Andrew Evans is National Geographic's digital nomad--always traveling and always wired. Share in the adventure as he explores great destinations around the globe. Interact online in the comments and on Twitter: @WheresAndrew.

It’s summer in Washington and I’m very glad to be home. I do love to travel and that will never change, but I also love waking up in my own time zone and enjoying a meal without juggling my phone and fork. I hope you understand. It’s impossibly hard to step away from a dream…

“Taylor Swift ate 650 cupcakes?” I asked, incredulous. “No!” laughed the woman at the bakery, “She bought 650 cupcakes and then sent them around to all the radio stations that played her music.” “That’s a whole lotta cupcakes.” “It was. But I think it was a nice way for her to say, ‘Thank You.’ They…

Plants get hungry, too. Sometimes it just gets really hot down here in Georgia and if there isn’t enough food in the house, the White Pitcher Plant (Sarracenia leucophylla) lures unsuspecting insect guests into its backyard pool and shoves them in, drowning them and then digesting them in slow motion. Nature can be cruel, but…

The shark bumped me before I’d even put on my fins. “Hello there!” I gurgled into my regulator, then fitted the rest of my gear and dropped below the surface and down to the sandy bottom of the massive blue tank. Georgia Aquarium’s Ocean Voyager exhibit is unfathomably large—the size of a football field, ranging…

Alabama was beautiful—growing brighter with the fading sun as I headed east to the great green home of Georgia. Like a slow-burning fire, the land changed from brown to pink to red-orange, glowing like an ember beneath the jungle that is Georgia in June, a tangle of trees and vines and growth so thick I…

I could go to church or be in a music video. Since the awesome Church Organ Karaoke was not happening at Sister Louisa’s Church of the Living Room and Ping Pong Emporium, I chose fame instead at the Apache Café. B-roll meant that nobody would actually see my face on TV. Maybe it would be…

Driving from New Orleans to Atlanta has led me through forests and swamps, through small towns and big cities, and past civil war and civil rights memorials. No question the complexity of the South is manifest in the landscape, down to the people who are buried in the tough red dirt. It’s amazing the personalities…

It’s no secret that I’ve got a serious crush on Gal Holiday and her band, the Honky Tonk Revue. I hear some pretty fabulous music all over the world, but no other singer has stolen my heart quite like Gal (Vanessa Niemann). The band rocks, the music is fresh, and her voice is like butter…

I first met Jacqueline Bishop down in Cuba, where we both found Havana reminiscent of her own hometown, New Orleans. A seasoned traveler and visual artist, Jacqueline takes her inspiration from the natural world and its wettest places, be it Bangladesh, the Amazon, or her own beloved Louisiana swamps. In search of the real “Rhythms…

No other city in America calls you to the table like New Orleans—the city lives and breathes great food and without question, the Big Easy offers my favorite destination dining in the entire US of A. Though I will be the first to rave about the oysters and po’ boys, duck sausage gumbo and the…

I like going to bars where I’m afraid of the people at the bar. And I like going to bars where my feet stick to the floor. I like ordering dinner from a lady with a skull tattoo on her ring finger who’s actually really cool, though I’m scared if I order the wrong thing…

The pigs are naked today. Andrew is a little disappointed. With superlative words and hands in the air, he attempts to paint the scene for me. “Seriously. My neighbors decorate their pigs for every holiday. Shamrocks for St. Patrick’s, costumes on Mardi Gras!” He looks back one more time to be sure, but the two…

“I think I’d like to dip my toes in the Chatahoochee River.” That’s how most of my journeys begin—a crack of the atlas, a glance at the map, and a sudden longing to reach that place on the page. Long before we smell the souk or walk on the beach, we read a name—on a…

It took me all day to drive across Los Angeles. Friends warned me about the traffic but after so many days of solitude in the dry and empty desert, I had forgotten the feel of a city. Los Angeles is a city of cars, built for cars. People are second-class bystanders to the rivers of…

In early May, the Colorado River separates Arizona from California with a painted stripe of transparent turquoise. The blue water glowed in the sun and the black pavement on the bridge sent up waves of heat that felt pleasant at first, then oppressive. I had the whole desert to cross, but honestly, all I wanted…

I’ve never met a college town I didn’t like. There’s something about all that youthful energy bubbling up through a flat grid of streets, the free-flowing music from open windows and the shiny chrome bumpers plastered with psychedelic stickers proclaiming bands or bold mottos. On any given night, humble bungalow houses transform into epic parties…

“Don’t forget Winona,” says the song, but honestly, when I drove into Winona, there wasn’t a whole lot there  to forget. I mean, I saw the sign that said “Winona” and the old iron bridge, but the rest of the town seemed more like a spacious and sleepy suburb of Flagstaff (Sorry, Winona). Had I…

It’s amazing I didn’t crush the little guy. He was such a tiny little animal—smaller than my camera and smaller than the stuffed toys they sold at Wal-Mart. Zipped up inside my sweatshirt, the puppy barely moved, though he did stick is head out for a peek of the fluorescent-lit world of late-night shoppers that…

The dust cloud followed me all the way from Oklahoma. Red-brown, like a storm on the ground, the dust rolled over my car in endless tidal waves, pushing me outside the lines on the road. Ahead of me, a pair of red brake lights glowed in the miasma, like a pair of snake eyes, warning…

I spent nearly a week traveling Route 66 in Oklahoma and I was forever amazed by all the strange and curious things I found (like a round red barn?). Though the Sooner State is only one of eight on Route 66, its attractions are plenty. These are just a few of my personal highlights:

In Oklahoma, you can measure a restaurant by the number of cowboy hats in the room. Sunday noon at Johnnie’s Grill I only counted four, each one a foot taller than anybody’s head. The families walked in after church and everyone bowed over their food, barely talking. The police were there, too—also eating, and I…

The fur coat in my hands costs $185,000. The price tag states it clearly—the coat costs the same as a three-bedroom house in this town. But then the lady with heavy pink lipstick whispers at me, her cupped hand hushing the secret that only the two of us know, “I could probably get you half-off…

I’m not sure what’s in the water in Oklahoma, but it sure makes you sing. And dance, and act, and swing a bat. It makes you witty and dashing and beloved by all—and it makes you famous. A few minutes after crossing into “Native America” on Route 66, I veered into the small town of…

If you drive the speed limit and don’t catch any lights, you can be out of Kansas in under fifteen minutes. Only 13.2 miles of Historic Route 66 cuts through the Sunflower State, like a hyphen between Missouri and Oklahoma. In fact, most travelers take I-40 and skip the state altogether—but that’s just doing it…

“I’m gonna put you in the Clark Gable room,” she said, then handed me a single key on a plastic keychain. “You mean Clark Gable slept in there?” “Yes, he did,” answered the woman behind the desk. “He had an old war friend here in Carthage, and this is where he stayed when he came…