I disrelish communism. I abhor totalitarian regimes. I abhor any government that willfully muzzles its people even if the country appears to prosper. I am a purveyor of the right to self-determination, free speech, right to association and right to own property. Call me naive, but I’m sold on democracy and democratic principles.

Cuba is a communist country. But Cuba holds an allure. It is the biggest Island in the Caribbean by size and population. It is the ancestral home of cigars. The Montecristo,  Cohiba, Partagas and Romeo y Julieta. And of course, there is Cuba’s interesting and fraught relationship with Uncle Sam. I am interested in culture, people and history.

So, why did I go to Cuba?

It is romanticism.  It was the missus 40th birthday and we wanted to do something different. Go somewhere we’ll likely never go back to. Learn deeply about the people, their struggle and their lives. If we can inspire them by our lives and words, then, it would have been a great birthday experience. Plus, well, we’ve never been to a communist country before. This is Cuba, after all. Fidel Castro. Bay of Pigs Invasion. The Cuban Missile Crisis. 1950s cars.

As part of the birthday jaunt, we were travelling to Miami, New Orleans, Houston, and Cancun. Havana would be a nice addition, wouldn’t it?

If we can get a Cuban visa.

Cuba does not do simple.

In retrospect, getting the Cuba visa was straightforward. But for guys like me who tend to overthink stuff and apply too much caution, the visa process was angst-filled.

Only 20 countries are visa-free to Cuba. As you would expect, Nigeria is not among those lucky countries. But rest assured we are in good company. Citizens of the US, the UK, Canada, the EU and about one hundred and seventy-five other countries, also need visas to visit Cuba.

I had read on a couple of websites that you can get a Cuba Tourist Card at your departure airport or from your airline. This ‘tourist card’ allows you to travel to Cuba for up to 30 days for tourist purposes. But I’m Nigerian. We don’t believe good things come easy. Surely, getting a Cuba tourist visa or tourist card can’t be as easy as getting it from a travel agency or an airline? Or can it? A direct confirmation from the embassy was in order.

The Cuban embassy website was no help. Cuba has an embassy in Abuja but good luck finding it. Per Google searches, the Cuba Embassy is on Diplomatic Drive in Abuja. But we just couldn’t locate it. The phone numbers didn’t work either. Neither did the email. It was as if the embassy didn’t want to be found. I even wrote the Cuba Foreign Mission in Washington DC. Crickets.

But my resolve was untiring. I shall drink a daiquiri at La Floridita and hug Ernest Hemingway!

I even combed a few streets in Lagos that purportedly housed the Cuban consulate. But no luck. I was beginning to despair.

But after weeks of searching, I struck gold.

The Cuba Foreign Mission in Washington replied to my email.

It turns out I can indeed buy the visa (a Tourist Card) from approved travel agents. Or from the airline if I’m flying directly from the US to Havana. They gave me an email address and phone numbers of an approved travel agent in Miami.

Well, if that isn’t bee’s knees!

It sounded too good to be true. Too easy. But I’m Nigerian. One more check.

As we were flying American Airlines from Miami International Airport to Havana, I reached out to the airline’s office in Havana. I also emailed the travel agent. The Havana office of American Airlines confirmed I can buy the visa (tourist card) at a stand next to their Cuba check-in desk at MIA. The travel agency also confirmed that as long as we had multiple-entry B1/B2 visas, they’ll sell us the tourist card. We could buy it on the day of travel or online in advance. But they will only ship the visas to a US address if I ordered it online.

Deal me up!

The Cuban Tourist Card itself is a slip of paper. Like a cheque. Only lighter. Because of the beef between the US and Cuba, the visa fee is $100 if you’re flying in from the US. It is a pathetic $20 if you’re flying from other countries.

Sigh. Innocent people always get caught up in wars.

But there’s a catch to flying to Cuba from the US.

You see, the US has a trade embargo on Cuba. American businesses cannot do business in Cuba and American citizens cannot travel to Cuba for tourism. This tourism prohibition in fact does extend to anyone — American citizens and non-Americans — flying to Cuba from a US airport. That includes the missus and I.

The US Department of Treasury lists categories under which Americans or any persons travelling from a US airport can visit Cuba legally without requiring the Department of Treasury permission in advance. These categories are known as “general travel licenses” and there are 12 of them. The airline requires you to tick one before a ticket can be sold to you. You can read more about the licenses here.

