Cuba is the only country in the world where vintage cars are not just a hobby or a private collection, but part of everyday life. According to unofficial estimates, there are around 60,000 classic American cars still running on the island, most of them dating back to the 1940s and 1950s. Models like the Chevrolet Fleetmaster, Buick Special, Ford Customline, and Cadillac Series 62 — icons of the American automotive golden age. 
A true open-air museum of 20th-century automobiles. Walking through the streets of Havana or Santiago de Cuba, it’s impossible not to be captivated by the sight of elegant 1950s Chevrolet Bel Airs, pastel-colored Pontiacs, or Ford Fairlanes that look as though they’ve driven straight out of a period film. Yet behind the nostalgic charm of Cuban cars lies a complex story of ingenuity, restrictions, and social transformation. 
The Cuban Revolution of 1959 radically changed the country’s automotive landscape. With the breakdown of trade relations with the United States and the establishment of the embargo, Cuba lost its main supplier of automobiles and suddenly found itself cut off from the Western car market.The blockade not only prevented new imports but also made it nearly impossible to repair the cars already on the island. To survive, Cuban mechanics developed a culture of adaptation.For decades, mechanics and owners improvised by replacing original engines with Soviet-made ones, crafting handmade parts, or modifying vehicles to run on alternative fuels.Survival was achieved through scheduled maintenance and the Cubans’ ability to improvise and adapt, giving rise to a car culture unique in the world.In the following years, the Soviet Union filled the gap left by the United States. Thousands of vehicles produced in the USSR were imported to the island: Ladas (especially the 2101 and 2107), Moskvitch, Volga, ZIL, and GAZ (government vehicles and trucks).
These cars, less elegant but more robust, became the new standard for the population. The Soviet era left a significant mark: even today, many Cuban families rely on these vehicles for their daily mobility.
With the country’s gradual opening and certain economic reforms, in recent years the Cuban government has started to allow the import of new cars, though at prohibitive prices for most citizens. Korean, Chinese, and European cars have begun to appear, but they still make up only a small fraction of urban traffic.
Cuba’s automotive market remains highly regulated: new vehicles are sold exclusively through state-run dealerships at extremely high markups, while the used market is often the only accessible option for the general population.
Until 2011, the purchase and sale of cars between private individuals was strictly regulated—and practically forbidden. Only those with government permits could buy a car, usually as a reward for particular merits (such as doctors, artists, athletes, or officials).
Since 2013, there has been partial liberalization, allowing private transactions and the import of new cars, but prices remain prohibitive.
In a country where the average monthly salary is about 30–40 dollars, owning a modern car is still a privilege reserved for a few.In this context, American cars are not just relics: they are living economic resources. Cubans who own one often use it as a shared taxi (almendrón, from its “almond” shape), a private tourist taxi for city tours, or a ceremonial car for weddings and special events.
Many visitors specifically choose to ride in these historic vehicles to enjoy a “vintage” experience. This has breathed new life into a local restoration industry: Cuba’s best mechanics now specialize in bodywork, upholstery, and custom paint finishes.
With the country’s gradual opening and certain economic reforms, in recent years the Cuban government has started to allow the import of new cars, though at prohibitive prices for most citizens. Korean, Chinese, and European cars have begun to appear, but they still make up only a small fraction of urban traffic.
Cuba’s automotive market remains highly regulated: new vehicles are sold exclusively through state-run dealerships at extremely high markups, while the used market is often the only accessible option for the general population.
Until 2011, the purchase and sale of cars between private individuals was strictly regulated—and practically forbidden. Only those with government permits could buy a car, usually as a reward for particular merits (such as doctors, artists, athletes, or officials).
Since 2013, there has been partial liberalization, allowing private transactions and the import of new cars, but prices remain prohibitive.
In a country where the average monthly salary is about 30–40 dollars, owning a modern car is still a privilege reserved for a few.In this context, American cars are not just relics: they are living economic resources. Cubans who own one often use it as a shared taxi (almendrón, from its “almond” shape), a private tourist taxi for city tours, or a ceremonial car for weddings and special events.
Many visitors specifically choose to ride in these historic vehicles to enjoy a “vintage” experience. This has breathed new life into a local restoration industry: Cuba’s best mechanics now specialize in bodywork, upholstery, and custom paint finishes.
Joani Cardenas is considered one of the best restorers in Havana. His workshop, located on the outskirts of Guanabacoa, is a labyrinth of American, Russian, and Chinese car parts waiting to be reborn. Cardenas completely disassembles each vehicle, painting every single component, and spends about two months restoring a 1950s car, achieving results of the highest quality.In the heart of Havana, Oscar Rodríguez and his team—self-taught mechanics—transform vintage cars by combining parts from different brands: a 1947 Nash with a steering system rebuilt from Toyota/Mitsubishi components, or a 1956 Ford Fairlane fitted with a Toyota Rodríguez engine.In 2024, young Gabriel González made headlines by building a 1952 Ford from scratch in Playa Baracoa, Havana. Self-taught, he welded the body, adapted the brakes, installed a Volga 24 engine with a Mitsubishi transmission, and mounted 18- and 12-inch wheels.In Holguín, a 1950 Chevrolet was transformed into a tow truck capable of lifting up to 4,000 kg and operating 24/7. The Guzmán family even integrated modern systems—brakes, suspension, emergency lights—showing how even the “old almonds” can be adapted with professionalism and safety.Cuban mechanics are true masters of an art shaped by creativity and self-learning. From professional restorers like Joani Cardenas and Oscar Rodríguez to artisans like Gabriel González and the Guzmán family, they all embody the Cuban spirit: keeping pieces of history alive with limited resources but boundless ingenuity. They are the wizards of the automobile, able to breathe life into past eras and mechanical mythologies through every bolt and weld.More than just vehicles, these cars are living witnesses of a bygone era, symbols of national identity, and tools of economic survival. In a world that keeps changing, Cuban cars remain frozen in time, enchanting anyone lucky enough to encounter them.
