“The beauty of good writing is that it transports the reader inside another person’s experience in some other physical place and culture,” writes Padma Lakshmi in her introduction, “and, at its best, evokes a palpable feeling of being in a specific moment in time and space.” The essays in this year’s Best American Travel Writing are an antidote to the isolation of the year 2020, giving us views into experiences unlike our own and taking us on journeys we could not take ourselves. From the lively music of West Africa, to the rich culinary traditions of Muslims in Northwest China, to the thrill of a hunt in Alaska, this collection is a treasure trove of diverse places and cultures, providing the comfort, excitement, and joy of feeling elsewhere. THE BEST AMERICAN TRAVEL WRITING 2021 INCLUDES KIESE MAKEBA LAYMON • LESLIE JAMISON • BILL BUFORD • JON LEE ANDERSON • MEGHAN DAUM LIGAYA MISHAN • PAUL THEROUX and others
JASON WILSON is the author of Godforsaken Grape: A Slightly Tipsy Journey through the World of Strange, Obscure, and Underappreciated Wine, to be published in April by Abrams Books. Wilson is also the author of Boozehound: On the Trail of the Rare, the Obscure, and the Overrated in Spirits, and the series editor of The Best American Travel Writing since its inception in 2000. A regular contributor to the Washington Post, Wilson wrote an award-winning drinks column for years. Wilson has also been beer columnist for the San Francisco Chronicle, dining critic for the Philadelphia Daily News and Philadelphia Magazine, and has written for the New York Times, NewYorker.com, AFAR, National Geographic Traveler, and many other magazines and newspapers.
This collection, published in October 2021, assembles essays and articles originally published in 2020, the first year of the pandemic, during which much of the world was in lockdown. I’d been wondering, before reading it, how the editors would handle that. In fact many of the pieces included this year aren’t about traveling in 2019 or 2020, but reflect on memories of trips from years ago, or about coming to know one’s home better, or a combination of the two. A number of the pieces ramble. Overall, it feels as though this year’s editor, Padma Lakshmi, was more moved by striking images or insights within a piece, rather than its overall tightness or balance. That adds up to a diversity of flavors and relatively few travel cliches. These authors are reaching for or offering something new, which makes for interesting reading, even if they don’t entirely hit their marks - and a number of the shorter pieces just sort of end.
Favorites this year for me include Bill Buford, ‘Good Bread’, on his experience of food, community, and place in Lyon, France; Ben Taub, ‘Five Oceans, Five Deeps’, an account of an expedition to explore the deep seas that sounds almost too McGuyvered to be real; Meg Bernhard, ‘Water or Sky?’, on the accidental death of friends and the loneliness of travel and perhaps youth generally; Latria Graham, ‘Out There, Nobody Can Hear You Scream’, on exploring the Great Smokey Mountains as a Black woman (this piece was also collected in the Best American Science & Nature Writing of 2021); and Jon Lee Anderson, ‘Wanderlust’, a throwback to the genre of early 20th century stories of restless young (white) men headed out into the world, thriving on wilderness and the kindness of strangers. Elizabeth Miller, ‘The Losing Coast’, about the sinking Louisiana coastline, is also good as an introduction to that issue, but because I work in a related space, did not open new doors for me.
The last two pieces in the book - Jon Lee Anderson’s ‘Wanderlust’ and Paul Theroux’s much shorter ‘A Fear-Filled Lockdown’, make an interesting pair, particularly in light of the pieces from diverse authors that precede them. Theroux’s travel writing rarely clicks for me, and this essay, written during lockdown, feels like the jaded war story of a foreign correspondent who wants you to know that he has seen it all before. Meanwhile, Anderson - an actual war correspondent - tells a true adventure story, with a wash of tolerant amusement and affection for his clueless but energetic younger self. Both stories implicitly reflect the status enjoyed by white American men in the second half of the 20th century; a writer with any other constellation of identities would be unlikely to have had these experiences. It helps to read them after Intan Paramiditha, ‘On the Complicated Questions Around Writing About Travel’, which explicitly addresses the question of what it means for a writer of color from a less developed nation to ‘travel’ and write about it.
This collection of stories had me crying, gasping, and reading full essays out loud alone in my room because they were so poetic or relatable or inspiring. What an great capsule of moments+places+events of 2020 - and what outstanding representations of what travel writing can be!
