Cuba

American Airlines from Boston to Miami, then Miami to Cienfuegos. Cuba had only recently reopened to American travelers, and the infrastructure reflected decades of isolation. The Hotel Jagua, the Plaza de Marti, and a city that felt frozen in time.

Everything about Cuba was different from anywhere I’d been. The classic cars, the crumbling architecture, the ingenuity of people making everything work with nothing. Wi-Fi was available at public squares if you bought a card, and that was about it.

I’d come back to Havana four months later. Cuba gets under your skin in a way that’s hard to explain — it’s not comfortable, but it’s unforgettable.