We didn't pick Mazatlán, Mexico as a vacation destination for its deep-sea fishing, sailing or any of the other things you can reportedly do there. We picked it because of all the things you don’t do there. Namely, put on pants or shoes (or deodorant, judging from the smell of our fellow tourists). This was our "sit around drinking Mexican beer while reading People Magazine" vacation. But despite our near lack of observable movement, I somehow managed to find things worth writing about: Iguanas, mostly.

Having been to New Orleans a few times, I'd still never fully explored this cultural anomaly; this veritable European city within America's American borders. Lacking only a fleet of washing machine-sized automobiles and a staunch refusal to use deodorant, New Orleans could pass one of the Old Country's crown jewels such as Roma or Paris. Its ample European influences—French-inspired architecture, for example—give the city a character that's unique, sophisticated and almost universally ignored by drunk American tourists.

Ever since I was an art student in college, I'd really only wanted to visit four exotic places: Egypt, Athens, Rome and the Playboy Mansion. Naturally, I was psyched when some friends of ours invited us to go along on their trip to visit relatives in Greece. This was an especially rare opportunity since one of them actually spoke Greek. In hindsight, had we gone to Rome with someone who spoke Italian, we might still be welcome there today.