The license we selected and under which most Americans travel to Cuba is the ‘Support for Cuban People’ license. In summary, it entails:

(i). Not staying in government-owned hotels. The US embargo aims to starve the Cuban government of funds and hope economic hardship would make the country reform. Therefore any American or non-American travelling to Cuba from an American airport, cannot stay in a Cuban-government-run hotel. That will be putting money in the pocket of the communist Cuban government. The Department of Treasury publishes a list of hotels not to stay in Cuba.

(ii) You should only stay in ‘casa particulars’ or people’s homes. AirBnB. This puts money directly in the pockets of ordinary Cubans. Remember, America’s fight with Cuba is not with the people but with the Cuban government.

(iii). You should only eat in ‘paladares,’ family-owned or private restaurants. Again this puts money directly into ordinary Cubans’ pockets and not the government’s.

(iii). You should only engage in full-time activities that guarantee meaningful exchanges with the Cuban people. You therefore can’t chill on the beach and drink mojitos all day. That’s touristy. It is not allowed.

Why does America have it in for Cuba so much? Here is an informative timeline of US-Cuba relations.

Now that I knew how to get to Cuba, I still had a nagging fear —  a Cuba stamp in my passport.

In 2021, before leaving office, the President Trump administration designated Cuba as a State Sponsor of Terrorism. Many Western countries and US allies do not agree with the designation and the lingering US embargo on Cuba. But will a Cuba entry and exit stamp in my passport impact my future entry into the US or my ability to get a US visa in the future?

Per our itinerary, we’d fly to Havana from Miami. Then fly back to Miami, from where we’d take another flight to Cancun, Mexico. And then from Cancun, we’d fly back to Houston. We would be entering the US three times within nine days. That feels a little odd, doesn’t it? Will our trip to Cuba give us issues with CBP at Miami and Houston? Anecdotally, a few commentators online tended to think so. But the majority of people, most of whom had made the trip themselves and entered the US afterwards with visas, believed it was a non-issue. If anything, the CBP folks may just be envious of you for travelling to Cuba.

My angst was unnecessary. On our return to Miami, the CBP bloke who interviewed us only wanted to know if we brought back cigars, rum or any other contraband items. We didn’t. We were processed in without suspicion or interest.

If I thought we got lucky the first time, our Cuba stamps were greeted with the same disinterest when we flew back to Houston a few days later from Cancun.

But while in Havana, we stayed within the limits of the permission of the Support for Cuban People license. You do not want to be running foul of Uncle Sam’s laws. We stayed in casa particulars or AirBnB. We only ate at paladares. And we spent our entire two-and-a-half days interacting with Cubans and learning about their lives. You might have thought we were ethnographers and journalists.

So, what was Havana like?

A time warp to the ‘50s.

Crumbling buildings. Sputtering 1950s vehicles. Narrow and dirty streets.

Walking through the streets of Havana felt like walking through a war zone. Many buildings are decaying, the result of austerity and incessant hurricanes (Hurricane Ian hit Cuba one week after we left). This is a city that has been beaten by man and nature. There is privation around every corner.

I find Havana quaint and surreal though. I like real cities.

The missus, not much.

Right from the airport, I knew she wasn’t going to take to Havana.

The Arrivals section of the José Martí International Airport is as joyless as the Arrivals section of Murtala Muhammed International Airport. It was poorly lit and outmoded. Immigration officials pulled us over and went through our passports. The missus and I have loads of visas and stamps in our passports. Three officials huddled in a corner and scrutinized our passports, casting glances at us as. Perhaps we were spies? Mr and Mrs Smith. Maybe drug dealers or some wanted people. We were after all Nigerians. A senior-looking officer came over to question us. Where were we coming from? What was our mission in Cuba? Where are we staying? How much money do we have on us? How long are we staying in Cuba? Where is our destination after leaving Cuba? I found the questions within the ambit of an immigration officer’s power. I found it all exhilarating and amusing.

Mrs Alade didn’t. She was irritated and angry. If any country was going to deny us entry, it shouldn’t be some broke, dirty and crumbling country that looks like it could do with tourists’ dollars!

Calm down, sweetheart. This is a communist country. Suspicion is second nature.

Our passports were handed back. We were asked to proceed to border control. They separated us. It was the first time I was frisked by a female security officer.

