The beer culture in Portland is like nothing I’ve ever seen. Unlike the craft-beer-is-trendy-let’s-bandwagon-aboard feelings I’ve gotten in some other cities, Portland’s breweries are run by people who deeply give a shit. The taprooms feel experimental in the best way, but hold on to their west coast chill. They’re friendly, they’re warm, they don’t take themselves too seriously. Get outside of the city center, try beers you normally wouldn’t, make new friends. Cheers, buckaroos.

Key West will forever be one of my favorite places on earth. The island city is a strange-but-wonderful weirdo tangle of the hippy tropics and the old south. Beautiful victorian homes tucked between palm trees, shoeless locals, and booze-filled tourists unexpectedly find a way to flow together. Key West is far from tame, but the hospitality is warm and welcoming, albeit a little wild. Your survival kit should include a pack of thank you notes and a bottle of Pedialyte.