Drink in the world. One destination at a time.
Forget the bourbon trail. A new generation of distillers is quietly setting up shop in forgotten border towns along the US-Canada frontier, blending Old World influences with American grit to create spirits worth driving hours to find. If you haven't heard of them yet, that's kind of the whole point.
For decades, Bordeaux meant one thing: wine, and plenty of reverence around it. But a quiet revolution is underway in France's most storied wine country, where château owners and sommelier-trained bartenders are rolling out the barrel for a new kind of American visitor — one who arrives with a palate shaped by craft cocktails, not just Cabernet.
For nearly a century, Switzerland banned the very spirit it invented. Now, deep in the Val-de-Travers region, a new generation of distillers is bringing absinthe back to life — and American travelers with a taste for the unconventional are making the pilgrimage. Here's why this misunderstood green spirit deserves a spot on your travel bucket list.
Lima has long held a reputation as one of the world's great food cities, but something more liquid is happening in its bar scene. American travelers chasing the next great drinking destination are landing in Peru's capital and discovering a cocktail culture so deeply rooted in local tradition — yet so wildly inventive — that it's changing how the world thinks about pisco. This is the story of a city pouring itself into every glass.
Deep in Japan's rural prefectures, centuries-old sake breweries are drawing a new kind of American traveler — wine and spirits professionals trading Tokyo's neon izakayas for quiet fermentation rooms and intimate tastings with fifth-generation brewmasters. This isn't a sake trip. It's a pilgrimage.
Vermouth spent decades collecting dust in American liquor cabinets, written off as the splash you add to a martini and nothing more. But a quiet revolution—rooted in the hillside producers of Piedmont and the bodega bars of Barcelona—is turning this misunderstood fortified wine into the hottest reason to book a flight to Europe.
Forget the wine train and the tasting room selfie. A growing number of younger American travelers are trading Napa's polished chaos for remote Alpine villages in Austria, Slovenia, and Switzerland, where the hiking is serious, the natural wine is poured by the people who actually made it, and the only queue you'll encounter is the one forming in your own head about whether to stay another week.
Forget the frozen daiquiri by the pool. The Caribbean's real rum story lives deep inside centuries-old distilleries, roadside rum shops, and sugarcane valleys that shaped an entire civilization. Here's how to trade the resort wristband for a proper rum pilgrimage across Barbados, Jamaica, and Trinidad.
Forget rooftop bars — the most jaw-dropping drinking experiences on earth are happening beneath your feet and below the waterline. From submerged cocktail lounges in the Maldives to candlelit cellars carved into centuries-old European rock, adventurous American travelers are going deeper than ever in search of the next great bar experience.
Tucked behind unmarked doors and vintage phone booths in cities most travelers skip entirely, a new wave of historically inspired speakeasies is quietly rewriting the story of American bar culture. From Youngstown to Gary, entrepreneurs are dusting off Prohibition-era playbooks to revive downtown districts and give curious drinkers something genuinely worth seeking out. If you've been sleeping on these towns, your wake-up call just arrived — and it's shaken, not stirred.
Turin and the surrounding Piedmont region invented the bottle behind some of America's most beloved cocktails — and almost nobody from the States has bothered to show up and say thank you. That's quietly changing, and the timing couldn't be better. Here's why Piedmont deserves a serious spot on every American cocktail traveler's radar.
Forget the winery weekend — a new kind of traveler is mapping their road trips entirely around taprooms, barrel rooms, and the small cities that built their identities on craft beer. From Fort Collins to Asheville, these brewery towns are becoming legitimate destinations in their own right, and the people who've discovered them aren't in any hurry to leave.
Forget Kentucky and Tennessee — some of the most exciting whiskey and craft spirits happening in America right now is taking place in former factory towns nobody thought to visit twice. From Pittsburgh to Detroit to Buffalo, post-industrial cities are quietly building cocktail scenes that punch way above their weight, and savvy travelers are starting to take notice.
Most Americans picture Guadalajara or the town of Tequila when they think about Mexico's famous spirit — but some of the most compelling agave experiences are happening in places you've probably never heard of. From the highland valleys of Tamaulipas to the rugged terrain of Michoacán, a new generation of small-batch distillers is rewriting what tequila can be. Pack light, bring a palate, and prepare to get pleasantly lost.
Lisbon has become one of the most Instagrammed cities in Europe, and its rooftop bars — perched above terracotta rooftops with views of the Tagus — are a big part of why remote workers keep choosing it over cheaper, less photogenic alternatives. But behind the golden-hour cocktail photos, a more complicated story is playing out between the city's newcomers and the people who were already there.
Oaxaca's mezcal scene is one of the most exciting—and most misunderstood—drinking cultures in the Americas. Beyond the Instagram-friendly rooftop bars and tourist-trap tastings lies a network of intimate palenque-connected cantinas where serious spirits culture is alive and evolving. Here's how to find it.
Across Bangkok, Chiang Mai, and Ho Chi Minh City, a new kind of third place is emerging — part co-working space, part craft cocktail lounge, all community. American remote workers are at the center of it, and the culture they're building is unlike anything you'll find at home.