Favorite stories include: Doug Clark’s piece on passengers quarantined on the Diamond Princess cruise ship in the early days of COVID-19, Kiese Laymon’s poem and reflections about Mississippi, Meghan Gunn’s piece on assault and realization in Borneo, Glynis Macbicol’s essay on the new New York City, Amanda Fortini’s local perspective about Las Vegas, Latria Graham’s letter touching upon Blackness in the outdoors and the world, and Ligaya Mishan’s reflections on Han and Uygur relations in Xi’an, China.
Unlike most books in this series, this edition felt complete, rich with an array of perspectives, experiences, and commentary on the current state of the world!
While I haven’t fully read a book yet in the “Best American Travel Writing” series, I was curious to read the final book in the series. The essays are all published during the year prior, so these are from 2020 when the world was not traveling so much. Was it a coincidence? Beginning in 2024 it was merged with another series, so going forward as “Best American Food and Travel Writing”. Both topics go well together and this last contained several essays that seemed more about food than travel.
Happily not all of the essays were lamenting about cancelled travel and pandemic related issues. The editor of the series and editor of this year both were heavily into that topic, as the foreword and introduction. I was ready to move on by that point. Yet the book opened with several more pandemic stories. The first one about being trapped in a cruise ship during the beginning, following several different groups of people. (Inside the Nightmare Voyage of the Diamond Princess by Doug Bock Clark) The story was well written, so I continued reading it.
Several more essays in we finally veer away from pandemic stories. Good Bread by Bill Buford was well done. He is living in Lyon, France looking for work as a cook and not having any luck. But the story is about the baker Bob, he makes the best bread in Lyon according to Buford. Buford spends some time working for him, learning Bob’s secrets and what makes good bread.
Several essays hardly seemed to be about travel at all. As mentioned food was prevalent in some essays, but there were other outliers. One about climate change being seen by a changing landscape of the coast off Louisiana (The Losing Coast by Elizabeth Miller), and another about fires in marijuana growing country in California (California's Weed Country is Lit by Jackie Bryant), among others. Maybe they were considered as travel since the writers of these essays weren’t from that area?
The book seemed short in comparison to other books in the annual “The Best American” series, such as the Science and Nature or the Essays. I’m not that much into food that I'd love reading about it, doubt I will read any of the new series. Instead I will read the prior years, especially the ones I own and have not yet read.
Yes, travel during the pandemic waves of 2020 and 2021 was difficult. But if you're going to publish a book titled The Best American Travel Writing 2021, then figure out how to get it done. The start of this book was way too New York-centric -- the story of celebrity lock-down life in the introduction by Padma Lakshmi, the inane stories about the guilt of ditching Manhattan or the inner strength required to stay. About 25% of the stories were good reads; too few for a book that claims to contain the best American travel writing of last year.
This is the worst travel book I have ever read. From the first piece, that was obviously written by someone that has it in for Princess Cruises, to the ones screaming racism at every chance, this was nothing less than a way to push woke bs down our throats.
4.5 stars. This is a well-curated collection with lots of variety, but the foreward by Jason Wilson is excellent, as was the introduction by Padma Lakshmi. Both contextualized the loss of travel and more importantly, connection over the going on three years of pandemic life. I loved many if the essays- Kiese Laymon writes poetically about the days in the beginning, Bill Buford’s essay Good Bread is a masterclass, but I have a real soft spot for Noah Galuten’s thoughts about food and travel and how the special thing isn’t the eating, but the people who show off their hometowns that make travel worthwhile.
This is the first American travel writing collection I’ve read and I loved it, so of course this is the last one lol. I guess I can go back and read older ones. It was interesting to see what travel writers talked about following the Covid quarantine.
I liked all the essays except the last one by Jon Lee Anderson as he really seemed to be milking it, showing off all the places he’s been, having no shame mentioning that he once hunted elephants, and mildly scornful of the indigenous people in Alaska. I wish that wasn’t my parting impression but the rest of it was fantastic.
How to compile a book of travel writing when no one is traveling because the world is gripped with a pandemic? This book is packed with thoughtful essays about memories of travels past, reflections on the abbreviated travel that is possible in the present, and hints at what our future holds, all transformed by the pandemic in which we are living. I loved it!
