Among other things, a vault is a storehouse for precious things. It is also a final resting place for the dead. For Mario Cartaya, the author of the inspiring memoir Journey Back into the Vault, it is both.

Join him as he returns to his homeland of Cuba, journeying from South Florida in the company of his excellent friends, José and George. Cartaya, an able writer, a canny commentator on his inner life and on geopolitical events, left Cuba at age 9 with his parents and older brother. Now, 59 years later, he returns to see what was left behind.

The family’s forced exile resulted from the events of 1959: the imposition of the Fidel Castro regime, and the near fatal contretemps between Cartaya’s father and the new government. The move, necessitating separation from beloved friends and family, left its scars – unearthed masterfully as Cartaya delves into his unconscious ‘vault’ and retrieves the memories of a lifetime. The result is highly therapeutic.

Dante survived his trip to the underworld thanks to his resourceful guide Virgil. Cartaya’s Virgil is Maidel, a young Cuban driver who escorts the trio to Havana and beyond: a treasure trove of near-forgotten sights and locations that realign Cartaya with his dislocated past. In the process, readers are in for many treats: the descriptions of the food, the music, the verdant splendor of the plantations, of the beaches and mountains, would do a Fodor’s or Michelin’s guide proud.

There are memoirs – and then there are memoirs. Journey Back into the Vault definitely raises the bar. The writing is literate yet conversational, always informed by the acutely insightful intelligence of the author. The ripostes between the ‘boys’ and Cartaya is both exuberant and wistful – people have a habit of calling Cartaya ‘old man’ (he is 63 years young) and testing his marital morality with playful allusions to temptation (young women and drink.) But Cartaya is always in control. His itinerary, including systematic re-visits to his old homes, his childhood school, former national plazas and monuments, is thought out from start to finish. The unveiling of the past is accomplished to the dual benefit of the author and his readers.

This is an ambitious and very effective book. Along with the terrific photos and charming anecdotes, we see present-day Cuba from the sometimes-bitter perspective of those who had to flee. For many, Castro was yet another despot, another despot like the ousted Batista before him. Poverty remains endemic in the island-nation – that apparently hasn’t changed.

The book is also a moving account of one man’s masterful handling of separation, loss, and death. At the end of the day – and the book – Cartaya is deeply affected by his father’s heroic resolve to wrest his family from turmoil. The author’s love for his family (then and now), his two countries, and his past, enlivens every page.