I am at 34,000 feet, halfway to a place in Mexico where I’ve been many times before—so instead of reviewing a guidebook or itinerary, I’m enjoying my iPod, the view out the window, and the prospect of not wearing shoes for five days. The only things I did to prepare for this vacation were keep an eye on the water temperature and clean my fish­ing gear.

When you’re traveling, sometimes knowing what’s ahead is even more exciting than anticipating the unknown. I am well aware of what I will see, smell, taste, and experience during this trip, with the exception of how many times my fishing rod will bend into a U, and what will be on the other end of the line. Traveling for pleasure is good for the soul and for recharging your inner batteries, particularly when you visit another country. The element of a different language helps me feel like I am really away from my day-to-day life. It immediately forces me to stop talking so much, choose from my limited vocabulary carefully, and become more introspective. It creates more time to think.

I can feel the heat off the tarmac permeating the skin of the aircraft as it glides to a halt. But it’s not until the seal of the door is broken and the warmth and fragrance are pulled into the cabin that I know I’ve finally arrived. Any airport that has a rolling stairway set up along the yellow lines next to the runway is good by me. Heading down those steps provides immediate gratification, filling me with a sense of my new location in an instant.

Squinting against the sun and wind, I consider the absurdity that this jet casting a huge shadow over us can actually get off the ground. Inside the terminal, if I did anything but smile at the ridiculous amount of time it takes for the luggage-stuffed carts to travel the 100 feet from the jet to the carousel, it would stress me out—and that’s not why I’m here.

After waiting half an hour for my bag, I feel my heartbeat quicken a bit as I approach the green and red lights in the inspection area, even though I’m not smuggling a thing. Green light! I’m still not completely wound down yet, but then mi amigo at the little bar outside the entry to the airport hands me a cold shot of Cuervo Tradicional and a freezing bottle of Pacif­ico. And that does the trick. I love to travel.

Please enjoy our annual fall and win­ter travel issue. Editor-in-chief Bruce Kelley and his team have marshaled some of the most exciting options for you to consider—now go away!

Thanks for your readership, as always. I’ll see you at Nopa.