I'm reading this at the end of 2021 but the essays in this collection are all from 2020 of course. Fascinating, to see what the best travel writing of a year full of racial violence and locked down pandemic is like. Some pieces I liked a lot more than others but overall it is a well put together collection. Whiny reviewers who are upset this edition of The Best American Travel Writing doesn't read like an airline magazine touting must-see tourist destinations in cities the airline flies to should just go get themselves an airline magazine, and eschew reading actual essays if the real world hurts their tender sensibilities that much.
The best magazine travel writing from 2020..... oops. Almost all are affected by the pandemic and some are about the pandemic. A few are recollections of trips which occurred prior to the pandemic. Some focus on societal and environmental issues, reflecting guest editor Padma Lakshmi's concerns. Overall not light-hearted escapism, but again.... 2020. As I expected, the very best articlesvwere published in The New Yorker and in Outside.
From providing new perspectives on things I had directly experienced (like the Pandemic) to unexpected stories about specific aspects of travel to stories that fully immersed me and embraced the unpredictable nature of travel, this book served as a wonderful introduction to travel writing.
Some were better than others though I appreciated how some of them were topics I never expected to read in this book. Though not the majority, some of the stories truly did impact me emotionally.
Regardless, I loved reading about all the experiences of others in this book (though some were harder subject material) and it definitely gave me a bunch more insight into a wide variety of places and just the general how and why of travel.
These were really great choices to share. The writers are mostly recalling trips they had taken from before the pandemic, or were writing during lockdown. It makes for an interesting mix of quarantine writings and travel long-gone-by.
So hard to write a book about travel in the second year of Covid. However imagine the richness of being on a passenger ship quarantined with tourists with Covid infections, being holed up in exotic places and not able to leave your hotel room, camping out in a cannabis forest while the wildfires in California are raging… Some one struggling to come to terms with the of death of a friend and drawing strength from others grieving….Thinking about the social construct of what it’s like to be a black woman traveling alone in the national parks. There were some incredibly bright spots in this book and then there were some that you wanted to skip through.
Not as good as past issues, but that may be expected from the pandemic. Writing about writing about travel is just not the same as travel writing. Amused to see "Out There, Nobody can Hear You Scream," which was also in the Best Nature Writing collection. Besides that one, I thought the best were, "Inside the Nightmare Voyage of the Diamond Princess," "Youtopia," and "Wanderlust."
I was worried that 2021 stories of travel or lack thereof would be depressing or boring but that wasn’t the case. Some great essays in here. Very thought provoking.
The Best American Travel Writing 2021 (The Best American Series) by Jason Wilson
This is the second travel book I’ve read in the last few months. I picked it up while searching for something new to read, using these books as a placeholder until I found something truly captivating.
I realize this review is not so much about all the stories in this book, but this is more about where those stories took me.
The stories in this collection highlight an interesting truth: a person’s choice of travel destinations says a lot about them. It reminded me of my early 20s when I lived in Florida. My neighbors would often vacation in the Bahamas, despite its climate and activities being nearly identical to what they had in their own backyard. I always wondered—why not choose something different?
The book underscores how many travelers don’t take the time to reflect on why they traveled or why they repeatedly visit the same destinations. Too often, their choices seem influenced by marketing, social conditioning, and a desire for social media recognition. Instead of seeking meaningful experiences, many simply follow the crowd, chasing likes and validation.
Sadly, social media has diluted the essence of travel for many people. Too often, I see friends' vacation posts that are little more than a string of pictures featuring drinking and eating at different bars and restaurants—without any meaningful dialogue about their experiences. It’s disheartening to see travel reduced to a “drunk-a-log” rather than an enriching adventure.
A book like Eat, Pray, Love resonates with me because it captures the essence of travel as an internal journey—one that fosters self-discovery and personal growth. That’s my kind of trip.
Now, don’t get me wrong—I understand that some vacations are about relaxation, and a simple beach getaway can be rewarding. But doing the same thing over and over? That, to me, feels like a missed opportunity.
