Smoke and Haze: Visiting Cuba’s Cigar Country
Smoke and Haze: Visiting Cuba’s Cigar Country
Leave the mojito by the pool and head out to Pinar del Río, home to the country’s top tobacco plantations
TOBACCO ROAD | Viñales Valley in Pinar del Río is home to Cuba’s top plantations Getty Images
By
Javier Espinoza
Nov. 5, 2014 7:55 a.m. ET
MOST PEOPLE GO TO Cuba for its white sandy beaches and all-inclusive hotels, but the thought of staring at tourists lying on their backs all day was less than inspiring when I was planning my second visit to the Caribbean island. So I decided to ditch the usual mojitos by the pool and spend my time exploring Cuba’s even wilder side—its tobacco plantations.
Though I’m not a smoker, it’s hard to resist the urge to find out more about what are widely considered to be the best cigars in the world—and take a puff or two. So I find myself on a bus to Pinar del Río on the westernmost tip of the island. Encircled by mountains and dense with the forests of Viñales National Park, a Unesco World Heritage site, the area is one of the country’s top ecotourism attractions. It also happens to be home to the country’s top plantations.
Arriving in Viñales after the hourlong bus journey from Havana, my then-girlfriend, now wife, Mairéad, and I meet our guide, Jessy Gómez, and head out to a local farm to learn how cigars are made from those who know it best. The sun is blasting as we walk through the fields—and though it’s a welcome contrast to the freezing, gray London I left behind, I’m happy when we move toward a nearby hut.
“Here’s where the leaves are bundled and hung to dry for about four weeks,” explains Jessy. “First, of course, the farmers harvest the leaves. Before the tobacco is sent to the factory, farm workers, who are mostly women, will sort the leaves based on their size and physical state.” In the hut, there’s a smell of siesta in the air and everything is still—not one of the hundreds of dried leaves hanging from the beams flutters.
Outside, as we continue our journey, we catch a glimpse of a farmer plowing the fields with just an ox—“like the farmers in England 100 years ago,” our guide says. But before we get too close, we turn off the main path for one of the many caves that surround the fields. At the entrance to the 14-kilometer-long Cueva del Silencio, or Cave of Silence, we meet José Luis. His father started bringing visitors here about eight years ago, but now that he is elderly and blind, José has taken over the task of showing off the cave’s plethora of stalagmites and stalactites.
More:
http://online.wsj.com/articles/smoke-and-haze-visiting-cubas-cigar-country-1415192127
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