On our way back out of Cuba, our visas elicited as much scrutiny. The young pretty border officer that processed me kept running her thumb over my Schengen visa. What was her business with my Schengen visa? She hardly glanced at my Cuban visa or my US visa. Only the Schengen. She spent an interminable time running her thumb over the visa while adorning a stern mien. Her nails were nicely painted. She was pretty too.

Yea, I guess some people find a king cobra pretty too. 

Our Airbnb accommodation was in the quaint La Habana Vieja (Old Havana) district. It’s a UNESCO-designated World Heritage Site. Santi – for Santiago – was our Airbnb host. He was the best host ever. Per many blog posts and YouTube videos, Cuba was supposed to be an internet blackhole. WiFi was scant and mobile data is regulated and slow. But Santi provided us with a prepaid SIM loaded with data on the house.

I received this offer with mixed emotions. I was hoping that it would indeed be difficult to get on the internet in Havana. No office emails, no WhatsApp messages, no Instagram. Just meaningful human interactions. But I wasn’t going to be afforded such luxuries thanks to Santi. Worse, his apartment also had free Wi-Fi!

You suck, Santi!

Santi also served as our CADECA. CADECAs are state-owned foreign exchange offices. You go to a bank or a CADECA to exchange your foreign currency for Cuban pesos (CUP). $1 exchange for 110 CUP. €1 exchanged for 120 CUP.

These rates are more or less fixed by my research. So it was easy for Santi and I to do business. If I needed to change my dollars, I simply texted Santi (using Google Translate) and he came over to the apartment with the pesos I needed. Santi made our lives very comfortable in Havana.

Havana is a small city. Walking around was easy. I like walking.

What struck me about Havana?

Why, the 1950s cars, of course! They are one of the attractions of Cuba. When the US embargo kicked in in 1961, it left Cuba stuck with American cars with no spare parts. But Cubans are resourceful. They scavenge and cobble parts together to get the cars running. Now, they’ve become a landmark of the country and are prized by tourists. A 30-minute ride in one is upwards of $40. If it is a convertible and shiny, expect to pay more.

For an impoverished city, Havana is incredibly safe. I’d read about how safe it was and can confirm it. You never felt unsafe late at night, even when I had an expensive camera slung over my shoulder and was an obvious tourist. Violent crimes or mugging are non-existent in Cuba. Only street-smart hustle. Blokes offering to sell you authentic (but fake) Cuban cigars on the cheap. Moms begging you for money to buy milk for her child (scam). Rickshaws asking to be paid in dollars instead of pesos because they know you are a tourist. Nothing to be upset about. Besides, we are here to support the Cuban people.

We didn’t like the food though. Rice and beans and pork are a staple in Cuba. And mango and avocado. But the lemonades and fruit juices are homemade, fresh and the best. Cuba must have the most fragrant mint leaves in the world.

We did find a nice restaurant a block from our accommodation. Lo De Monik. Air-conditioned and cosy. We liked the restaurant and the food a lot.

On our last night in Havana, we ate at San Cristóbal Paladar in Habana Centro (Central Havana). President Obama and the First Family ate there in 2016 when they visited Havana. Beyonce and Jay Z also ate at the restaurant in 2013. It was the best dinner we’d had in Havana.

Viñales Valley

We went on a day trip to the picturesque town of Viñales, a two-and-a-half-hour drive from Havana. You can’t talk about Cuba without talking about cigars. And you can’t talk about cigars without talking about Viñales. The region reportedly makes the best cigars in Cuba and by extension, the world.

I quit smoking eleven years ago. And when I smoked, I never developed a taste for cigars. Partly because they were too expensive, partly because I was perhaps not hedonistic enough to luxuriate in a cigar. But I’ll be remiss to visit Cuba and not learn how its most famous export was made. And Viñales was the place.

Our Airbnb host hooked us up with a taxi to take us to Viñales and back. It was a hefty €150. But it was a well-air-conditioned car. Some Chinese car brand. Our driver didn’t speak a word of English as indeed many people in Cuba. We communicated via Google Translate. Meaningful human exchange.

There is not a lot to do in Viñales. You visited a tobacco farm (and ride a horse if you want). You went into a cave. You visited the Mural de la Prehistoria.

I have ticked Cuba off my bucket list. Will I go back there? Unlikely. Do I like the place? Not particularly.

Three days was too short to do justice to Cuba. But it is a country my heart bleeds for. A country I pray rises from its hardship and prospers.

On to Mexico then.

And oh, the birthday girl.