Jeremy's Bike Blog

Bike stolen in Cienfuegos

I was being lazy and was tired of locking up my bike every time I turned my back on it for a few seconds, so I didn’t before I walked a couple meters to pay my 16 cent bill for the pair of egg sandwiches I’d just eaten in the open-air cafe in Cienfuegos. The proprietor made a fuss about the money I was handing him, which may have been, though probably wasn’t, a deliberate distraction for the guy that swiftly mounted my bike and was riding off with it when I turned around about 10 seconds after it left my sight.

The thief was about 30 meters away when in my flash of panic, involuntarily uttering “no no no no”, I spotted and began to run after him. My bicycle, which I’d anyways intended to leave in Cuba at the end of my stay, was only part of my concern. My larger concern was the handlebar bag and its contents that were also now in the thief’s possession. These contents included the entirety of the cash I had for my time in Cuba, my passport, phone, 360° camera, kindle, and several other things that I use on a daily basis and hence keep in that bag.

He was pedaling with a somewhat slow cadence, likely unaware of how to use my integrated shift/brake levers, and so stuck with whatever gear I’d left it in. He was also weaving a bit, so perhaps he was maybe not very practiced with riding bicycles in general, and/or ill-fitted for my particular bike. I gained ground on him for a bit, but when I began shouting to solicit the help of bystanders that he was weaving past, he was alerted to my pursuit and picked up speed. In doing so he seemed flustered, faltered a bit, and nearly fell. At that point I was well within one second behind him at my current clip. Alas, that was as close as I got to catching him.

I shouted to several groups of bystanders, and one group of guys made what seemed to me like a half-hearted effort to impede his escape, but he countered with another weave and then was in the clear. At this point, I had full on sprinted somewhere between 200 and 300 meters, and while adrenaline was still coursing through me, I was spent. I tried to get a bystander to let me use his bicycle, but he just gave me a strange look like “you must be joking”. Still panting, surely looking incredibly anguished, I explained to a motorcyclist in my very limited Spanish what had happened while a group of workers on a nearby rooftop shouted down to us the direction that he was headed. I jumped on the back of the motorcycle and we went in the advised direction, but by then the thief had a good 30 second lead on us, along with a dense neighborhood of turns and streets to choose from. We did a sweep of the area for a few minutes, and then returned to where we had started.

A group that had gathered there tried consoling me while one of them phoned the police, and about 5 minutes later, a patrol car showed up. Defeated and in shock, I answered their questions as best I could given the language barrier, and then got into the back of their dilapidated patrol car which they drove around while stopping to question people on the street. After a few minutes of this, they dropped me off at a gas station near where we had met up, then made a phone call and rushed off, instructing me to wait there for them to return.

After an eternity of 40 minutes, another cop on a motorcycle showed up and took me a few blocks to where there were about 10 officers milling about. I learned that my bike was in a nearby courtyard of a semi-abandoned looking building, with the handlebar bag still attached, but relieved of most of its contents. I’d have to wait a while before looking at it. Also present were a forensics specialist in lab coat and rubber gloves, a man in a soldier’s uniform, and a canine unit. The forensics specialist and the canine unit put a german shepard on the trail of the thief, but it went cold, not surprisingly, as it was by then a couple of hours since the bike was ditched.

After about an hour of waiting there, I was allowed to look at the bike and open the handlebar bag. The key that I had left in the latch attaching the bag to the bike had been broken off, likely in the thief’s attempt to detach the bag. Very thankfully he failed to do so, and so I knew that the bulk of my cash, still in USD, would still be there, well concealed under a flap and undiscovered in the thief’s scramble to ditch the bike and take off with the valuables. Also, in what I can only assume was a small gesture of mercy, he left my passport, which he must have handled as he took the $150 worth of CUC pesos that were along side of it. He made off with just about everything else.

