Tag: travel

Named after the university town of Oxford, England, this north-central Mississippi town was founded in 1837 by three men who wanted to establish a site for the state’s first higher-learning institution. Now, more than 175 years later, Oxford is home to the University of Mississippi (colloquially known as Ole Miss), as well as a rich cultural and literary history.

In the sea of blue, orange, and white, people hug each other as they celebrate another win by the Tigers. But the Auburn family spirit doesn’t stop with football; it can be seen all over town throughout the year.

Sky-high luxury quarters and a decidedly down-to-earth vibe—experience the best of both worlds on Alabama’s Gulf Coast.

Combining Main Street U.S.A charm with inspired design and civic planning, this picture-perfect Florida community charms with pastel cottages and sugar-white beaches.

A newly reimagined luxury resort on this timeless northeast Florida barrier island promises a family-friendly escape to paradise.

You know what’s just as much fun as Disney’s beloved ride “It’s a Small World”? A pontoon tour of Winter Park’s chain of lakes.

The official portrait of the 2004 G8 Summit shows the leaders of the world’s top industrialized nations strolling down a Georgia beach at Sea Island. The prime minister of Japan, Junichiro Koizumi, is gesturing animatedly to an amused George W. Bush. Tony Blair stuffs his hands casually in his pockets like a GQ model. Putin scowls. They walk ten abreast along the flat, smooth beach.

Alabama didn’t end up with much oceanfront, but the towns tucked along Mobile Bay provide enough culture, architecture, and good food that visitors don’t miss the white sand. Fairhope, on the eastern side of the inlet, is just five hours or so from Atlanta and in some ways has more in common with Highlands, North Carolina, than sand-and-surf destinations like Panama City Beach.

You know those “moments” that the travel industry promises if you just hop on a plane and get to an exotic beach? Those moments of existential bliss, of zen-like relaxation, possible (we’re told) only by traveling great distances and coughing up great gouts of cash? I don’t have those moments. At least I didn’t until one rainy afternoon on the west coast of Costa Rica.

“Well,” I said to my husband, “I don’t think I have ever dined out looking so grubby in my life—but I don’t remember when I last felt this relaxed.” With another swig from a bottle of PBR, I leaned back in the wooden bench on the wide front porch of Indian Pass Trading Post and listened as Kerry James, whose sun-streaked hair and leathered skin testified to decades of beach bumming, belted his way through “Sweet Caroline.”