I have had a curiosity to go to Cuba for many years, for many reasons, not least of which is that entry by Americans has been so restricted. If there are that many rules and regulations prohibiting easy access, that's all the more reason to go!

For years, Americans have been forced to enter and exit through Canada, or Mexico, or Venezuela. That was loosened up by President Obama, but don't think that makes it a easy as other nearby places, say the Dominican Republic or Jamaica. But no place anywhere embodies the old work charm of Cuba.

You have to have a valid reason to go. "Having fun" or "going on vacation" are not two of them. Here's the checklist:

Family visits;
Official business of the U.S. government, foreign governments, and certain intergovernmental organizations;
Journalistic activity;
Professional research and professional meetings;
Educational activities: person-to-person activities;
Religious activities;
Public performances, clinics, workshops, athletic and other competitions, and exhibitions;
Support for the Cuban people;
Humanitarian projects;
Activities of private foundations or research or educational institutes;
Exportation, importation, or transmission of information or informational materials; and
Certain authorized export transactions.

So my valid reason for going was "Education . . . Person to Person." (By the way, I incorrectly assumed these were Cuba's rules for entry. They aren't. They're OUR rules for permitting Americans to go.)

The trip was organized by the bicycling group "Wilderness Voyageurs", a USA-based Company making its first venture to Cuba. This was my 11th bike trip on 4 continents, and first by the Voyageurs.

I'll get to the biking part later, but first, the "Education . . . Person to Person" part. WV works, as required by Cuba, in collaboration with a local Cuban tourist group to create the agenda. During our time there, each day we had meetings scheduled with a cultural institute . . . a Director of a National Park . . . a number of local historians . . . an "entrepreneur" . . . a Community for Democratic Reform (kind of like a neighborhood association here, but they have a Director of Surveillance, whatever that means) . . . a tobacco farm . . . a cigar-rolling workshop, which must have been fun because it was cancelled . . . the Ernest Hemingway Home and Museum . . . a guided tour of the Bay of Pigs . . . architectural historians . . . and a tour of Guantanamo bay. I'm only kidding about the last one. You can't go to Guantanamo unless you don't mind never getting out.

So how did we do all that, while covering Havana, Matanzas, Remedios, Santa Clara, Trinidad, Cienfuegos, and the Bay of Pigs? Starting each day at 7 helped a lot. And I shouldn't neglect that getting from place to place was not all biking, as there was a very comfortable bus for long stretches. These rides also served as time for lectures on life in Cuba by our Cuban guide, Jorge, and our American-guide-hired-by-Cuba Danny, who told the worst jokes but had the most winning and energetic personality.

I'll only say that the Cuban perspective on the last 58 years of being the target of an American embargo comes through quite clearly. And their perspective, somewhat predictable, is both an effect and a cause of some of the economic calamity you see.

Next, the group: what hoot! There were five funny and smart people from Portland (Oregon, not Maine), a Father/Son combination from California, a sister combo from Colorado and Montana, single women from upstate New York and Colorado, an amazing retired biker from Ohio, and a Doctor from Tennessee. We all got along great, not the least reason being that beer cost $1 and a mojito, made 1950's style with a pestle crushing herbs, was $2.50. There were attorneys, doctors, a Psychiatrist (just in case of a breakdown of the mind, not of a bike), a retired CEO, and other retired people like me.

The Cuban people were lovely, warm and welcoming. And the Casa Particulares, their Bed and Breakfasts, were comfortable, quiet enough, and best of all, air-conditioned.

Our days were between 10 miles and 45 miles, most closer to 45 than 10. The biking was fairly flat, except for day 2 with a 3 mile hill followed by a 4 mile hill. For some reason, there always seemed to be headwinds.

The best part, other than the mojitos? The weather, the beautiful, warm, and welcoming people, and the crab crossing: you must watch this to believe it:

and swimming in the Bay of Pigs.

The worst part? The food . . . when the consistently best dish at EVERY dinner is ropa vieja, which means "old clothes", you know you're in trouble. This comes from a New Yorker who actually returned from vacation in Italy, many years ago, and his only complaint was that "you can get better Italian food in New York." This time I mean it: you can get better Cuban food in New York than in Cuba. Also, be prepared for no toilet seats and be sure to bring your own toilet paper

Before I went, people seemed envious and said almost uniformly that it was good to go now, before it explodes with American investment. They're concerned about Marriotts and McDonalds on every corner. I would say to relax, as it's not going to change that quickly . . . the 1950's cars and the 1960's politics will be around for quite a while.