We arrived at Jose Marti International at night. Our taxi sped through the semi-lit streets. The occasional horse and Cadillac confirmed my suspicions that we were indeed, finally, in Cuba. How the taxi driver managed to find our casa particular I have no idea - all crumbling buildings look the same to me to be honest. It was unbearably humid; the prospect filled me with dread seeing as I had only packed two pairs of shorts. The pavements outside our casa were crammed full of people lounging in armchairs, playing dominoes and drinking rum while trying to outsmart their own sweat. We had to climb over some kids to get to the door and then up an imaginary ladder to reach the doorbell. Staying (and eating) with a local family not only works out fairly cheap, it also gives you an exceptional insight into the everyday lives and strife of the local people. I have rarely been made to feel more at home in someone else’s house. 
 

If you can stand the heat Havana is a great city to explore on foot. You’ll even pick up a stray dog on the way. The furthest you’ll probably have to walk is the Plaza Revolucion which is easily reached via the local street market on Avenue Salvador Allende. The Plaza, despite being overshadowed by the towering memorial to the national hero Jose Marti and hung with the effigies of both Che Guevara and Camilo Cienfuegos, kind of disappoints in terms of shock and awe. Was this indeed the same Plaza where Commandante en Jeffe, Fidel Castro, used to regularly bore his people into submission? 
 

Havana, especially the run down parts in the old colonial areas, is one of the most beautiful cities I have ever seen. The Malecon, half overlooked by the Castillo de los Tres Reyes del Morro on the one side and the infamous Hotel Nacional on the other, is especially magical in the late afternoon/early evening when it’s lined by locals who’ve either gathered there for the gossip, to drink rum, to fish, to drink rum and fish, or to swim in the often questionably clean waters of the bay. 
 

Although parts of the Havana Vieja area have been superbly restored to its original lustre and colour, it lacks the vibrancy and seduction of those parts of the city still in much need of repair. The area around the Paseo del Prado and the Parque Central (where you can jump on the T3 bus to the excellent Playas Del Este nearby), including the Capitolio and the beautiful Gran Teatro, down the Avenue de loas Misiones, houses many fine museums, including the memorial to the famous Granma on which Fidel and his group of 20-odd men reached the coast of Cuba from Mexico to kick start the revolution. The area sadly suffers from an over eager army of Jineteros who try and hassle you out of your money at any given opportunity. The best thing to do is to politely, but firmly refuse their advances. Cubans, even Jineteros, are exceptionally friendly and rarely make a nuisance of themselves for prolonged periods. Although Cuba as a whole is pretty safe, hold your valuables close at hand. We had our passports stolen four hours before we had to catch our return flight. We did get them back again within an hour though, but still. Better to play safe than dead.  
 

Intriguing as it is, Cuba does not revolve around Havana alone. We took a Transtur bus down south-east to the still-stuck-back-in-1514 town of Trinidad and the beaches of the Peninsula Ancon, which is an easy Cocotaxi/bicycle ride away from the Plaza Central. Trinidad itself is a visual feast. With its cobbled streets and multitude of horse drawn carts (and continual clatter of hooves) it does indeed feel a little like stepping back in time. Make sure to sample the local seafood and the musical delights of the Casa Musica which remains open until the early hours.   
 

Leaving Trinidad behind we made the mistake of taking a minibus to the Pinar del Rio region west of Havana and a little town called Vinales. We were promised a much faster journey at the same price as the bus. Hurtling past the Cuban countryside I have never been so scared in my life. Take the bus is my advice. It takes the same time, it’s the same price or maybe even cheaper and you’ll arrive without having had a stroke.
 

The town of Vinales itself is so small you can walk from one end to the other in less than 10 minutes. There is a lot to see in the beautiful surrounding valley including tobacco farms and cigar factories, a multitude of caves (one has a waterfall inside) and the two nearby islands of Cayo Jutia (more for the locals) and Cayo Levisa. Levisa is an uninhabited island (apart from a few bungalows) within easy reach of town by bus and then by ferry (you can get an all inclusive ticket for both with a light snack thrown in). The island is made up of mangroves and boasts a spectacular stretch of white sandy beach which you can explore at leisure. Make sure you don’t miss the last ferry back to the mainland at 5pm.  
 

You can see a lot in 10 days, but don’t expect to understand much of what you see. Instead of rum, salsa and Hemingway I discovered a landscape infinitely more complex and at times painfully dysfunctional. As an outsider it is extremely difficult to ignore the incentive-less conditions in which Cubans need to play out their lives. It is a tired country; a country of no political debate, no freedom of information. People are not allowed to own new cars. The population is dependent on rations. It’s true that hospitals and education is free, but what are you supposed to do with free education if there are no opportunities?

 

Some say things are changing in Cuba, but I think it’s going to take much more than the propaganda lining the highways and byways alone to reignite the fire of this magical and confusing place.