The trip was almost a year ago, and already so much has changed since then. It’s a little bittersweet looking back now. A couple hours after that, I was touching down in Havana, ready for three days of city exploration, ropa vieja, and Havana Club. Had it not been for this surreptitious text message, though, my plans would have likely just been shuffled to the back burner, as so many travel plans are.Ī few weeks later, I found myself wandering around Fort Lauderdale International, waiting for the Cuba visa agent to arrive at the gate so I could purchase my travel visa. Cuba was one of those places I had always wanted to visit, especially before it was changed by an influx of American real estate developers and hoteliers (something that, for better or for worse, has now been momentarily postponed). Luckily, flights were still cheap, I had some vacation time saved up at work, and I had just renewed my passport a few months prior. My friend’s original travel plans had fallen through, leaving her with her flights and lodging already booked, but no travel companion. It was a stroke of incredible fortune that led me to Cuba. Many homes have makeshift platforms that cut the rooms in half vertically, adding more living space to quarters that would otherwise just be cavernously tall. Walking through the streets, you can peek into any number of dilapidated buildings that still sport the familiar architecture of the area-marble floors, tall ceilings, carefully carved crown molding, wrought iron handrails lining sweeping marble staircases, and intricate elevators that now sit motionless. The opulence is still there, but aside from the select buildings that have been maintained, much of it has fallen into disrepair. It was a city that called to travelers from all over the world, who couldn't stay away from the city's cobbled streets, laid back attitude, and subtly sweet mojitos that continue to be out of this world, even as its own history of rum making has seen its share of upheaval. It's a glimpse into a bygone era-one of opulence and luxury, built from Havana's past as a booming port and a colonial jewel. You can still see it in the buildings that have been preserved over the years by the government and transformed into museums or converted into hotels.

It's not hard to imagine what Old Havana may have been like in its heyday. This is only part analogy many of the buildings in Old Havana are actually peeling, and reveal layers upon layers of paint that have long since sloughed off the walls. From the candy-colored cars seemingly plucked from fantasies of old Hollywood, to the run-down colonial architecture on every street, it's a timeline that presents itself like a wall peeling with decades of paper and paint. But the phrase almost implies that time has stood still, when in fact it's the ravages of time and political turmoil that makes the port city the unique place it is today. After all, where else can you go that still has so many classic 1950s American cars roaming the streets (as many as 60,000 apparently), sprinkled among vehicles from defunct Soviet Union automakers and newer models from China and Korea. It's alluring to refer to Old Havana as a time machine.

Hostal habana vieja 55