True Art often comes from misery, ultimate poverty or lack of freedom. This is how I see Cuba, a realm full of contrasts, of extreme beauty and extreme poverty. Once you land you are instantly eleported to the colonial times of old Havana. The music of "buena vista" is everywhere, on the streets, in the hotel lobbies, in very undergroud, but alive social clubs in the evenings. Cuban girls are best salsa teachers, and their men make their living from selling their weekly cigars ratio from the old Coperativa. One could live these decadent times forever smoking best Cuban cigars, drinking best Cuban "sette annnos ron" and dancing all night and day with timeless artists from the famous Tropicana Club, now singing for a living in Havana night clubs for the enjoyment of the tourists. You feel like the Cubans are born to be artists and to suffer the extreme suppretion, because their music and art is beyond this world, theire is a special energy in this magic lost paradise. There is something unique about the scent of Havana nights. All this magic of Cuban rom, aromatic tobacco and old colonial architecture is an inspiration for any perfumer. Not to mention the scent of the sandalwood, cocoa seeds and local flower of Mariposa, a local spiece of lilly, the national flower of Cuba. This country has a genuine tradition in artisan perfumery, like it was made in the old royal times. I was glad to discover this untouched art and its rudimental techniques. And the scents are so incredibly beautiful and timeless as the city itsself. With this unique memory of Cuba I came back home: beauty, timeless and decandence. Something you discover only with the mind and heart open.