

There is simply nowhere quite like Havana. The '50s cars, the crumbling buildings – it really is like the postcards. Down and dirty, Havana is not for the faint-hearted. And Habaneros are supposed to be the best-looking people in the world.
Sundays at the Callejon Hammel, a little alley east of the Hotel Nacional edging towards Centro Havana, which has been taken over by an art gallery and covered in murals: late morning they start a rumba with just congas, Afro-Cuban chants and dancing. Get there early for a good spot. Wednesday and Saturday late afternoons at UNEAC in Vedado – the writers' and artists' union. The Café Huron Azul is a hang-out for film-makers, writers and intellectuals. El Gato Tuerto, near the Nacional, is popular with tourists and has great Cuban torch singers and jazz groups. The terrace of the Hotel Nacional itself has good groups and is a fine place to sip a mojito while you watch the peacocks and enjoy the view of the sea. Look out for the El Viejo Sauce quartet – Ry Cooder rates the tres player. The Salon Rosado in Miramar, known also as La Tropical, is where the young groups mixing rap and salsa play, and on weekends it is a heaving mass of dancing Cubans. There's a beautiful outdoor dance floor surrounded by a '50s pink fantasy of a stage and bars. To go on the dance floor is to invite theft and unpleasantness. But foreigners are always steered to the balcony which overlooks the dance floor. Spectacular.
The classic Hemingway haunts – La Bodequita del Medio (for mojitos) and La Floridita (for daquiris), a handy stone's throw apart – are worth a visit but they can be over-run with tourists. The Riviera, in Vedado, west of the Nacional along the Malecon, is the last of the great '50s hotels, which for years was untouched since New Year's Eve 1959. It has recently suffered a few "improvements" but is still pretty marvelous. The bar off the lobby of the Hotel Inglaterra in the main square on the edge of Habana Vieja is wonderful, as is the roof terrace.
Cuba is not a gastronomic destination, let there be no doubt about that. The Cuban palate has a taste for deep frying, large portions of meat and little in the way of vegetables. State-run restaurants are in the majority and serve bad food at inflated prices. Instead, check out the paladares – restaurants in people's houses, serving home-cooked food.
La Guarida in Centro Habana (Calle Concordia #418, entre Gervasio y Escobar (264 4940) has a reputation as the best in the city. Housed in a crumbling tenement on an unlit street in a frankly intimidating part of Havana, it would be tempting to clamber straight back into the battered taxi that brought you there had it not already disappeared down the street in a vapour of diesel. It's reminiscent of the dodgy parts of lower Manhattan when there were still dodgy parts of lower Manhattan, before they were gentrified and all the buildings turned into art galleries and clothing stores. It even smells the same, that pungent aromatic blend of decaying rubbish and cat piss, except everywhere in Havana there's also an underlying smell of cigar smoke and rum too. Up a grand marble staircase with chunks missing out of it – 'Fresa y Chocolate' was shot here – then a few more flights to the third floor and there's a bell to ring, and finally you are inside and can start to relax because somebody offers you a drink and there are good smells and some funky found objects, interesting-looking people. The food is exceptional – grouper is the speciality – somehow distinctively Cuban but light and delicious and innovative.
La Cocina de Lilliam in Miramar (Calle 48 #1311, entre 13 y 15, Playa (209 6514) is a beautiful garden paladar, also with terrific food, and a friend recommends Hubert and Manolo's Esperanza in Miramar (Calle 16 #105, entre 1 y 3, (224361) which he describes as the Elaine's of Havana, having the ambience of a kitsch '50s house with wonderful food and a welcoming atmosphere. Prices are cheaper than in Dublin, but not by much.
Che and Fidel – the twin poster boys of the revolution – are merchandised to the point of ubiquity. Look out for delightful papier mache religious iconography in the markets.
Are everywhere. Havana is a smoker's paradise. A visit to the Partagas Cigar Factory is worthwhile, and the shop attached to the factory has one of the best selections in the city. Prices seem high (though much cheaper than at home) but at least here you are assured that you are getting the genuine article – elsewhere counterfeits abound.
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Taxis are plentiful although unlikely to be anything more comfortable than a battered Lada held together with pieces of string. Because street lighting is so inadequate, walking around Havana at night feels more dangerous than it is reputed to be. You decide, but either way carrying a large amount of cash or wearing conspicuous jewellery is not recommended. Be sure not to miss an evening walk or ride down the Malecon – the promenade.
We stayed at the Saratoga, in Habana Vieja, a newly refurbished addition to the upper-end hotel offering in the city. The location was terrific and the rooms stylish, though a tad noisy. Caribbean Collection (www.caribbeancollection.ie) offers packages including the elegant (though some might say down-at-heel) Hotel Nacional, declared a national monument in 1998, with impressive views out over the Malecon.
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