La Jolla (La-HOY-a) stretches out along Southern California's western coastline, just a brief drive north of downtown San Diego, and about 30 miles north of the Mexican border. It's famous for its small cove and its beach, surrounded by residential homes perched on its cliffs. Its fame also includes surfing, snorkeling and scuba activities. Free public parking is very limited --- mostly found on the street. There is a strong ecological movement, so it's a haven for sea lions, sea gulls, and various fishes.

There is a phrase in old Victorian slang, nantynarking, which denotes great fun. The beaches of a Florida island are blooming with the sounds of nantynarking on this warm December afternoon as I make my way around the Dickens on Centretheme festival that's rocking beneath the palm trees.

I was strapped tightly into the front of the cockpit via an elaborate seat belt that made sure I couldn't damage myself from any angle. The pilot sat behind, flying with his set of master controls. A retired Rear Admiral, a champion stunt competition biplane pilot who teaches stunt flying, and a former teacher and practitioner of dentistry. Who would have imagined that combination? Maybe Doc Holiday. Bill Finagin, the 2008 inductee into the International Aerobatic Club Hall of Fame, has won stunt competitions all around the country. Years ago, after reading something about him, I called him on a whim and he kindly offered to take me up in an incredibly beautiful machine.

Near the stream are the park's teepees and covered wagons, which make for memorable family accommodations. The teepees are recreations of Sioux Indian dwellings. They are about 20 ft-tall and feature a queen and twin bed and a couple tables. They don't come with electricity, but offer lots of natural light.

Donned out in snorkel equipment and wet suit – getting in and out of which was admittedly the most challenging aspect of the whole experience -- I entered the 200,000 gallon coral reef tank filled with large and small residents -- over 50 species of fish, sharks and eels -- into whose life I was about to intrude at the Aquarium Encounters complex in Marathon, Florida.

We visited his brother-in-law, Paul, whose vineyard is in Ledyard, Connecticut. Maugle Sierra Vineyard is named after Paul’s last name, Maugle;  and his wife’s maiden name, Sierra. Paul owns a hundred acre farm with around 20 acres of his land planted in grapes: St. Croix, St. Peppins and Marquette. He patiently harvests somewhere around eight 5’x5′ fisherman’s totes of crushed grapes in a good year (less stems and leaves of course) at harvest time.

Just when we thought breakfast couldn't get any better, we heard a gentle puffing sound in the sky. Looking up we saw a giant, colorful hot air balloon slowly rising above our bungalow like a red, blue and yellow planet. It was an awesome sight and it made our breakfast in the middle of a lush vineyard even more memorable.

So, that's their claim to fame: The Oldest Winery in the Americas. Catchy, but we had never heard of this place before. My wife, Sheri, and I are wine drinkers with 50-bottles of wine at our home. Alright, it's not a cellar, but we have a small house. We belong to a few wine clubs. We have been to many wine regions around the U.S., Baja California, and other countries such as South Africa, but what is this place that has such a significant title? One might think that a landmark like this would come up in conversation or be read in articles. Nope, not even on our radar.

When I encountered my first giant Sequoia in the Mariposa Grove, my head did not tilt back far enough to see the top. Walking around the trunk practically required a GPS. Leaving noise and civilization behind to walk among these ancient trees brought us to the famous Grizzly Giant, the grove's elder statesman, which rivals the Statue of Liberty in height and sports a branch extending outward that is larger than the trunks of most trees.

The sins of progress have barely touched one of the world's most prestigious wine regions. Once a sleepy, laid-back hideaway where the residents of Napa, Yountville, St. Helena and Calistoga smugly enjoyed the fragrant air, tended their vines, and quietly celebrated one of the planet's most attractive setting, the valley today remains the home of farmers and winemakers working the land and vines hand-in-hand. Wineries are still mostly family-owned and operated, some appearing like grand estates plucked from the French countryside.