In many ways, traveling to Cuba is like opening your grandfather’s shed. There’s so much in there, some of it a little worse for wear, but every piece with has its own history that you could spend months – or even years – trying to uncover.

Thanks to the economic blockade that has plagued the country for the past 60 years, Cuba is a perfectly preserved time capsule of the 1950s. But make no mistake – in no sense is Cuba backward or simple. The Cuban people are fiercely protective of their culture and are painfully aware of what is at risk if they throw open their borders.

Juan Carlos was our guide on a low-key walking tour around Old Havana. A partially-sighted swimmer, he competed in the Barcelona and Atlanta Paralympic Games (he came fourth in the 200 metres backstroke at both Games, a sign, he said, that he should give it away). Juan Carlos has been fond of Australians since he was the interpreter for Susie Maroney on her first attempt across the Florida straits from Cuba to the US.

The fact that he has had the opportunity to venture outside Cuba is rare (he was the only Cuban I met who had travelled abroad) – so he knows what’s at stake if commercial interests from the west gain a foothold here.

He says the majority of the population don’t know what it’s like outside Cuba. It seems like a fantasy to them: the shops, the food, the wealth. But Juan Carlos knows what that is like. When he first went to Miami, his friends offered to take him anywhere, but all he wanted was a Big Mac. Juan Carlos tells that story with some shame and regret.

While he freely admits the Cuban people have suffered greatly over the years, he is deeply aware that the foundations of their society – free education, free medical care, free social security – are precious commodities. He has come to know what all travellers eventually realise: home is sacred.

Juan Carlos is concerned much of the isolation which makes his country special is about to end. And he’s not wrong.

President Obama has formally re-established diplomatic ties with Cuba. The indications are that he is keen to continue to free up relations between Cuba and the US. There is talk of a ferry between the two countries.

At the moment, Americans can only travel to Cuba if the purpose of their trip falls into one of 12 categories. Tourism is not one of them, but travel for education purposes is possible. But, soon cruise ships will stop here; infrastructure will grow to meet the need of an increasingly demanding tourist population; the landscape will be transformed, perfected and sanitised; multinational companies will gain a foothold; the locals will expect more and their needs will expand to meet the new windfall.

This is not altogether a bad thing. A family’s monthly income at the moment is about $20AUD.

Access to the internet is extremely rare and when it is available, it costs upwards of $9 per hour. While it’s a relief for travellers to have an enforced tech-detox, it’s painfully obvious how challenging this must be for education in Cuba, let alone business and government. Internet penetration here is about 25 per cent – but the majority of that is simply access to email, the country’s own intranet and pro-government bloggers. The actual number of people who have access to the ‘free’ internet is less than 5 per cent.

Google executives made a high-profile trip to Cuba last year and it seems only a matter of time before they crack the market open. Apple is already clearly fascinating to the locals. While most of the phones are early-2000s models, there are Apple stickers on everything: Cars, doorways, school bags. This is a country in which technology is about to blow up in a big way.

As for revamped infrastructure and bricks and mortar, you’re more likely to fall into a hole dug as part of a renovation than you are trip on a loose cobblestone (although you’ll definitely do that too). Rebuilding and façade facelifts are happening everywhere – from the capital out to the regional centres.

Thanks to the Russians and other socialist comrades, the roads between cities are wide and largely abandoned. As you travel through small towns, you’ll share the road with horses and carts, but between them, buses (tour and local) are all you’ll see for hours.

A colleague on my trip remarked he’d love to come back here and ride across the country on a motorbike (with a sidecar for his wife). It’s a fun and probably very achievable dream - if there is one thing that Cuba has in spades, it’s straight roads and good mechanics who know how to keep a vehicle running, well past its natural time.

Even with the increasing development and the prospect of more to come, one thing is clear: Cuba itself is visually stunning. The striking thing is that the travel brochures unexpectedly get it right.

Those weathered faces smoking cigars as thick as your wrist – they’re all there. The retro cars, the art deco buildings – they’re all there too. The colours, the dancing, the music. It seems like a cliché until you’re walking around in it, when for some reason it feels very comfortable (if not a little like a very special secret).

There is more than a little bit of magical realism about Cuba.

There are unreal elements at play here that are naturally a part of the every day. Walking around, you have your own soundtrack as music flows out of every door way. If you need a lift somewhere, your taxi is an immaculately restored 1950s Ford. You might be having a cheeky drink of rum on the otherwise unremarkable rooftop of your family-run homestay and suddenly the sun sets, and the whole town is lit up like a film set.

You go out to a bar and for some reason, right now, you have rhythm, and dancing with strangers seems not just normal, it’s something you want to do (even though you couldn’t before and probably never will again). It could be the rum, of course. But there is definitely something else at work here, too.

Life in Cuba is a bubble, and travel here is a bubble too. There is a sense that both could burst at any time and lose some of their charm. Cuba is a puzzle you’ll want to solve, but it’s obvious that just by being here, travellers are changing things, probably for the worst. In some towns, kids know to ask for money, pens and make-up. Wandering artists will shove portraits into your hands, and like all touts, they can spot an easy mark (the portrait I have looks nothing like me, but it makes me look beautiful so naturally I bought it). Locals know they can, and should, charge for a photo.

We are changing things by being here, so there is a strong sense that we need to find the least invasive way to travel, a way that reduces our impact and spreads the benefits. Staying in hotels feels weird here.

The one night I stayed in one felt overly indulgent (though the uniformed staff allowed a homeless dog to follow me in and sleep beside my feet as I had a drink in the bar). The best way to find accommodation is to stay in casa particulars – boarding houses run by families who rent out rooms in their homes (relatively wealthy families, to be sure, but owning property itself is a coup in Cuba). You quickly move through the awkwardness of interrupting a family watching tv to ask to buy a drink out of the fridge or to let them know when you you’ll be checking out.

And if you become sick on your trip (I was stung by a jellyfish on a remote beach in near the town of Trinidad de Cuba), the family will be keen to share some home remedies with you (most of which involve rum, either applied topically or as a tonic).

Even passionately independent travellers will benefit from joining a locally-driven tour here. This is not a European city whose secrets are knowable just by sitting around in a café and watching people go by. There is a political thesis on every street in Cuba. Plus a double major in art-history, a honours year in comparative religion and a PhD in music.

You will need a local guide. And you will need to get out of Havana. Trinidad de Cuba is a heritage listed town with cobblestone streets and brightly painted homes. It’s a romantic, almost-Tuscan, town with the flawless white sand of a Caribbean beach only minutes away. Camaguey in the east is a cultural hub, but it’s not hard to imagine pirates (of the Caribbean, even), wandering the wending streets. Santiago de Cuba is the home of the Revolution, but it’s also the home of so much of the music and rhythms that the country is known for.

Covered in dust but still vibrant, Cuba is everything that you thought you wanted, but nothing like you expected. While time runs differently in Cuba, there is definitely a time limit on seeing Cuba as it is now: magical, unique and endlessly fascinating.

Amy travelled to Cuba as a guest of Intrepid Travel on their Cuba Music and Dance tour. She’s not a dancer, but she thinks/hopes she didn’t disgrace herself too badly and there is no photographic evidence that says otherwise. Amy’s come back with a lot to share, so feel free to leave her some questions in the comments and she’ll answer them all.

Have you ever travelled to Cuba or want to go? Do you have any travelling tips?

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