"There’s Carlos Acosta!” I could hardly contain my excitement. Sitting opposite us in the airport departure lounge was the star of the Royal Ballet. I cajoled my eight year old daughter into asking for his autograph, assuring her that one day she would be thankful. Such was her introduction to Cuban people.

We were on our way for a two week family holiday and it was off to a promising start.
I love Cuba, but it isn’t an obvious family destination. Due to the US economic embargo, outside the main tourist areas, there is a shortage of almost everything, poor food and basic hotels. On the plus side, there are beaches, sunshine and salsa. I first fell under its spell when I studied in Havana in my twenties and have visited the island with my husband several times since, thinking that one day, when they were old enough (and we were brave enough) we would return with our three children.

After a nine hour flight we landed in hot Havana. Tired and excited we piled into a clapped-out 1958 Cadillac and headed off. Even the long flight couldn’t dampen the kids’ high spirits as we spluttered past old American cars, crumbling colonial buildings (free from advertising) and ramshackle houses. “Cuba looks like an episode of Horrible Histories,” remarked my daughter. And she was right – Cuba is a time-warp preserved through neglect as a result of five decades of communist rule.

Varadero was our first stop – a tourist resort bubble only 2 hours drive from Havana and yet a million miles from real Cuban life. It’s a package holiday destination with little cultural interest, but perfect for a few days relaxing on the beach. We stayed in a snazzy all-inclusive Spanish-run hotel called Paradisus which the children declared pretty close to paradise. It is situated on the most heavenly white-sand beach, with crystalline turquoise water and palm trees. The kids’ highlight was swimming with dolphins in a lagoon. “The best thing ever,” was the verdict of our six year old twin boys as they balanced on the dolphins’ backs and flew through the air.

After four days it was time to bring them down to earth and begin our adventure proper. We hired a modern Peugeot and armed with The Rough Guide to Cuba headed east through the provincial heart of the island travelling first to Cienfuegos, then to Playa Ancon, Trinidad and finally back up to the capital.

Driving through the countryside you come face to face with the realities of rural life unchanged for the past fifty years. The children, however, were oblivious to the delapidation and just excited to be on a road trip. It was all a novelty. Cars remain a precious commodity so there are very few on the road and certainly no traffic jams. Instead there are all kinds of other modes of transport: horse-drawn carriages, ‘guajiro’ cowboys wielding large machetes on horseback, crammed Chrevolets, Russian buses spewing out smoke and even a stretch Lada (a very Cuban invention).

We drove through miles of sugar cane, passing revolutionary murals and slogans praising the achievements of Castro’s brand of communism. (Cuba has one of the best social systems in Latin America with free healthcare and free schools.) When the children grew restless we devised our own version of ‘I spy .... Che Guevara’. The cult of Che is evident everywhere. He still enjoys a god-like status and his image is plastered on buildings, billboards and street corners. Another car game involved hitchhikers. With an unreliable and slow public transport system, hitching a lift is, for many Cubans, the only way to get around. So whenever the kids began squabbling we picked up a hitchhiker who squeezed alongside them on the back seat, rendering them silent and giving us a chance to practise our Spanish. It was an interesting cultural exchange. We gave lifts to a variety of people and the kids ranked them according to friendliness. The winner was a fourteen year old school girl called Roxanne.

The hours passed easily, until we had to find somewhere to eat. That’s the tricky part. Cuba is not known for its cuisine, especially off the beaten track, so we survived on monotonous helpings of rice, beans and fried chicken.

Our first stop was Cienfuegos with its leafy boulevards and pretty waterfront. From there we
drove west to Playa Ancon. We stayed in a former Soviet hotel. The tropical location was stunning but the food and decor reminiscent of the eastern bloc pre-perestroika. But none of this mattered. The children snorkelled for the first time, fished with local fishermen, played chess with local boys, and chased enormous crabs while my husband and I sat back sipping our mojitos.

Trinidad is a UNESCO world heritage site with beautifully preserved mansions and churches,threaded together with cobbled streets. We stayed in a ‘casa particular’, a licensed private home. Once a grand family house, Julio and Maria now rent out rooms to foreigners. The average Cuban wage is about $15 a month so it is much needed income, although strictly regulated. It was beautifully restored, complete with antiques and four-poster beds. The children loved the animals, in particular an over-heated chow chow named ‘Bello’, but theirgreatest delight was breakfast with the family horse overlooking the dining table.

We left Havana until last. Our choice of accommodation was a little more up-market. The Hotel Nacional is a city landmark famous pre-revolution as a playground for rich and famous guests from Winston Churchill to Al Capone. For us its main attraction was the large outdoor pool. Havana has a vibrant and rich cultural scene. We visited the ‘Partagas’ cigar factory and wandered around soaking up the music, museums and art galleries. The childrenloved the Latin rhythms – mambo, son and the very popular reggaeton. They bought maracas, bongos and guiros as souvenirs which now drive us mad at home. We even took them to a large military parade marking the 50th anniversary of the Bay of Pigs. Tanks and flags were everywhere and military planes roared through the sky.

Cuba is on the brink of change. Raul Castro’s government has introduced small but radical reforms, so if you like history, go now before the Americans arrive and change it forever. Our road trip was an unforgettable experience. It stirred in the children a sense of curiosity about how different other people’s lives can be, and we in turn looked harder at the world through their young eyes. I think my passion has rubbed off. The children may not share my devotion to Carlos Acosta, but go crazy for Celia Cruz, the queen of salsa.

An itinerary similar to that of Charlotte and her family can be arranged through Cream
Travel and costs approx £5780 including flights, t/fers and visas but not including
car hire (approx £72 a day).

Cream Travel Tel 020 7371 0484 cream-travel.co.uk