The whole thing started with restaurants.
In 1999, when this column was young, the job was simple — eat somewhere, write about it, help the reader find something worth finding. That was it. That's still it.
Though somewhere along the way, the restaurant became a Tuscan villa. The villa became hotels in Spain, then a marble quarry, then a private island in Scotland, then an igloo above the Arctic Circle. People stopped being readers and became guests — 1,500 of them, across 72 tours, over a decade of Yonderlust Travel.
The job didn't change. The scope did.
The following is not a travel brag. What it is, is a thank-you note — to the 1,500 people who have handed me their vacation time and their money and their willingness to be surprised and trusted me to do something worthy of all three. I just did the legwork.
I'm writing this from Europe, finishing up my fourth of five Yonderlust tours this spring. Tomorrow, I head to Portugal to host 25 Americans through that country before heading home. Six weeks on the road puts one in a reflective mood. Last night I started a list.
Most of these I've done more than once. And every time, the best part wasn't my experience. It was watching somebody else have theirs. True story. You do this work long enough; you stop being the traveler. You become the person handing the trip to someone else. Turns out that's the better job. Who knew?
Counting down:
20.) Dinner in a Scottish castle dressed in kilts, with bagpipes, folk dancers, and yes, even haggis. Nobody arrives thinking this will be a highlight. Everybody leaves blown away.
19.) Private after-hours tour of Churchill's War Rooms. They opened all the spaces usually closed to the public. They let me sit in his chair.
18.) Choppers on the levee in the Netherlands. The North Sea to the right, the Dutch lowlands to the left, a seafood feast waiting in the harbor. A great half-day that always ends up in my mind’s highlight reel.
17.) Driving deep into the marble caves at Carrara. Michelangelo pulled his stone from those walls. I'll be bringing more people there this fall.
16.) Private night tour of the Doge's Palace, Venice. Most people who visit Venice never see that building without 400 strangers in it. The silence and stillness change the energy entirely.
15.) Dancing the YMCA with Dario Cecchini in Ponzano. Anthony Bourdain called him the most famous butcher in the world. The dance happens semi-spontaneously, after lunch in the butcher shop, and a room full of Yonderlusters joins in every time. Exuberance is vastly underrated as a travel experience.
14.) The Godfather villa, Sicily. I've taken three groups to that place. Most turn into film nerds on the spot. It's one of my favorite things to watch.
13.) Rooftop above Valencia during the Fallas. Ten floors up. Lunch, a full bar, daytime fireworks (trust me, it's a thing), 40,000 people in the streets below. It's like a massive cathedral or a Tuscan sunset — photos don't do it justice. You have to be there.
12.) A progressive dinner on a canal in The Netherlands. A private chartered boat, three courses, three stops on the water. What guests remember is the simple fact that somebody figured out how to move a dinner party across a city by canal.
11.) Boat cruise through the Norwegian fjords. There are places on earth that don't look like earth. The fjords are near the top of that list.
10.) Murder mystery dinner on a private island on Loch Linnhe, Scotland. The first time I took a group there it felt like a scene from an Agatha Christie novel. The second time, I turned it into one.
9.) Wooden boats to Capri, then dinner on the Amalfi Coast. Not a short ride, or a three-hour tour — six hours— on and off the boat— of cobalt blue water. A prosecco toast at sunset, then dinner at the water's edge near a cave. Looking forward to doing it again this fall.
8.) Lunch in the homes of Spanish women just north of Málaga. A stranger opens their actual dining room, seats you at the family table, feeds you what they cook for their families. You don't get that on the mass tours. It doesn't get more local. There's no way it could.
7.) A private boat on the Amsterdam canals during King's Day. Mardi Gras ain't got nothing on King's Day in Amsterdam. A sea of orange and two dozen ecstatic Americans among hundreds of boats and thousands of partiers.
6.) Vespas through the Prosecco hills of northern Italy. One of Italy's most beautiful areas. A few guests described it as the afternoon they didn't expect to love as much as they did.
5.) Four-wheelers on Mount Etna. We ride four-wheelers across an active volcano and then eat sandwiches on top of it. I seriously never get tired of that sentence.
4.) Private opera concert in our Tuscany villa. A world-renowned tenor, a historic villa, twenty-five people who didn't know what was coming. Most of them had never heard anything like it that close up. More than one guest has teared up over the years. Enough said.
3.) Dog sledding above the Arctic Circle. On any other list, this is number one. It just has bad timing.
2.) Recording in U2's studio, Dublin. We hired a tribute band to play a full U2 set in the same room U2 records in. Then every guest recorded "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" as a full group choir. They went home with a recording. We've pulled off some impressive experiences over the years. This one is close to tops for me.
1.) Northern lights above the Arctic Circle, with a king crab dinner. I had built this up in my mind for so long I was truly worried it was going to be a letdown. It was more awesome than I expected. Period. End of story.
When I started leading tours, I knew I'd enjoy turning people on to things I'd discovered over here. What I didn't expect were the friendships. Not the pleasant, see-you-next-trip kind, though there's some of that too. Real ones. The people I now count among my closest friends who started as strangers in a villa in Tuscany. It kept happening, and I never saw it coming.
Honestly, that tops everything on this list. Every item. And I mean that.
I am grateful — beyond what this column can hold — that people trust me with their vacation time and their money and their willingness to be surprised. I didn't take that for granted when it was the first 25 guests. I don't take it for granted now that it's 1,500. Tomorrow, Portugal. Twenty-five more Americans about to have their first time seeing something I'm blessed to share with them. I already know what that's going to look like on their faces.
That's the job. Still is.
Onward.
ORANGE AND BOURBON GLAZED DUCK
Serves 8
2 ducks (5 to 6 pounds each) 1 tablespoon kosher salt 2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper 1 navel orange ½ cup fresh orange juice ¾ cup blackberry preserves ½ cup bourbon ½ cup light agave syrup 2 teaspoons garlic, minced 2 teaspoons soy sauce 1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
One day in advance, pat the ducks dry with paper towels. Using a skewer or fork, pierce the skin over the entire surface of each duck. Place the ducks uncovered on a rack set over a rimmed baking sheet and refrigerate overnight.
Remove the ducks from the refrigerator. Using butcher's twine, tie the legs together. Allow the ducks to rest at room temperature for 30 minutes.
Preheat the oven to 425°F.
Rub the ducks all over with the salt and pepper. Place on a rack set in a large roasting pan and roast for 40 minutes.
While the ducks roast, zest the orange until you have 1 tablespoon of zest. Using a paring knife, remove the remaining peel and pith. Cut the segments free from the membranes, reserving all juice. You need ½ cup total orange juice; supplement with additional orange juice if necessary.
Combine the zest, orange segments, orange juice, blackberry preserves, bourbon, agave syrup, and garlic in a small saucepan over high heat. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer until reduced by half, about 15 minutes. Stir in the soy sauce and cayenne pepper. Remove from the heat.
After 40 minutes, reduce the oven temperature to 350°F. Carefully remove the ducks from the oven and pour off the accumulated fat, reserving it for another use. (Duck fat is exceptional for roasting or frying potatoes.) Brush the ducks generously with the glaze and return them to the oven. Roast for 20 to 25 minutes more, or until an instant-read thermometer inserted into the thickest part of the thigh registers 165°F.
Remove the ducks from the oven and brush with any remaining glaze. Let rest for 20 minutes before carving.
