My Favorite Place?

One of the questions I'm asked most often is, "What's your favorite place you've ever visited?"

It's a great question.

And an almost impossible one to answer.

You see, I don't travel just for the destination.

I travel for the feeling.

For the moments that stop me in my tracks.

For the conversations with people I'll probably never see again.

For the food that somehow becomes part of the memory.

For the landscapes that make me whisper, "Wow," to no one in particular.

Every place leaves its own impression.

Every experience holds its own kind of magic.

Africa left me awestruck. Standing just a few feet from an elephant or watching a pride of lionesses move silently through the grass reminds you that you're simply a visitor in their world. It's something you don't just see—you feel.

Antarctica was peaceful in a way I've never experienced anywhere else. Kayaking through still water while ice cracked in the distance and humpback whales surfaced nearby made the entire world seem to slow down. The silence there is unforgettable.

Iceland felt like another planet. Black sand beaches, waterfalls around every bend, steaming thermal pools, and some of the kindest people I've met.

New Zealand welcomed me with dramatic landscapes and equally welcoming people. Every turn in the road revealed something completely different, making it impossible to stop exploring.

Then there are the moments that don't fit neatly on a map.

Watching the sun set over the Greek Islands.

Surfing in Costa Rica.

Standing in awe at Machu Picchu.

Floating in a hot air balloon over Egypt's Valley of the Kings as the first light of day spread across the desert.

And, of course, the tastes that instantly transport me back.

Gelato in Italy.

Chocolate in Belgium.

A glass of local wine shared with new friends, wherever I happen to be.

But here's what I've realized.

I don't travel to collect destinations.

I travel to collect perspectives.

Even the places closest to home—a quiet Florida beach before sunrise or a neighborhood coffee shop—have taught me something if I was willing to slow down and notice.

So no... I don't have a favorite place.

Choosing just one would mean overlooking what every other destination gave me.

Each journey has changed me in some small way.

Each photograph reminds me not only of what I saw, but of what I felt.

And maybe that's the real gift of travel.

Not finding your favorite place...

But allowing every place to become part of who you are.

A Note from the Window Seat: Every destination has a story. The question isn't which place is the best—it's what each one teaches you if you're willing to look a little closer.