Dominica

Rumor has it, once you've mastered driving on Dominica, you can drive anywhere in the world.

It's easy to see why. It is, literally, a jungle. Its roads, most of which are no wider than a Chicago alley, crawl over mountains and cling to cliffs tumbling down to the Caribbean Sea. All of their turns are shaped like hairpins, and all of their curves are as blind as the nightfall here, where there are no streetlights or stoplights—only stars. And, just to make things interesting for the 66 percent of the licensed driving world who are accustomed to keeping right, Dominica's former British Commonwealth status means that here, one hugs the curves to the left.

But driving on Dominica would be missing the point. This island is meant to be explored on foot, ideally while wearing a pair of Teva sandals. It's crawling with natural hiking trails adorned by 1,200 species of plants and flowers, some of which recoil when touched, like sea anemones. There are spectacular waterfalls and hot springs, including the huge Boiling Lake in the center, and the island is surrounded by waters clear enough for snorkeling, deep enough for diving and just choppy enough to make kayaking interesting. And because it's not easy to get here (travel time runs about 17 hours with two connections), it remains—and here's the tour operator's selling point—"one of the most unspoilt islands in the Caribbean."

Pronounced "Dom-in-EEK-a," not to be confused with the Dominican Republic (though it often is), this English-speaking volcanic island is home to about 71,000 people, including 3,000 native Caribs, who reside in a dedicated Carib Territory on the island's northeast side—similar to the Native American reservations in the States.

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Belize: Ambergris Caye

Hugging the second longest coral reef in the world, Belize's Ambergris Caye draws boatloads of divers and snorkelers. It's also a jumping-off point for day trips to mainland Belize -- Central America's only English-speaking country -- to tour Mayan temples and jungle caves.

Ambergris Caye is a quirky little island where golf carts are the preferred mode of travel. The beefy-wheeled carts drive like dune buggies on the island's packed sand streets that are littered with potholes.

Once home to pirates, the 25-mile long sliver of an island has white sandy beaches and palm trees to the east and mangroves to the west. San Pedro, the island's only town, is about a 20-minute flight in a propeller plane from Belize City or a 90-minute boat ride.

With laws limiting buildings to four stories and no port for cruise ships, growth has been steady but controlled. It's not Cancun. Condos and resorts have been sprouting up along the northern and southern areas of the island giving tourists more options -- and increasing traffic on the laid-back patch of land. A tiny rope-pulled ferry with barely enough space for two golf carts was replaced two years ago with a new toll bridge over a narrow channel north of town.

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Cusco: Peru

An introduction to mostly true stories by a gringo who has had an ongoing love affair with the town for 28 years. Laced throughout with interesting and little-known tidbits of Inca history, as well as views of contemporary and ancient Cusco culture.

Cusco is not just a town; it is a place of God and man-made beauty. It is a crossroads, an experience. It is even a time machine of sorts. If you don’t know Cusco, you’re missing something. There’s no other place like it.

Ask anyone who’s been there. It is the oldest inhabited city in the Western Hemisphere. They now call it “The archaeological capital of America.” In Inca times they called Cusco “The Navel of the World.”

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Kayaking in Costa Rica

That's what flashes through my mind just after a rapid on the Pejibaye River flips my kayak. The swift water turns me into a human dredge, my helmet churning up stones on the shallow river bottom. My right hand slams into a rock. My lungs are nearing empty.

I finally get my paddle extended and roll up. I have just enough time to think, that wasn't so bad, when my shoulder hits the boulder to my left, flipping me back into the froth.

A few more bumps and I roll up, gulping air. Blood runs down my fingers. My shoulder throbs.

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