You ascend charcoal-colored stone steps, the refreshing breeze carries respite and the smell of tobacco. An ethereal sun-kissed Goddess holds your hand, enticing you to climb faster.
OP-ED post about massage in cuba.
The idyllic, sprawling, tropical landscape of Viñales was fading fast. The clandestine jungles would soon be replaced by the concrete jungle. We were not headed to a new city, we were headed to a new world. Havana was waiting.
Come read about Cuba! But not in the traditional sense of a travel review.