Travel writing is at an interesting juncture as it becomes more diverse. I saw a lot of intention in these essays to "decolonize travel," but most of the white writers left it at that – words about diversity. Their own essays still felt navel gazey, or "touristy." There were multiple essays about how "New York City just isn't the same" due to the pandemic, which is a thoroughly boring topic to write about. And giving Paul Theroux a platform is always a bad idea in my mind. Thankfully his essay was just four short pages.
The content shone when ACTUAL diverse viewpoints were showcased. Most notable for me included the essay from Latria Graham about being Black in the outdoors, and the essay from Elizabeth Miller about the disappearing barrier islands of Louisiana (and by extension, the world). Another high point was the format of Kiese Makeba Laymon's "Mississippi: A Poem, in Days." These were essays that moved me and kept my attention amid too many entries that felt chopped off. In "In the City of Saints" by Sarah Khan, for example, I felt that I learned next to nothing. If only editorial guidelines would have let her expand upon her story and point. As it was, it felt like a few pages of empty words. Multiple essays in this collection felt that way.
In all, I don't feel that this represents the best of travel writing in 2021, even given the constraints of a global pandemic. I definitely feel that the curation missed the mark, and that there was too much filler. The essays that shone, however, shone brightly and demonstrated why so many people long to put themselves out of their comfort zones each year to travel. I hope to see a more solid edition in 2022.
I've read other "Best American Travel Writing" books in prior years, so I know they often contain very serious explorations of cultures, situations, the world around us and so on. But really, in a book that begins with a complete fixation on our world during the COVID-19 pandemic, I would have expected that the non-COVID pieces might have taken a lighter direction; perhaps an exploration of the good things still out there, to remind us of the joys we'll find as we get back to traveling more normally.
But no, that's not this book's direction. And while the pieces may have been written in 2021, not all of them were about things in 2021, so there was room to maneuver. After a very heavy dose of COVID-driven death, we got to learn about the deaths of some good people, deaths of animals, and a very troubling exploration of the very real problems of racism and white supremacy. All of it was good, intelligent writing, but damn, this book really depressed me. So I gave it three stars, because of the good writing, but I really didn't expect it to be quite so depressing and don't think it needed to be. There had to be better ways to balance things out.
Randomly picked up this up and really loved it. I always save online articles but I never find the patience to read things on an electronic device. I love my books and it's the only way I can read!!! I didn't love all of the articles but it was a really good mix. The first story about the Diamond Princess was so good. I knew a little bit about it because there were another one of these docked outside Hong Kong for a while, but the details in this story was captivating. The difference between the staff's experience, and someone in a windowless cabin, vs those in a suite with a balcony. I've been in one of these windowless cabins before and they are just really sad. There was a curtain, but when we opened it, there was just a wall behind. I can't imagine being stuck there in quarantine for months. I loved "Good Bread" and talked to a friend about it and now I'm reading Bill Buford's "Heat". The story about Turkish baths was really good too, I gotta give it a try one time, Kevin is always raving about them. I dream to be one of these writers... waiting for an adventure to be so epic that I can tell my story like this one day.
The Best American Travel Writing è – ma sarebbe meglio dire è stata – un’antologia annuale di letteratura di viaggio, con un’edizione augurale che risale al 2000 e un’ultima edizione nel 2021. Ho voluto leggere proprio l’edizione del 2021 in cui Padma Lakshmi ha raccolto articoli dell’anno precedente, perché cercavo una risposta alla domanda “come si può scrivere di viaggi quando non si viaggia?” E dove avrei potuto trovare una risposta migliore se non in questa edizione pandemica, un anno che ricorderemo per sempre come il più strano e angosciante della nostra vita, e che non è stato certo un buon periodo per la scrittura di viaggi? In realtà in questa antologia ho trovato molto di più. Cosa significa viaggiare? Perché le storie di viaggio ci affascinano tanto e perché le persone continuano a raccontarle? Viaggiare è una questione di esclusione come scrive l’autrice indonesiana Intan Paramaditha nel suo pezzo “On the complicated question around writing about travel” pubblicato su Literary Hub? Sono partita con una domanda in testa, e ora ne ho molte di più.
