Cuba bicycle boom fuel crisis is forcing millions to rethink mobility, as fuel shortages and blackouts reshape daily life and revive memories of the island’s harshest economic collapse.
Without fuel but still moving, Cuba is experiencing a new bicycle boom as the country faces a deepening economic and energy crisis. The roots of this situation trace back to 1989, when the collapse of the Soviet Union triggered what Fidel Castro called the “Special Period,” a time of severe shortages of fuel, food, and raw materials, along with a dramatic GDP drop of more than 40% in just three years.
Today, many Cubans see strong parallels between that period and the current crisis, which has intensified due to reduced fuel supplies. The phrase “there’s no oil” now defines daily life across the island, affecting transportation, electricity, and access to basic necessities. Fuel shortages have led to blackouts, limited mobility, and rising costs, making it increasingly difficult for people to carry out everyday activities.
The impact is especially visible in Havana, where streets are largely empty of buses and cars, aside from a few vintage American convertibles that transport tourists. Instead, bicycles, electric motorcycles, scooters, and rickshaws are becoming a common sight as residents look for affordable and reliable ways to get around.
“The bicycle is the Cuban means of transportation,” says Yoan, a 52-year-old fisherman, standing with his bike along the Malecón, Havana’s iconic seawall.
“Every time there’s a crisis in this country, the first thing to go is fuel. Then, everything gets really expensive… so, it’s better to ride a bike. It’s cheaper, faster and, besides that, you get exercise.”
His experience reflects a broader reality in Cuba, where bicycles are once again becoming essential. Yoan recalls that before the 1990s there were Russian bicycles, but during the Special Period, Chinese bicycles flooded the country. “This was a country filled with bicycles.”
To cope with the lack of motorized transportation, the government imported more than a million bicycles from China, selling them at very low prices or distributing them to state workers. Isabel, a former civil servant, remembers receiving one in 1993 while working as a sports director in Santiago de Cuba. She used her bicycle daily, traveling long distances to nearby municipalities such as El Cobre.
“The Special Period transformed Cuba’s urban landscape,” she explains. “Suddenly, there were many bicycles on the streets, with only the occasional car.”
She also recalls how improvised bicycle racks were built using whatever materials were available. These spaces became extensions of workplaces, schools, and factories. However, as the country gradually recovered, bicycles fell out of favor and came to symbolize hardship.
That association remains deeply rooted in Cuban culture. Many still link bicycles with scarcity, a perception that some are now trying to change. Yasser González Cabrera, founder of the Citykleta project in Havana, describes this mindset as a kind of “trauma” that needs to be overcome.
Since 2015, he has organized cycling events such as “Bicicletear La Habana,” held on the first Sunday of every month, which at its peak attracted up to 200 cyclists. His goal is to highlight the benefits of cycling and reshape how Cubans view bicycles.
“The bicycle is autonomy and freedom,” he says. “[Bicycling] has given me a lot.”
As Cuba continues to navigate fuel shortages and economic challenges, bicycles are once again becoming a key part of daily life. What was once seen as a symbol of crisis is gradually being redefined as a practical, sustainable, and empowering mode of transportation.
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