Traveller's Tales: Excerpt from 'Rootless and Restless' 

Isla de la Juventud in Cuba, where I now found myself on this quest, was once frequented by real pirates of the Caribbean. It became disputed territory after the Spanish relinquished control, leaving both Cuba and the US vying for it. Eventually, Cuba gained ownership of the island. It hosted the infamous prison Presidio Modelo, where Fidel Castro was imprisoned during the Cuban dictatorship, and ironically so were the political opponents who spoke up against the country’s socialist regime that followed. In the 1960s, this architecturally striking circular prison was closed and turned into a museum. The island, then known as Isla de Pinos (Island of Pines) was a popular seaside getaway among American tourists until the early 1900s, but after the Cuban revolution in 1959, all American property (like foreign property across the country) was nationalized.

The US eventually banned travel to Cuba. In the 1970s, Castro rechristened the island Isla de la Juventud—Island of the Youth—envisioning it as a hub for students as he opened new universities across the island. These shut down during Cuba’s economic slowdown in the 1990s, and the island gradually slipped into oblivion. It remained only on the radar of biologists and conservationists tracking the endemic species on the island.

From the window of my low-flying propeller plane, it looked uninhabited, covered in a tropical rainforest with a canopy so thick it was impossible to imagine anything below. The Caribbean Sea shimmered in stunning shades of blue on its edges. I wondered if I should have taken the occasional ferry from Havana and sailed slowly across the ocean. But my hosts had discouraged me: it was not only prone to cancellations, but more disturbingly, it was also prone to capsizing!

I climbed onto the front seat of the yellow truck to sit next to Alejandro at the driver’s wheel. I felt like I had finally arrived in the Cuba that had beckoned me from vintage postcards. When he switched on the ignition, reggae music poured through the speaker. The road was more potholed and bumpy than paved, but Alejandro didn’t seem bothered. He was an engineer by education but ferried the occasional passenger on his truck to make ends meet. All around us was the same dense, impenetrable rainforest I had seen from the plane window. He casually pointed out massive Cuban iguanas—the largest of the Caribbean lizards and one of the most endangered—lounging on the roadside, unperturbed by the roaring of our engine. Falcons flew right above us, sometimes chillingly close in the rear-view mirror. A deer stood attentively at the edge of the forest.

Huge crabs, sensing our approach, ran helter-skelter across the path. An enormous snake brought us to a screeching halt. As adrenalin and awe raced through my body, I felt like I was in a scene from a Steven Spielberg movie; a huge dinosaur might appear in the window any moment now! As we continued our bumpy journey, we spotted more wild creatures than humans. Even though it was the second-biggest island in the country, it felt far-flung and sparsely populated. Our final destination was Cocodrilo (Spanish for crocodile), a remote fishing village with only 320 inhabitants. Alejandro told me it had been cut off from the world by the dense forest and the Caribbean Sea until recent years, when the gravel road we were traversing was built. Electricity had arrived only in the early 2000s. Several kilometres later, the last stretch of the broken road ended. With nowhere further to go but straight into the water, it felt like we had arrived at the edge of the Earth. A handful of colourful houses stood resolutely in front of thick vegetation, beyond which lay the Caribbean Sea, its crystal blue waters enveloped by a light blue sky. A gentle breeze carried away the afternoon heat, promising a pleasant evening.

Nene, a small-built, middle-aged islander with a kind smile and black-rimmed spectacles hanging around his neck, welcomed me with a cheerful ‘bienvenido a tu casa’ (welcome to your house) from a bright blue house: my island homestay. Nene was not only my host but the visionary behind the coral reef restoration and sea clean-up project on Cocodrilo. He had first gone snorkelling and diving, with some basic gear borrowed from a friend, way back in 1988 (the year I was born)! He was instantly mesmerized by the underwater world, which became his refuge and his muse. Many years later, determined to save the coral reefs in his backyard, he started an underwater restoration project on the island. He had already hosted numerous volunteers and spent numerous hours cleaning the seabed and meticulously replanting broken corals. I had no idea then that living in his house for just a few days was going to profoundly impact everything I knew about travelling, our consumption patterns, our dietary choices and how climate change is impacting the marine world.

(Excerpted with permission from Penguin India)