!