Professional Traveler Shares His Personal Favorites

Ultimates are hard to pin down when it comes to travel. Where’s the best scenery? The whitest beach? The cheapest hotel room? The scariest mountain drive? In 15 years as a travel columnist for The Washington Post, I’ve compiled my own list of favorites - the best and the worst. Not everyone will agree - we travelers are, after all, an opinionated lot. But perhaps you can learn something from my experience.

Best scenery (anywhere in the world): Yosemite Valley in California’s Yosemite National Park, any season of the year. Ignore the summer crowds you’re one among them and absorb the grandeur of sheer granite cliffs, cascading waterfalls, tall pines and mountain meadows cut by a racing stream. I return nearly every year, and I’m still in awe.

Top city for fun: San Antonio. Along the River Walk, every night is a Mexican-style fiesta. Tiled fountains splash in adobe-walled patios, pinatas decorate shop windows, the scent of fajitas lingers and mariachi tunes set feet to tapping. My vote for runner-up: New Orleans. (The dullest cities I’ve visited are Atlanta and Indianapolis.)

Liveliest museum: Circus World Museum in Baraboo, Wis. On the former winter quarters of the Ringling Brothers Circus, this unique museum re-creates the hoopla of an old-fashioned circus. Professional acts perform daily beneath the Big Top, the parade on the midway features historic circus wagons, and clown fans can catch a demonstration of the slap-happy crew carefully applying their colorful makeup.

Fanciest swimming pool: Venetian Pool in Coral Gables, Fla. Created from a coral quarry, the pool’s splashing waterfalls, swim-through caves and lush landscaping are like something right out of the flamboyant old Hollywood musicals. Esther Williams would fit right in. And the public is welcome.

Roughest outdoor adventure: Rock-climbing with the Outward Bound organization in California’s Joshua Tree National Park. Heights sometimes bother me, but I got no sympathy. “See that ledge up there?” said the guide, pointing high up the side of a steep cliff. “That’s where we’re going to spend the night.” Like it or not, I climbed hand over hand to our lofty campsite.

Most memorable trip: Inn-to-inn hiking in Tuscany. With a British tour group, my wife and I rambled for more than a week through the sunny Italian countryside, the vineyards heavy with grapes. Our goal each day was a small inn in a historic hilltop town, where we gathered nightly around a communal table to sample the local food and wine.

Cheapest lodgings ever: Unbelieveably, 14 cents a night, which 25 years ago got me a cot in an open-air compound ringed by mud walls in Kabul, Afghanistan. These accommodations proved the old saying, “You get what you pay for.” Down the road in Jalalabad a few nights later, I upgraded to a $1-a-night room with a roof over my head. (The most I ever spent for lodgings was in 1995-$800 a night for two people with meals at Thornbury Castle near Bristol, England, where my wife and I slept in the room once occupied by Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn.)

Most exotic spectator sport: The Friday morning camel races in Dubai, one of the United Arab Emirates. At the racetrack, the ruling sheiks enjoyed plush leather seats and service by tuxedoed waiters. My guide, Abdul, and I sat in simple shaded bleachers. At race time, about 20 camels shuffled onto the track behind the starting rope. Suddenly, it was yanked free, and off the bunch went, loping in their ungainly way around the five-mile oval. The crowd shouted excitedly, even though gambling wasn’t permitted. The camel I was rooting for, ugliest of the lot, trailed badly.

Hippest beach: South Beach in Miami Beach, where the world’s fashion trendies gather nightly for an ongoing street party along Ocean Drive. Set amid beautifully restored art deco hotels, cafes and shops, this is the place to see and be seen. And the sand and the surf aren’t bad, either.

Scariest U.S. highway: The 20-mile stretch of U.S. Route 550 in Colorado south from Ouray to Silverton in the San Juan Mountains. From Ouray, the two-lane road climbs quickly hundreds of feet up a narrow ledge gouged out of the mountainside above Uncompahgre Gorge. There is room enough for two cars to pass, but barely. And where the drop-off seems most precipitous, neither shoulders nor safety guard rails have been built. Fallen rocks scatter the pavement, and around tight curves the speed limit drops to 15 mph - a sane speed for this road.

