In a move that has left travel agents weeping into their mojitos, American sanctions have finally broken the spirit of the once-unconquerable Cuban tourism industry. The land of classic cars, cigar smoke, and revolutionary chic is now as inviting as a tax audit. UK travel firms, ever the nimble-footed dancers of the package holiday world, have already pivoted faster than a salsa star on a broken disc.
They are abandoning Havana’s crumbling grandeur for the safer shores of the Mediterranean. But do not weep for the tourists. They will be swapping rum-soaked nights for bougainvillea-draped tavernas and questionable moussaka.
The news is reported with all the shock of a sunburn on a Scotsman. The US has tightened the economic thumbscrews, and Cuba’s vintage tourist machine has spluttered to a halt. Hotel bookings have plummeted like a poorly landed 1960s Buick.
The UK’s big tour operators have read the tea leaves (or in this case, the coffee grounds) and are shifting their brochures eastwards. Greece, Turkey, Cyprus: these are the new loves. They are the reliable girls next door, not the fiery, unpredictable artist who might steal your wallet while kissing you.
The pivot is business. It is cold, hard, and as inevitable as a hangover after too much cheap brandy. One can almost hear the collective sigh of relief from British travellers who no longer have to navigate dodgy plumbing and mysterious power cuts.
The move is logical. It is cynical. It is also deeply, profoundly sad.
Because Cuba, for all its difficulties, was a place of magic. It was a time capsule, a beautiful disaster. Now it is just a disaster.
The US has won. The tourists have moved on. And the only thing left to do is pour a large gin and toast the memory of what was lost.
