Hometown: Sag Harbor, New York.
Occupation: Author, builder.
Favorite destinations: Phi Phi Islands, Thailand; Alta, Utah; Les Calanques, France, dude ranches.
Bizarre travel rituals: None, really, unless you count packing at the very last minute bizarre.
In-flight relaxation regime: DeciDamps, no shoes, iPod.
Always in carry-on: Felonious amounts of H20, Elmore Leonard novel.
Concierge or DIY? Giddyap! DIY.
See it all or take it easy? Yes!
Drive or be driven? Naughty you, Questionnaire! Drive.
Travel hero: Lawrence Millman, Lewis & Clark, Alain de Botton. And my parents, who, in their seventies. still liked to tent camp.
Weirdest thing seen on travels: A lizard on the ceiling of a Mexican bus. Of course, by that time, the ceiling had become the floor. And then there were the Guatemalan guerillas rolling across the road, aiming at my yellow VW bug.
Best hotel amenity: Windows that open wide — wide enough to jump through, should I suddenly discover I'm Jason Bourne.
Dying to visit: No, I'm living to visit Croatia, New Zealand, Argentina.
I always bring home a determination to return very soon.
Everywhere I go, I check out the tennis courts and sports opportunities.
I dream about my meal at some nameless taqueria in an alley in Oaxaca.
When I arrive in a new place, I learn the lay of the land by taking a run. Then, tactically Yelping. And, with obvious exceptions, getting lost in a locale is the best way to really find out where you are.
If I never return to Lake Como, it'll be too soon because well, okay, I'm just messin' with you.
I travel for the awesome.