I have to admit.  I'm jealous.  My wife and I have just returned from a far-too-short visit to Tampa, Florida, where we spent almost all of our waking time in historic Ybor City, the erstwhile "Cigar Capital of the World." 

Yes, I'm jealous.  I'm jealous of the bountiful cigars one finds there, of the greatest variety and highest quality, available at extremely reasonable prices.  I'm jealous of the weather, which was absolutely idyllic the entire time we were there.  I'm jealous of the rich, polyglot Latin-based culture that surrounds and enraputres the visitor to Ybor City, enveloping him in a unique vitality, a vibrant Iberio-Caribbean embrace of life at its fullest.  And I am jealous of the wonderful sense of community that one finds in Ybor -- and the ease to which one can feel comfortable in it, and indeed, becomes accepted into it as an equal part and member.

There was a time when more Havana cigars were made in Ybor City (now a part of the City of Tampa) than in Havana itself.  It is the place of origin of a surprising number of familiar cigar brands and family names.  Ybor City was founded as a strictly cigar-making town by expatriate Cubans, and was settled by Cubans, Spaniards, Italians, and other ethnic groups connected to various stages of the cigar-making business such as European Jews and Germans.  It rightly lays claim to a rich and glorious history -- one where many cultures coexisted side by side, all cooperating in singleminded pursuit of a noble dream: the perfect cigar.

Today, with Havana tobacco off-limits to American production, most cigar manufacturing has moved offshore.  But there are still many places in Ybor City than one can go to experience cigars being bunched and rolled -- even banded, cellophaned, and boxed.  All by hand, in the traditional Cuban way, and usually by fascinating people who learned their trade in the great cigar factories of Cuba itself.

In some of these locations, one can have a seat near the rollers as they work -- smoking one of the excellent locally-produced cigars, and chatting with the owners and rollers about their exodus from that oppressive island they once called home.  (It helps to speak Spanish fluently, as does my wife, since many of these folks know little or no English.)

In other locations, once can go inside and purchase a cigar (or two or three or ...), and step outside to have a seat in the shade, leisurely allowing the life of Ybor to pass by as you relax.  While there, if you choose, you can don a Guayabera, the traditional Cuban dress shirt, and blend into the community, sipping perhaps a glass of Spanish wine, a cup of strong Cuban coffee or luscious café con leche, and chatting with the locals or reminiscing with the shop owners about the rebirth of this fascinating place.

One can indulge one's shopping hobby in the many unique shops, and in the new Centro Ybor, an outdoor commercial answer to the needs of every grownup mall rat, carefully designed to blend in with the traditional Hispanic feel of the city.  And one can get great deals on cigars and merchandise by going right to the factory -- and if you're lucky, you might get to shake the hand of a Fuente or a Newman.  (As I did.)

One can visit museums, parks, craft shops and art galleries; one can go back in time and ride a charming, old fashioned trolley; one can see and take pictures of genuinely historic sites and buildings.  And one can learn about the rich history of the area and the surprisingly unique part which it played in American, Spanish, and Cuban history.

Finding a place for a great meal is absolutely no problem.  From the quaint local Cuban fare of a famous diner to upscale haut cuisine in traditional Hispanic or modern American form, from Argentine grilled steaks to a historic Spanish restaurant with its floor show featuring genuine flamenco dancers -- it's all there.

And one can engage in a vibrant night life, in one so desires, in one of the many nightclubs for which Ybor City has come to be known as of late.