3.5 stars rounded up to 4. As I say with every volume of "Best American" that I review, the edition lives and dies by the guest editor. In my opinion, the best volumes are ones that are the most representative, in terms of gender, race, publication, etc. A good volume is also one that thinks broadly about the subject at hand, in this case, travel writing. Fortunately, Padma Lakshmi thought liberally about what constitutes travel writing and selected pieces that contributed to a well-represented volume. I also appreciate that, while this edition explored the pandemic, it was not overly fixated on it.
Some of my favorite pieces in this edition were: "To the Swimmer in the Borneo Rainforest" by Meghan Daum; "The People of Las Vegas" by Amanda Fortini, "Mississippi: A Poem in Days" by Kiese Makeba Laymon, and "Good Bread" by Bill Buford (also in this year's edition of Best Food Writing).
In this latest annual edition of The Best American Travel Writing, Padma Lakshmi has curated a diverse selection of articles and essays intended to inspire wanderlust. Overall, for me this was at best a pleasant read, just not as inspiring as I'd been expecting or hoping for. This was partly my fault for selecting the 2021 edition and it not occurring to me that the content could be quite different from previous editions with traditional travel having been suspended due to the COVID-19 pandemic. In hindsight, I should have chosen an earlier year. There was a bit more focus on travel philosophy than I would have preferred — I rather needed someone to be going somewhere interesting or exciting. "Five Oceans, Five Deeps" turned out to be my favorite story — deep ocean exploration is fascinating in an eerie, anxiety-inducing way!
OK - First book of the year and it took me a bit - busy and distracted with the pandemic back. Much of this touched the first phase - when people were restricted in travel. Unfortunately while I liked the variety of writers here, the multi-cultural viewpoint, I didn't think most of these essays were first class. The star of the collection was Theroux. Well, he would be. Just an excellent writer. And the essay about bread and wheat and France by Bill Buford was stunning and made me want to read more by him. Some others I liked touched on exploring the oceans and their depths and cruising the coastline of the Gulf - just losing ground to climate change. All a bit sad.
These travel stories were all written during 2020, the year of the great lockdown due to Covid, so travel writers do the best they can without being able to travel or having to travel under constrained circumstances.
Probably my favorite was the first essay, "Inside the Nightmare Voyage of the Diamond Princess," where everything done to contain the virus was done wrong.
I hope I am not being unfair, but I feel it is faint praise to say all the authors did the best they could under the circumstances. And you know, that is indeed quite a lot. Mu apologies for not appreciating their efforts more.
What’s interesting to me is that one particular essay is critical of the hashtag wanderlust and the concept it represents, and is followed by an essay called “Wanderlust” by a writer who seems blissfully ignorant of precisely the privilege the prior essay pointed out. Ultimately, that reminded me that travel writing inadvertently sheds light on the privilege of travel. Even in the essay about Covid ravaging the Diamond Princess cruise ship, we see the haves and have-nots. This was my first time reading the Best Travel Writing series and I don’t think I’ll be returning to it.
So I've heard some awful things about Jason Wilson, so I can't look at this series the same way. And he's on his way out, the entire series is, for some reason.
Breakout pieces:
“Reindeer at the End of the World” by Bathseba Demuth, published in Emergence Magazine “Good Bread” by Bill Buford, published in The New Yorker Mississippi: A Poem in Days Senegal's Beating Heart Wanderlust California's Weet Country is Lit To the Swimmer in the Borneo Rainforest
One of my favorite styles to read is a collection of essays, and one centered on travel is right up my alley! It was fun to read about experiences that mirror my own, as well as informative to learn from other perspectives. Given that this was published in 2021, some essays touched on how Covid affected their attitude towards travel and gave me the opportunity to reflect on my own privilege and perspective.
I love travel stories, but this collection didn't do it for me. Both prefaces and the first couple stories were very woke and depressing. These stories should inspire you to travel, but these... didn't.
Admittedly, I didn't get far into it, and it's possible there were uplifting, inspiring stories later on. However, each time I thought about picking it up to skim through for a story that sat well with me, I lost my motivation to read. Took that as a sign to not finish it.
This volume was written in the time of Covid so it was a little different from the others you found in this travel writing series. Many authors chose to address the pandemic. Others felt the need to examine the nature of travel itself or remember trips of from past.
Only about three of the stories didn’t really interest me. However, the ones that I did like were excellent. I thought them both entertaining and enlightening.