Finest resort, and the quietest: Ventana, a 59-room resort on a redwood-shaded hillside overlooking California’s rugged Big Sur coast. Sophisticated, sensuous and serene (children not welcome), it caters mostly to couples looking for quality time together in a hushed, sleepy ambiance. No tennis, no golf - only a couple of heated pools and hot tubs, fresh air and plenty of free time to contemplate the views.

Most imperial capital: Vienna. No ruler sits today on Vienna’s once imperial throne, but the aura of empire is draped across its ancient precincts like a sumptuous, ermine-trimmed robe. Horse-drawn carriages clip-clop down narrow streets past the colorful facades of former palaces, and sparkling chandeliers hang overhead at the most modest of coffeehouses.

Most awesome hike: The 11-mile (one way) Kalalau Trail on the northern coast of Kauai in Hawaii, which follows an ancient footpath. On the left, red-rock cliffs, draped in a rich cloak of tropical green, soar skyward 3,000 feet above the trail. On the right, the sheer cliff drops to a roiling sea crashing against the rocks. Enjoy the view, but watch where you step.

Best drive into history: The 2,170-mile Oregon Trail, beginning at Independence, Mo., and ending in Oregon City, Ore. Much of the majestic landscape through which the legendary wagon trains once passed is little changed by the years. Rolling green prairie gives way to high, sun-baked desert, which in turn yields to snow-clad mountains.

Finest dining: California. Everything good grows fresh in the state, beginning with almonds, artichokes and avocados, which seems to stimulate the creativeness of its chefs. You probably can find a bad meal, but it’s not easy. (Worst dining: North Dakota. Two driving tours in the state have convinced me.)

Most rewarding adventure: A five-day, 55-mile horse-packing trip through the back country of Yellowstone National Park, sponsored by the Yellowstone Institute. Following the path of the tragic band of Nez Perce Indians, who in 1877 passed through Yellowstone in terror-filled flight from the U.S. Army, we forded white-water rivers, crossed through grizzly country, endured the pummeling of four separate hailstorms in a single day, bathed in snow-fed streams and gaped at brilliant fields of wildflowers.

Loveliest city: Venice, no question about it. Visitors go all teary-eyed in reverence when they catch their first glimpse of the Grand Canal. I know, because I was one of them. A bit scruffy to some, it survives today as a living museum of the grandeur of a more ornate age.

Most romantic view: The twinkling lights of Acapulco Bay in Acapulco, as seen from your private hillside pool at Las Brisas, one of Mexico’s premier resorts. Every day the staff scatters fresh hibiscus blossoms on the water.

Favorite cruise: Five days aboard a Maine windjammer, reliving the heyday of New England’s coastal schooners. No luxuries here, and none sought. We bathed in the chilly sea, helped hoist the sails (no motors on our vessel), swabbed the deck and, yes, took turns doing the dishes. Sort of like camping at sea, and lots of fun.

Friendliest holiday: A week on a western dude ranch, where nearly everybody fell in love with his or her horse. Trail riding was the major activity, but square dancing proved very popular in the evenings. And the week ended with a fun rodeo, where my horse and I tested our new skills as a team.

Biggest surprise: Western North Dakota. Sometimes desolate but never dull, this remote corner on the edge of the prairie possesses the wonderful, soul-nurturing beauty of wide-open spaces. Some of the most famous names in the history of the American frontier passed this way, leaving a path as intriguing as any I have followed.

Fondest dream (unfulfilled): Visiting all of the country’s 375 national parklands. I’m well on my way, and eagerly so. No park, so far, has proved disappointing, and for good reason. They protect America’s most scenic and most historic places. A park visit is always one of my favorite vacations.