In many ways tourism in Cuba’s capital feels premature. Gastronomically limited, digitally secluded and rusty in terms of efficient service and hospitality, don’t go to Cuba expecting a cookie-cutter luxury holiday.

What the Cuban’s may lack in comparison to the high standards of the capitalist world however, is accounted for in the fruits of their self-sufficiency. Owing to its piecemeal history, Havana is a jigsaw of cultural heritage, a composition of pieces of colonialism and communism, traditionalism and modernity, all fitting together to create something truly unique.

These inconsistencies are reflected in all aspects of Cuban life, from the derelict exteriors of the soviet housing blocks, with their hastily attached satellite disks and air cons, to the grand colonial hotels and their recent additions of roof-top pools and fitness suites which are visibly at odds with the dated marble floors and towering pillars of the interiors.

The greatest symbol of Cuba’s evolving culture however, lies within the paradox of its trademark vintage cars. Driving the streets of Havana is like entering a time machine as Chevys, Beatles and Cadillacs cruise on past, probably at only a shadow of their former glory, but still spectacular enough to impress those of us born a few generations too late. What I assume they didn’t have in the 1960s however, are the re-modifications that are now customary in many of the vehicles, including (but by no means limited to) the hi-tech audio systems and plush leather seats. Only in Cuba can you ride in a 1952 Bel Air to the accompanying sounds of Pitbull, and other Twenty-First Century wonders, blaring out from the TV in the back.

Admittedly, the old technology comes at a not-so-glamorous price. Eye wateringly high diesel costs, the sacrifice of seat-belts and generally any notion of health and safety and the exhaust pipe smogs that plague most journeys (before going on to wreak greater havoc in the ozone layer) spell inefficiency. However, the cars are truly an homage to Cuban socialist history, as the last automobiles to be imported from America before the 1962 trade embargo, as well as a distinctive mark of Cuban innovation. When broken they would have to be fixed using homegrown technology; otherwise left aside.

It also seems that the profitable value of many of Havana’s cultural treasures is hugely underestimated. First of all the prices are cheap cheap. Not only are taxi rides in new cars actually more expensive than in classic ones, but day-to-day costs are pretty reasonable. For some perspective, a bottle of Havana Club rum costs about $5.50 (thank you government regulations on alcohol) and ordering lobster doesn’t set you back much more than chicken. Attractions such as going into a missile crisis bunker were free, bar the small tip given to the man who showed us round, which was given gladly considering the priceless insight he gave us, having actually lived through the cold war. Although it is widely accepted now that tourism gives locals a chance to improve their welfare, it is refreshing not to be charged for all the excess trimmings that come with these attractions, the brochure, the audio guide, the air you breath.

So my advice? Development here is prolific. If you can’t deal with some of the setbacks, like Snapchat being blocked by the government or the frustration of watching your ice cream melt before your eyes because the waiter has forgotten to bring it over, then maybe Cuba isn’t for you just yet. But if you want to visit Havana while it retains its character, before the restrictions on tourism are fully lifted and its resourcefulness is corrupted by the lure of dollar bills, then now’s the time to go. Visit while the final pieces of globalisation are still missing from the jigsaw.