Jim Benning
I’ve loved many of the albums that post-punk ‘80s icon Joe Jackson has put out over the years, from the travel-themed Big World to his new one, “Rain,” which he recorded in Berlin. I just discovered that YouTube has a four-minute video, posted four months ago, of him exploring Berlin and playing tour guide. It won’t allow for embedding, but you can see it here. He’s not half bad. Any other pop-star tour guides I’ve missed doing their own version of Rick Steves or Anthony Bourdain?

Adam Karlin
It’s kinda clichéd, yet it’s one of the things I love most anywhere, anytime: spring. Yesterday I took advantage of a freelancer’s office obligations (i.e.: “none") and went to Buzzy’s Country Store in St. Mary’s County, MD, bought a 10-ounce Budweiser (only available here), drank it at Church Point on the St. Mary’s River, stripped to my skivvies and went for a swim. Then I sat under a tree while everything that could bloom, did. It felt like God was smiling at the world. Having just watched the BBC’s Planet Earth, I know all the animals and plants were just competing in order to mate with and devour one other, but somehow, I could see links between those animals’ instincts—say, for protection and warmth—and their evolution into human compassion, empathy, humor, etc., the sort of emotions that I reckon it’s a writer’s duty to capture.

Frank Bures
In Minneapolis, I stopped at a Somali restaurant for lunch. The credit card machine was down. There was no one else in the place. I had to go back in the kitchen to find the cook, and the order was messed up when it came. But by the time I got my goat meat (bones and all) and beautifully spiced rice with onions, I was so hungry that it tasted even better than it would have otherwise.

Eva Holland
I wasn’t sure what to expect in terms of dining options on Bequia, a seven-square-mile member of the Grenadines chain where I spent most of the last week. Intimidating local street vendors? Bad attempts at burgers and fries? Bland hotel buffets? Instead, I wound up at a strip of laid-back restaurant/beach bars, catering to the yachting set and serving classy takes on local specialties. My favorites: curry conch with rice, and callaloo soup.

Michael Yessis
I’m still unpacking from my recent move, and last night I came across a tattered photocopy of one of my all-time favorite pieces of travel writing, or any kind of writing: David Foster Wallace‘s 1996 Harper’s essay “Shipping Out: On the (Nearly Lethal) Comforts of a Luxury Cruise.” I skimmed a few pages, and I’m still in awe of Wallace’s ability to conjure the details and absurdities of cruise travel. A random line, selected by flipping the pages and pointing a finger at the text: “I have dickered over trinkets with malnourished children.” The story is unavailable online, unfortunately, except for Harper’s subscribers. It’s also been retitled and included in his anthology, A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again.