They came to Cuba legally, on a cultural tour, to see for themselves. Many were appalled, a few were enraptured, one just wanted to dance. Join them in this three-part visit to Cuba.

Part 1: Havana trip was so close, yet so far
The carcass of the city was laid out under a leaden sky. Houses and apartment towers fused into a brittle, deteriorating mass, a petrified settlement. A few moppish trees were all that subverted the grid of peeling surfaces and darkened windows. Some carrier pigeons occupied one of the low flat roofs like lone survivors. It was a landscape of unparalleled bleakness (why have the names Beckett and Havana never been linked?) and, like a car wreck, horribly riveting. I could not turn away from my ninth-floor window.

Part 3: A trip to the provinces of Cuba
The city fell away quickly, replaced by a rich, uncomplicated greenness. We could feel at last, as our van sailed east toward Santa Clara, that we were in the Caribbean.