Cuba’s Tourism Crisis Deepens Amid Economic Challenges

It’s almost noon in Havana when a handful of tourists tumble out of a small yellow bus and rush toward a row of shiny classic cars, cameras in hand. Nearby, under the shade of a beach almond tree, a group of drivers jump to their feet, some hoping for their first customer of the day.

But the tourists take a couple of quick selfies in front of brightly colored cars ranging from a 1950 Pontiac to a 1960 Buick and walk away.

“This is grim,” says Reymundo Aldama, who drives a bubblegum pink 1957 convertible Ford Fairlane. “We’re waiting for them to come, we’re waiting for work.”

Tourism in Cuba is plummeting at a time when the island desperately needs that revenue, with visitor numbers dropping by nearly 70% since 2018. For almost two decades, a steady stream of visitors sparked a tourism boom, only to be devastated by the COVID-19 pandemic, severe blackouts, and increased U.S. sanctions.

Now, Cubans whose livelihood depends on tourism are among those suffering the most as the island braces for what experts warn could be a catastrophic economic crisis. Recent disruptions in oil shipments from Venezuela after U.S. intervention in the South American country have worsened the situation. In another blow, Mexico’s president announced Tuesday that her country would temporarily suspend oil shipments to Cuba.

The situation is already dire for Rosbel Figueredo Ricardo, 30, who sells a popular Cuban street food known as “chivirico,” fried flour chips sprinkled with sugar.

He used to load 150 bags of chips every morning onto a plastic tray balanced on his shoulder and sell out by late afternoon. Nowadays, he only prepares 50 bags, works from dawn until nighttime, and sometimes doesn’t sell a single one.

“I’m a mid-level industrial mechanical technician, and look at me here,” he says.

Figueredo has a partner and three children, with a fourth on the way. “This is our day-to-day, so we can eat,” he explains as he walks toward the Spanish embassy, hoping that Cubans lining up for visas might buy his wares after finding no tourists near Havana’s famed seawall.

A Brutal Drop

For decades, tourism generated up to $3 billion annually for Cuba. Visitors would pack restaurants, crowd along Havana’s seawall, and gather at monuments and state buildings. This steady flow of tourists boosted employment and led to the opening of hundreds of small businesses, including hostels and restaurants.

Today, the seawall is dotted mostly with Cuban couples or fishermen hoping to catch their next meal. Nearby, tablecloths at empty seaside restaurants flutter in the wind while employees clutch menus and scan the horizon for customers who never arrive.

Only 1.6 million tourists visited Cuba from January to November 2025, significantly lower than the 4.8 million in 2018 and 4.2 million in 2019, before the pandemic. Some Cubans worry that growing U.S.-Cuba tensions, cuts in water and power supply, and large piles of garbage in popular tourist areas have driven visitors away.

This dramatic drop in tourism hits especially hard because U.S. sanctions stripped Cuba of nearly $8 billion in revenue from March 2024 to February 2025, a loss nearly 50% higher compared to the previous period, according to government statistics.

On a recent afternoon, only three people boarded a double-decker tourism bus driven by Gaspar Biart, who has been driving for 16 years. He recalls with a small smile how crowded buses once were.

“There’s been a huge change,” he says, noting that sanctions imposed during the Trump administration have severely limited Cuba’s tourism potential. “We can’t even breathe.”

When tourism was booming and petroleum flowing, eight double-decker sightseeing buses would make three trips daily across Havana. Now, only four operate, and most are largely empty.

Aldama, the classic car driver, remembers when he would sometimes work until 9 p.m. Now he’s lucky to get one or two tourists a day. He blames Trump’s 2019 ban on cruise ships visiting Cuba, one of the most popular forms of travel to the island.

“That led to a brutal drop,” Aldama says, adding that the situation has worsened in the past six months. He used to charge $50 for a drive around the capital. Now, given the lack of demand, he has lowered his price to $25, or even $20 if tourists bargain.

“The day that we run out of fuel, we’ll stop driving and look for another job,” Aldama says. “There’s no other choice.”

International Perspectives

Vincent Seigi from Russia relaxed on a wooden bench facing the deep blue sea and Cuba’s imposing Morro Castle on a recent sunny afternoon. He had only been in Cuba for two days.

“I expected it to be a little bit chaotic, not so maybe tourist friendly because of the complicated economic situation,” he says. “It’s kind of like time is a bit stopped here.”

Seigi wasn’t concerned about the chronic blackouts and garbage, though he found it strange not having mobile connectivity. He worried that what he was observing in Cuba could soon happen in Russia due to international sanctions.

With Venezuela, Cuba’s strongest political and economic ally, currently unavailable, some wonder if China or Russia might step in. Seigi is doubtful, believing Russia can only offer “rhetorical help” as it struggles with its own challenges in Ukraine.

Meanwhile, Brazilian tourist Gloraci Passos de Carvalho, a teacher, said she had long been curious about Cuba’s political and educational system and wasn’t deterred by the island’s deepening crisis or tensions with the U.S.

She was struck by Cuba’s welcoming atmosphere and architecture, but above all, its resilience.

“It’s a lesson for people, to survive with less,” she says. “In Brazil we call it making lemonade out of lemons… So I see it in that sense, I see it in a positive light.”