Last week we visited Cuba for 6 days.  It was my first visit, but back in the day my Damon Runyon character dad was a frequent gambling visitor to Havana and was on the last flight out in the final moments of Castro's revolution.

At the outset it was a trying experience as the plane was hours late and when we were all finally on the plane the crew discovered that their passenger count was one short of that of the trip manifest and that the missing passenger had baggage in the hold.

Bomb?  They had to go back to the gate and attempt to locate and remove it as a precaution.  It was interminable, but how could one argue with responsible precaution.

We went to Cuba now because it is fairly early in the evolution of our relations with Cuba and we sought an unspoiled view of a people and a country frozen in a mid 20th century time capsule.

As soon as we got on the tour bus taking us from the airport we heard our guide proudly proclaim "The Triumph of the revolution" and this seemingly sincere pride pervades.  Everywhere we saw the handsome images of Fidel and Che.  Did our guide propagandize us or was she just attempting to share her utopian ardor?  On the other hand she did show us her ration card.

I had the foresight to bring Major League baseballs and little American flags which proved to be valuable barter currency. For example, I traded one American baseball for 5 souvenir Cuban balls.

We went to a Baseball game and the stadium compared poorly to our lowest minor league fields.  The players, however, flashed Major League skills.

The old cars we see and hear about are not a tourist gimmick.  Rather, they are everywhere serving various important functions, eg, taxis.

The squares are alive with beggars who seemed needy and wouldn't take no for an answer.  I gave one young boy a baseball and his face lit up and I believe I made his day (or month).

The architecture was old world beautiful, but crumbling and our guide revealed a rush paint job on the route of the Pope's recent visit.

The food was great (lots of lobster), especially at the private restaurant Paladars,  as was the art and dance.

A highlight was our visit to the venerable (built in 1930) El Nacional Hotel where Meyer Lansky presided from the entire top floor and where my dad visited.  I could feel their presence.

Hard as it may be to believe I shook off my internet addiction and functioned, believe it or not, like a normal person.  I will admit to compensating with an orgy of beautiful photos.

Of course, I bought cigars: Cohibas and Montecristos.

I'm really happy we went. All in all, it was a once in a lifetime possibly never again experience.