As traffic stops in Havana I am faced with a line of old cars, classics as we would call them; here this is everyday travel. You would never know it was modern day. While there is perhaps something dispiriting about this isolation there is also something beautiful. Am I seeing a nation cut off from the excitement of the modern world or a nation frozen in time? Music fills these streets each night. The people, taxied to the door in a big, shiny Cadillac are still living that idyllic dream, a dream so many of us let rust away, corroding into nostalgia. Here it is alive and well, and waiting at every traffic light.