The locals in Havana waited outside the few shops to purchase the few goods available. In some instances, the security guards (an expanding industry) restricted access to one person at a time as the queues meandered along potholed pavements

By the side of the motorway people waited, waited on the sun baked tarmac with their babes in arms and their bagged belongings for a lift to the next town. In rural areas Cuba has few reliable vehicles and an ineffective public transport system and so people wait for hours in the heat and hope that someone will come by and give them a ride. If the waiting family is fortunate enough to secure a lift they are likely to have to wait again at a police motorway checkpoint, whilst their papers are checked and their vehicle is searched. Not that the search will necessarily be about drugs or weapons: in a one-party state the authorities are powerful and suspicious, the police could simply be looking for black beans being taken illegally from the countryside to the town. In Cuba, Beanz Meanz Crimz.

Food, and beans, were plentiful during our stay. In Vinales, the rural area in the west of the country, four of us ate with a local family and enjoyed a meal of superb local lobster. During a visit to a tobacco farm we drank the excellent strong home grown coffee. Fresh greens were often missing from menus but I reasoned that the Cuban cigars were constructed of vegetable matter and that a large one was the equivalent of two of my five a day. The other three were made up of the green sugar cane disguised as the rum in my glass. Given the fact that Cuba sits in sunshine, is seven hundred miles long with a population a fifth of the UK’s one would imagine that the country would be self-sufficient in food, but sadly the majority of the food needs to be imported. As we traveled we observed that much of the land remained uncultivated. Of course, we argued, the Cubans could rectify the situation, but cultivation takes investment and machinery, and both have been in short supply for a very long time.

Money for Cubans is also in short supply. Two currencies circulate, the Peso, in which Cubans are paid and the Convertible Peso (CUC) which is the currency of the visitor and the only currency accepted in most businesses and shops. There are twenty four Pesos to each CUC; the average wage is three hundred Pesos a month and a pair of non-branded jeans costs fifteen CUC, a pair of children’s school shoes costs seven CUC, or half a month’s wages. From these figures you can appreciate that many Cubans are desperately poor. Poor in some areas but rich in others since; the Cuban revolution has seen the introduction of a first class and pioneering national health service and also education for all.

Following our days in the countryside we returned to Havana and as we walked the streets we were again approached by a guitarist, he claimed to have been a member of the Buena Vista Social Club. The ‘musician’ struck up a tune on his instrument that was missing a string. The resultant discordant notes seemed to act as a metaphor for a country that was hoping for change but remained uncertain as to what that change would look like. Will Obama really wish to invest in an undemocratic communist state? Could the social advances in health and education be maintained? Would investment bring an end to Cuba’s unique character if Whopper burger and Starbland came to town? For all of its problems Cuba remains an exciting vibrant destination. If you love music you will love Cuba, they need you and , yes, your money…good to lie on a beach but better to meet the people. Let’s hope that the people achieve a peaceful change that preserves the best of what they have.