I couldn't wait to get to Cuba. Like many a left-leaning, independent traveller, I'd had a long-held ambition to get there 'before Castro dies and corporate America ushers in the age of McCuba'. But as a black English man what really drew me to Cuba was my perception of it as a model colour-blind society.

I had my first experience of Cuban officialdom at Havana's Jose Marti International Airport. As a gesture of solidarity I wanted my passport stamped (due to the US embargo this only happens on request) but I chickened out when I caught sight of the surly, burly ...

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