We stumbled into Havana with a barley passible vocabulary of Spanish phrases, a copy of Lonely Planet Cuba and two cameras. Our nebulous plan involved wandering the streets, snapping photos and soaking in the beautiful decay of this forbidden country.
After four days we had accomplished our goal. Between the two of us we had taken well over a thousand photos, dug deep into the politics that divides our two nations, consumed Mojitos at the National, and located Fidel’s hidden missiles. But don’t take my word for it, these pictures can tell their own story.