At this point, I had resigned myself to much worse. Now, I realized that with my reserves of US dollars recovered, I had enough cash to last the remainder of my time here. Less than an hour before the incident, I’d used the last of the WiFi access on my WiFi access card to extend from 8 to 15 more days (and quickly post as much on FB). With my passport, I wouldn’t have to incur any additional major hassle. If my bike and these things had not been recovered, I would have surely had to cut my trip short, after some undetermined ordeals to obtain funds, and with the US Embassy over the lost passport.

That night the bike was kept at the police station undergoing further forensics. The proprietors of my guest house were very sweet and sympathetic and I think felt worse about the ordeal when they learned of it than I did by that time. A Dutch cyclist that I’d met and ridden with earlier in the day, staying at the same guest house, helped me file the detailed police report with the lead officer that accompanied me back to it in order to do so.

I have a spare phone to use for navigation and communication. This is the third extended bike trip I’ve taken and the third time I’ve been very grateful to have a spare phone.

The police are ostensibly still looking for the thief, using recordings from surveillance cameras that may have captured identifying images of him, and questioning witnesses.

I would really like to get my stuff back. At the same time, I’m told that the punishment for the thief, if caught, would be 5-7 years prison, which to me seems excessive, and is not something I’d want on my conscience.

In all, the experience left me feeling grateful for how seriously the police are took the matter, and simultaneously grateful and self-conscious about my good fortune, particularly in contrast to the police who have took up my cause so earnestly, each of whom has a total annual salary that is considerably less than the cash that they recovered for me.

I tried on all 3 days that I was in Cienfuegos to obtain another internet access card, to no avail.

Yesterday, I had an amazing, river fording, mountain slogging, small-town festival partaking ride to Trinidad, and this morning, after a mere 45 minutes queued up in line, I obtained another internet card.

I’ve suspended my Google Fi service in case my primary phone ends up in the hands of someone savvy yet dumb enough to reset the phone and use it. I have 2-phase authetication set up for several things, including Facebook Messenger. I’ve tried to turn it back on long enough to get access to codes to log into Facebook Messenger and Google Device Manager, but I don’t seem to be getting texts. So until I’m back in the states on Feb. 17, e-mail is the most reliable way to get in touch. I’ll only get these when I’m in WiFi hotspots in larger town (so, every few days or so?).

I seem to have a checklist of things without which a cycle adventure can’t be considered complete.

* Riding on a muddy road that necessitates removing fenders

* Taking a well-deserved pull from of a bottle of booze offered by a passer-by (say, at the end of a 30km mud road)

* Spending a night in a humble domicile (shack) thanks to the hospitality of a local (say, just after taking a well-deserved pull)

* Having some non-trivial dealings with law enforcement

* Fording bike through balls-deep water

* Pushing bike up slopes too steep to pedal, for multiple kilometers

* Happening upon a singularly authentic local event where I’m clearly the only foreigner

This trip, these have happened in this order, and the trip from Cienfuegos to Trinidad yesterday was nothing short of amazing.

My momentary lack of judgement aside, (which was definitely not for lack of admonitions from Cubans that I shouldn’t ever take my eye off my bike in certain places), I have to say my luck has been nothing short of spectacular. Sure, I’m out about $1000 worth of money and stuff (and several dozen pictures), but I’ve replayed the incident in my head many, many times. Say I did catch the thief. Witnesses described him to the cops as appearing to be a fuerte trabajador -a strong worker- and he wouldn’t necessarily have fled had I caught up and grabbed onto the bike. I’ll take losing $1000 over a busted face any day. It’s also fortunate that I turned around in time to give him a good enough chase that he ditched the bike and the bag. I’m also glad that I changed my ticket when I did, because I probably wouldn’t have opted to just after the incident, and staying here for 4 weeks instead of 3 is the better choice (and would have been considerably more expensive to do had I waited until I realized this again).

I’ll post pictures and stuff if/as I’m able, and definitely more when I get home. Being largely without any internet has been both challenging and refreshing.

I’m rambling a bit now, but I want to conclude by saying that Cuba really is fantastically amazing and the people are simply delightful. Clearly, there is some crime, but AFAICT, it’s non-violent, and opportunistic, and I (still) feel perfectly safe, if a bit more aware of a need to be vigilant.

Thanks for reading!