There is a sleepy haze around Havana, one that makes you want to fall into a deep slumber filled with dreams about the Spanish colonial buildings, graffiti-lined alleys and classic old cars. Havana is definitively feminine, a woman who knows the power of her charms, beautiful albeit damaged, untouched in some places and scarred in others. She seduced me the moment I stepped out of the airport, with the sun and humid air as her accomplices. She is like a glass of her own rum: dark, smooth, going down warm and staying with you long after your first taste. Intoxication comes easily in this city, more so for me in the mental rather than physical form, as Havana takes pieces of your soul while you sleepwalk through her streets. She is at the same time tranquil and vibrant, a spectrum of colors smeared on a canvas by carefree hands and yet still nothing short of a masterpiece if you don't stare too deeply into the surface. It didn't take long to fall under her spell. Continue reading →