Ultra-wealthy people are working remotely from their superyachts and running their businesses from the high seas

Certainly there’s never a bad time to visit Jackson Hole, the high-altitude Wyoming mountain town (pop. 10,698) surrounded by spectacular jagged mountains and adhereing to those “old timey” western ways. Plus: autumn’s crisp air ushers in amber-hues and golden aspens that seemingly pop everywhere you look in Grand Teton National Park. And, with thinner crowds and lower hotel rates, you’ll also find bugling elk and a snow dusting on the mountaintops (and just before the winter ski bunnies descend).

In August 2021, I booked my first solo trip to Europe: A $439 United flight from Cleveland, Ohio, to Madrid, Spain, with a short layover in Newark, New Jersey. 

Madame Ziemowit the witch nods and scratches her beard as I flip a tarot card, revealing the chariot symbol. Picking the chariot seems fitting, as the turban-clad sorcerer and I are on a train, having just crossed the border from Germany into Poland. Multicoloured lightbulbs adorn carriage windows, framing a green-blue blur of fields and rivers. Next to us a toddler, sitting in a mini-library by the loo, draws squiggles on an Etch A Sketch. A jaunty brass fanfare plays through the carriage speakers.

I moved to Minneapolis, Minnesota, from Ewing, New Jersey, in 2019 to attend the University of Minnesota. I planned to earn my degree, get a job on the East Coast, and fall right back into the comfort of my hometown — but that never happened. 

Despite its hostile border, South Korea has never struggled to lure in visitors, attracting a whopping 17 million tourists annually.

At 18 years old, I moved to Madrid, Spain, to become an au pair for the summer. 

A luxury cruise carrying 206 passengers is now stuck in a remote part of Greenland after it ran aground.

Job openings for the leisure and hospitality segment of the U.S. economy remain disproportionately high compared to other industries, which could slow the travel industry’s growth as the country considers its future following its post-pandemic recovery period.

A guy jumped into Elvis Presley's swimming pool while touring the late singer's Graceland home — and people online disagree on how the King of Rock 'n Roll would have felt about it.  

In November 2016, a 7.8-magnitude earthquake struck and ravaged the region around the town of Kaikoura on the east coast of New Zealand’s South Island. The earthquake and the ensuing landslides killed two people, and demolished homes, roads, and railway tracks. Indeed, parts of the Main North Line, one of the most scenic rail routes in the world, slid into the ocean, forcing the Coastal Pacific train to stop its operation. In 2018, the line was repaired and the magnificent train journey between Christchurch and Picton resumed. Today, the Coastal Pacific still runs along the Pacific Ocean, allowing travelers to see New Zealand’s beauty, the slow and comfortable way.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Jeff Farschman, a 74-year-old retiree who lives in Dover, Delaware. The following has been edited for length and clarity.

The path, more of a faint depression in the field I had just crossed, disappeared into a wood: yes, I could see an opening in the vegetation. The day before, I had left the official walking route of the Via Francigena, an ancient pilgrimate route from Canterbury to Rome, to stay at a B&B that was highly rated and affordable. Early next morning, after stuffing my pockets with the breakfast my hostess had set out for me, I cracked open the massive gate in the wall surrounding the little country compound and sneaked through.