A woman in torn jeans and a ruffled top talks on a cell phone as we get ready to board our Cubana Air flight to Havana from Cancun. The men in line next to us check three flat-screen Samsung TV sets, and bring aboard a stack of Italian panini presses as carry-on luggage. The plane is Soviet-made. The snacks are Canadian. We know we're on our way to Cuba when, once airborne, the flight attendant offers a choice of pineapple juice, orange juice or rum.
An hour later, we land in Havana's modern and efficient airport. An immigration agent checks our passports, but doesn’t stamp them. We pass through metal detectors where a security worker wearing tight white shorts, a black tank top and white sandals wands us down. TSA not.
“Welcome to Cuba,’’ she says with a smile, and we're in.
Read all about our recent trip to Cuba by clicking here.
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