Editors’ Picks

In Lake Baikal in southern Siberia, Olkhon Island dwarfs the other rocky islets with its elongated spine. From the map, it looks like a small, narrow peninsula extends off the mainland. At Cape Khoboy on the northern tip of Olkhon. Maxim Oksyutik stands atop a rock. Before him, an endless ripple of water opens up in an indefinite spectacle.

By the time the morning fog begins lifting over Port Frederick, the outline of a massive cruise ship is already visible beyond the trees. It moves slowly through the gray water, dwarfing the fishing boats and wooden houses along the shoreline of Hoonah, a small Alaska Native community on Chichagof Island with fewer than 900 residents.

In Abiansemal, a rural district north of Denpasar and west of Ubud in Bali, the Ayung River cuts through rocky gorges, winding past rice fields and jungle. Down by the river, a spread of bamboo pavilions rises in a hug of palm trees and thick bushes, their wide thatched roofs fanning out like giant conical hats. From above, the complex gives off the vibe of an eco-retreat in the middle of the jungle. But beneath the thatched roofs are open-air classrooms, designed to nurture young minds through an unconventional curriculum that could reimagine education as we know it.

As wanderlust for small-group expeditions to remote lands continues to grow, island destinations like Iceland, the Galapagos, and the Seychelles are fixed on travelers' radars. Yet travelers seek even more extraordinary experiences in search of epic adventures.

In this NATJA award-winning World Footprints episode, Rick Steves joins us for a thoughtful conversation about Europe, the pandemic, social responsibility, and why travel remains one of the most powerful ways to better understand the world.

When people think of Southeast Asia, Thailand and Vietnam often come to mind first. But squeezed between them is Laos, a country covered in dense jungles and lush mountains perfectly suited for growing coffee, a relatively new crop that has grown recently in importance to the nation’s economy.

Strolling through the southern Spanish city of Sevilla on a sunny early spring day, the sweet smells of orange blossoms surround you as they waft through the air. These fragrant fruit trees flourish in the cobble-stoned streets and bring color to the beautiful Royal Alcázar of Seville.

One of Florida’s most unusual and misunderstood places, Cassadaga, isn’t a city or a town but a 57‑acre Spiritualist camp. Many of the 55 homes in the camp remain occupied by mediums who offer readings from their living rooms. In Cassadaga, mediums are the norm, and communicating with your loved ones who have passed on is an everyday event.

One of the most famous paths in the world, arguably its most renowned spiritual route, the Camino draws pilgrims from around the globe. More than two of every three trekkers who undertake the journey follow St. James’ Way, also known as Camino Frances (“The French Way”). It extends more than 800 kilometers across northern Spain from Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port, France, in the foothills of the Pyrenees.

Mention Alaska, and images of vast wilderness, rugged beauty, and epic outdoor adventures quickly come to mind. Yet beyond its scenery and adventurous spirit, Alaska’s culture and history have stories of their own to tell, and one of them comes alive each summer in Fairbanks.

Southwest Louisiana has always known how to celebrate, and Lake Charles is no exception. I experienced my first Mardi Gras in this gem of a city, and I loved every minute of it. Unlike the louder party atmosphere associated with New Orleans’ rowdy Bourbon Street, Mardi Gras in Lake Charles offers a family-friendly celebration.

Often described by Greeks as the country’s “second capital,” Thessaloniki is a city where history and modern creativity coexist effortlessly. Ideal for a city break or short stopover, it offers a rich tapestry of experiences and unforgettable memories in less-visited northern Greece.

Tonya Fitzpatrick shares the creative and personal writing journey behind Destination Stewardship, a tourism business book shaped by storytelling, family artwork, legal discipline, global interviews, and the urgent need for stewardship as an antidote to overtourism.

After spending a week traversing the jungle and savannah in one of the most biodiverse countries on earth, I felt that nothing in Guyana could surpass what I had already experienced: encountering anteaters in the wild, swimming with capybaras, spotting rare birds in the rainforest, and searching for jaguars at night.

I almost deleted the email that led to Destination Stewardship. Looking back, it wasn’t just about writing a book—it was about something I had been noticing in destinations for years.

Night had fallen when we pulled into the Izamal train station. Awash in a golden yellow, illuminated by gentle lighting and the glow of the night sky, I could already tell that this ancient Mayan town was something special.

Sometimes, I can’t pinpoint a place’s resounding sense until the end of a trip. But on my first night in Serbia, I discover its song immediately. I’m having dinner at Restoran Velika Skadarlija, a traditional tavern—known as a Serbian “kafana”—that’s deceivingly spacious, with white tablecloths and a bright interior. As I settle in for dinner, the folk band Tamburica 5 forms a semi-circle around my table, and I hear Serbia’s trademark tamburica before I learn its name.

I met Lily one early January morning at a donut shop off the highway, about a 30-minute drive from Oaxaca City. Lily introduced herself to our small tour group — me and a family of four from Minnesota. She would be leading us for the day, as we visited some of the "must-sees" of Oaxaca. This included the scenic mineral springs and waterfalls of Hierve el Agua, the Zapotec archaeological site of Mitla, lunch at a local spot for memelas, and a visit to a locally owned and run mezcal distillery.