I landed in Havana during a time of political uncertainty, but for the people of Cuba that’s nothing new—they are no strangers to facing ongoing adversity.
Among many governance issues, even their sugar industry, previously a cornerstone of the Cuban economy, lies in crisis while international trade sanctions combined with inflation and declining tourism have made for a tough—or should I say tougher—economic climate than most westerners could fathom.
Despite its tumultuous political problems, Cuba is still a vibrant mix of different races, religions, and cultures, celebrated against a backdrop of Spanish Colonial, neoclassical architecture and powered by classic American cars; their combustion engines and melodic horns fading echoes of a bygone era.
Walking through the streets of Havana I was often greeted with the same question— “Cubano?” the locals would ask, an enquiry garnished with a warm smile as they politely enquired to see if I was a native or one of the many tourists that frequent the island year-on-year. “I’m not that lucky” was my response on one such occasion, an expression that belied my respect for the bond and inner strength they showed as a people, and a vicarious desire to feel part of it.
The west has many things Cubans would envy, but our camaraderie is not likely to be one of them. Although passengers to political circumstance, the Cubans are as united as westerners currently are divided, seeking the betterment of their society, rather than solely that of the individual.
There are still rays of light emanating from this challenged Isle, one of which is the
heart and soul of the Cuban heritage, Havana Club rum.
“Rum is not just part of our tradition or culture—it’s our identity”
I was told by our host and guide, as we meandered through the streets of Old Havana, headed towards the Havana Club Rum Museum, suitably located in the heart of the city. On entering the museum you are greeted by a life-size sculpture of La Geraldilla, a figurine based on Isabel de Bombadilla, who became the first female governor in Cuba in 1539, and also the symbol chosen to furnish every bottle of Havana Club Rum.
In the courtyard of the Havana Club Museum fresh sugar cane was pressed before our eyes, extracting the natural juice and sugars before being combined with its “cousin” Havana Club rum to create a refreshing, yet simple cocktail.
It’s here people learn more about the process of rum making, the molasses extracted from the sugar cane being distilled into the final spirit or “agua ardiente” a Spanish phrase for “Fiery Water”, and the liquid from which rum as we know it, is birthed. An immersive experience and a lesson highlighting the importance of sugar cane to the rum industry and the country of Cuba and making it ever more apparent why these dwindling resources pose such a threat to one of Cuba’s most lucrative exports. Just one of many stories I lived through on my fleeting visit.
In fact, everywhere you look in Havana there are stories being told, stories told as much by the peeling paintwork on once glorious colonial manors, as they are by the people themselves, often voiced through musicality and their love of dance. It’s almost as if music is their therapist and salsa their medicine, as they harness these mediums to express the beauty of their struggle, giving a humorous edge to what many would find to be no laughing matter. This innate joy in the face of difficulty is also something captured in their national pride and joy, Havana Club rum.
To call it a drink is a disservice—not to the brand, but rather to the Cubans themselves, who view the brand as a national treasure; a family member that achieved success where others had failed. This was currency, a badge of honour, a reassuring undercurrent of constancy for many years where much around them has changed and thankfully—through my nostalgic lens—not.
One evening we sat down for dinner at La Guarida—a cinematic blend of cultural heritage and fine dining—I asked Havana Club CEO Christian Barré about the copyrighting challenges the brand faces in Cuba, the brand being a ubiquitous presence since I arrived in Havana. He smiled and simply said “Outside Cuba, we are very strict, but in Cuba we don’t prevent the people from using it. Besides, we’d need an army to enforce it!” While the second part was said in jest, there was certainly truth behind his words, with the omnipresence of the brand so total, that walking around Havana you would struggle to walk a few steps without encountering the brand. People wear the brand with great pride, carry branded bags, sell countless products adorned with the famed logo, and more importantly, it’s the drink that fills their glass.
The final evening of my Cuban adventure was a visit to the Grand Havana home of Pamela Ruiz and contemporary artist Damián Aquiles in Vedado; a hub for modernist architecture in the mid-20th century and fitting for a region renown for housing Cuba’s intellectual elite, artists, and writers.
All the furniture in their home is sourced in Cuba, and takes pride of place along with Damian’s art—well some of it at least. “if there is a painting he brings I don’t like, it doesn’t go up on the wall.” Pamela quips as she guides us around their home; part gallery, part abode.
Joining us in the premises were the Maestros—and Maestra—del Ron Cubano, all five gathered in one space to once again celebrate the life of Don José Pablo Navarro; the first official Maestro del Ron Cubano. Such was his influence, he is singlehandedly responsible for training all the current Maestros Del Ron in Cuba—not just for Havana Club Rum, but for the entirety of the industry.
“It’s really a privilege to be around people of that calibre, to be around someone that has dedicated their whole life to doing something and doing it so well.”
Pamela
Ruiz
I noted that while throughout the world the enjoyment of cigars is generally a celebratory affair, for the Cubans they are very much a way of life and a means to an end, being the country’s largest export good.
As the hand-rolled cigars were presented to each guest, the sense of anticipation was building, and I soon realised it was not only for the cigar, as Maestro Del Ron Cubano Asbel Morales— innovator behind the Icónica Collection—once again took centre stage.
“It’s a product, a unique product, highly related to the way we live, the way we work, the way we live life every day; so it has a unique quality every time.“
Says Asbel, as he built up to the announcement we’d all been waiting for, the launch of Havana Club Iconica Tributo 2025. The eighth edition in the Tributo series, this edition sees Havana Club rum aged and finished in Redbreast Single Pot Still Irish Whiskey casks, sourced from the Midleton Distillery in Cork, Ireland.
Cigar in hand, the story was all coming together; the warm aromas of vanilla and subtle sherry notes garnishing the rich, oaky caramel profile of the rum, making the perfect accompaniment to the sweet, earthy taste profile of the freshly hand-rolled Cuban.
Throughout my Havana experience, one thing was very clear—for the Cubans, Havana Club is much more than a rum, it’s a badge of honour, a symbol of national pride that pervades every facet of society. It’s an ode to those that have gone before, and a promise to those that have been entrusted with its future. Most of all it makes for a very, very good drink, the centrepiece of music and conversation. Are there challenges? Absolutely, but with optimism there is hope, and with hope, a chance of fighting for success—a fight in which Cubans have proven to be perennial experts at winning.
