I didn’t think that they would do Havana justice in any way and so I was fairly ambivalent when I was taking them. That attitude may have worked in my favour as they turned out to be my favourite. They seem to show a lot more of the decrepitude that the vibrancy of the colour photos seem to hide.

It’s quarter to nine and I am absolutely exhausted. My first full day in Cuba and it feels as though I have taken in a week’s worth of sights and experience. I feel like I am in a different world, and of course in many ways I am.

No less than 10 minutes after leaving the hotel this morning and I was whisked off by two local women, Betty and Isobel, who walked me round the city to see salsa bars, historical places and a lesson in Cuban culture, it’s economy, delights and downfalls and all for the price of a round of Mojitos. A bargain in my eyes.

I spent the rest of the morning walking the obvious tourist areas and parks and just tried to soak up the city as I walked around. The only downside to being 6 foot and blonde in Havana is that there is no way you could be anything but a tourist, a feeling I haven’t felt anywhere since visiting Hong Kong.

Tourism is Cuba’s main industry and this is strongly felt as you walk around turning taxi drivers, horse and carriage drivers, artists and vendors down with a huge sense of guilt knowing how much your convertible tourist peso means to them. It took a lot of strength to say no to certain people pleading for me to take them up on whatever they were offering, the main factor really being just how expensive things are in the convertible peso. Cuba is not cheap as a tourist but you really can understand why with all the trade embargoes the country is under. I allowed myself to get completely ripped off by artists on the steps of the Capital building, for an extortionate amount, purely because I really enjoyed talking to them. You really can’t help but feeling like a walking wallet but it comes with an unusual sense of empathy.

In other countries you feel happy to barter and bargain your purchases, in Cuba you feel almost cruel. This also comes with other mixed feelings. In countries such as Sierra Leone I felt happy to be persuaded into buying jewellery or carvings I may not necessarily have wanted as they were for so little money, whereas here we are talking prices above those in England and a round of mojitos or a meal can cost you more than £20 easily.

I quickly learnt to look out for crowds of Cubans piling into ice cream shops and supermarkets to buy food on the go and avoid extremely high prices. Obviously anything imported is far more expensive and it’s really an experience to try the Cuban versions of various foods, and as I had read, the food is nothing short of interesting. In the hotels and more touristy cafes the food is labelled in western terms but you really can’t predict what you are going to get no matter what you order. The fruit is delicious, and the coffee is by far the best I have ever tasted. The breakfast bar at my hotel is a very bizarre concoction of delights on offer, which as anyone who knows me well knows, is pretty much how I construct meals and so suits me beautifully. This morning I had a strange mixture of Serrano ham, fruit, quiche, pastry and a stilton-like cream cheese.

Walking around I had amassed at least 200 photos in a matter of hours with about 70 I truly liked, which isn’t a bad ratio. There is something beautiful to photograph every step you make in Havana, much to the bemusement of the locals. In the afternoon I walked down to the Malecon, an extremely long road which attracts Havana’s youth in the evenings. I walked to the Museum of the Revolution and the Museum of Art, I was very much in the mood to continue walking but couldn’t help but stop and marvel at the enormous bugs on the outside of the Art Museum.

So far my favourite aspect of Havana just has to be the run down 14th Century plazas in their various states and colours. They are just breathtaking and you can’t help but imagine what they were like when they were in prime condition.

By late afternoon the temperature had begun to get incredibly high and so I went back to the hotel to cool down. I found myself on the rooftop pool and realised I had very little idea really how to be ‘on holiday’ I haven’t travelled in a non-work capacity for years and really felt as though I should be doing something rather than sitting on a pool lounger. However, the jetlag had taken hold and I was just incapable of doing anything other than enjoying the incredible view and reading my book. It was a beautiful way to see the sunset and people watch in the streets of Havana below. After a welcome break I am ready for another mojito and can already hear the music beginning in the streets outside.

So I’m in Cuba. The flight was incredible. I have never been one to look out of the window but the light was beautiful and the sky so clear that as we crossed the Atlantic I could see ships crossing the ocean. I couldn’t help but put my iPod on and just stare out across the Atlantic. It was so vast, which slightly terrifies me but it was just incredibly beautiful. Then after a few hours suddenly there was a tiny island surrounded by a beautiful turquoise coastline, Bermuda.

I arrived in Cuba just before 6pm and it was startling to walk off the plane to an airport full of workers wearing face masks. We then all had to fill in a sanitisation form declaring we hadn’t suffered from certain symptoms. It seems Cuba is not taking any chances when it comes to Swine Flu. The other aspect of the airport that I found myself marvelling at was people standing around smoking cigars in the terminal. It truly shows how quickly we have adapted to the smoking ban in the UK.

The only way to get your hands on Cuban currency is to exchange it at the Cuban airport, it was my first experience with indifferent Cuban service but finally I got my convertible pesos and got into a taxi to take my into Havana and on to my hotel. The taxi driver delighted in putting on his special CD for my benefit. It consisted of serious 80s power ballads, the Beatles and the Eagles. It certainly was in interesting soundtrack to my first views of Cuba. Driving into Havana my eyes couldn’t help but boggle at the ranges of cars from Chevys to Ladas, we drove pass tiny cars in pieces wedged into the backs of buses. We had to stop for my taxi driver to exchange a few more of his special CDs with another cab driver. Through factories, apartment blocks and government buildings we then entered Havana and the streets full of hoards of people waiting for buses amongst incredible old and run down buildings. The taxi driver gave me a guided tour of the monuments in Spanish.

I realised that I was responding to him in a mixture of French and Italian and vowed that I would go through my Spanish phrase book as soon as I arrived at the hotel. We managed to be in fits of giggles through the mixture of his Spanish and my pigeon mix of languages and then arrived at Hotel Saratoga which stands out like a sore thumb of decadence among the other historic and shabby buildings.Across from the hotel is the capitol building, which is a carbon copy of it’s US counterpart. After a strawberry daiquiri and some very strange Cuban national television I am going to bed with my bag packed full of camera, film and maps for a day on foot into old Havana for coffee and photos. It is beautiful here and I can’t wait to hit the streets.