Cuba. I keep looking for a word to describe it. A word to title it. A word to capture it.

Of course it’s about the cars. And it’s magnificent. But it’s dilapidated. It’s homogeneous. It’s diverse. It’s multi-cultural. It’s communist. It’s colorful. It’s timeworn. It’s tattered. It’s an island. It’s a community. It’s eclectic. It’s Spanish guitars. It’s African drums. It’s salsa. It’s rumba. It’s cigars. It’s rum. It’s coffee. It’s art. It’s intoxicating. It’s revolutionary. It’s layered. It’s hard to grasp. It’s easy to see. It’s a journey into another world, frozen in time. It’s a rainbow of people. It’s lives lived out in the open. It’s a country of indescribable magic. And I loved every minute of it.

Amo Esta Isla. I love this island.