Cuba has been called "the greatest living American car museum in the world." The streets are full of classic 1940s and 1950s automobiles, imported before the revolution.

FLAMBOYANT ICONS OF CAPITALISM. They should look out of place in a communist country. Many are wheezing mechanical dinosaurs, but a few are in prime condition, sporting flared fins, hood ornaments such as streamlined birds, and banquette leather seats.

These vehicles were designed as frivolous fashion accessories, to be discarded after a couple of years. Yet, since the revolution most Cubans have not been able to afford a new car, and many anyway will not countenance the idea of driving a "tin can on wheels" Lada, which, until recently, was the only make available.

Most still function thanks to the Cubans' ingenuity. So, by fair means or foul, owners have to be resourceful to keep their prized possessions running. Mechanics mix neat alcohol, brown sugar, and shampoo for brake fluid, and rejuvenate flat batteries from overhead power lines.

There is an enormous black market in spare parts, most old vehicles actually run on Lada engines. Leave a car unguarded overnight and its wing mirrors and windshield wipers will have entered the resale trade by morning. Gasoline is strictly rationed, so Cubans often siphon gasoline from their own cars to keep it safe for the night.

Cubans love just taking their cars out for a short spin "un paseito" but, understandably, many owners use them (usually illegally) as dollar-earning machines by driving tourists around.

A state company called Cubalse scours the country for vintage American cars, offering their owners a brand-new Lada in exchange. The idea is that the owner benefits from having a car that actually works, while Cubalse sells the Cadillacs for thousands of dollars to foreigners.

Airport parking lot.