The Best Places in the United States

A 100-foot indoor waterslide inside a hotel lobby area tends to settle any debate about where the kids want to stay tonight. This AAA Three Diamond Hilton Tapestry property sits right at the edge of Yellowstone country, with guest rooms that run to bunk bed configurations, wireless chargers, and clothing steamers. The outdoor fire pit is there for the evening, once everyone has had enough of the waterslide, which will take a while.

A mid-range hotel about five miles from Savannah's historic squares, the Courtyard keeps things low-key: many rooms open onto balconies or patios facing the pool courtyard, and there's a fire pit outside for evenings when you'd rather not drive anywhere. King rooms come with pull-out sofas, which explains the families. An onsite bistro handles breakfast and dinner, so you're not stranded if you don't feel like going out.

Fifty acres of Sonoran desert planted with thousands of cacti, succulents, and wildflowers in the middle of Phoenix. On summer Saturday nights the garden runs Flashlight Nights, a self-guided after-dark walk where night-blooming plants open and the wildlife, scorpions included, wanders freely. During the day the trails draw everyone from serious botanists to families who've already said "wow" forty times. The gift shop, no small afterthought, stocks prickly pear everything and locally made goods worth the detour.

Frank Lloyd Wright designed this 3,000-seat performing arts auditorium for Baghdad before it ended up on a college campus in Tempe, which tells you something about its scale and ambition. The circular hall sits on the ASU campus flanked by pedestrian bridges and hosts touring Broadway shows, opera, symphony, and lectures. It's a proper night-out venue, the kind where you dress up a little and feel like the evening has stakes.

The Praying Monk formation on the southeast face is the shot everyone posts, but the ridge routes above Echo Canyon are where the real character shows. Camelback is a hiking and climbing destination right in the middle of the Valley, accessible enough that you can squeeze it into a morning, challenging enough that you'll feel it the next day. The rock gets called "choss" by the purists, which just means more routes for everyone else.

The First Draft Book Bar sits inside this independent bookstore, which means you can browse for an hour, lose track of time entirely, and justify it with a glass of wine. Changing Hands stocks the full range from beach reads to gifts to knickknacks, with staff who actually know the shelves. Regular author readings, workshops, and book clubs keep the place feeling like a neighborhood institution rather than a retail transaction.

A fine natural history emporium in the Melrose District where the inventory runs from entomology specimens and coyote vertebrae to, if you have three grand lying around, a human skull, all ethically sourced. The shop also carries books, crystals, and botanicals for those who prefer their curiosities still living. The event calendar is where it gets interesting: taxidermy classes, Victorian seances, and the occasional chat with a coroner.

Baskets of polished crystals sorted by type, shelves of tarot decks, deity statuary, magickal oils, and candles fill this long-running New Age and occult shop in north Phoenix. You can order online, but the whole point is choosing your tiger's eye in person. Beyond retail, the shop runs classes on candle magic, divination, and protection spells, and offers psychic readings when you need something more bespoke than a book recommendation.

A sandstone formation in Papago Park shaped by erosion over millions of years, with a literal hole worn through it that frames the Phoenix skyline like a proscenium arch. The hike up is 0.3 miles, doable in questionable footwear, and the payoff at sunrise or sunset is the kind of thing that makes locals forget they've seen it a hundred times. The Hohokam may have used it as a calendar; now it's an Instagram backdrop, which feels like a lateral move.

An art gallery that holds an open call every two years, gets over 500 submissions, and sometimes picks exactly one artist. That's the curatorial standard at Lisa Sette Gallery, an old-school institution in the Phoenix arts scene representing a tight roster of Arizona painters, photographers, and mixed-media artists. The work tends toward the serious and the strange, in the best possible, completely non-graded sense of that phrase.

A rusted steel and glass aquatic center building that people apparently stop and stare at instead of swimming. The complex packs in a lap pool, diving well, tube slide, lazy river, and a splash pad, all framed by McDowell Mountain views and a public art installation that, yes, belongs to the pool. Non-Scottsdale residents pay a modest surcharge for the privilege of wondering why their city's public pools don't look like this.

A private nonprofit zoo spread across 125 acres, where you can pet a stingray, feed a giraffe, and ride a camel before anyone in your group agrees on what to see next. Five trails loop through over 1,300 animals, and the Red Barn Petting Zoo handles the younger crowd's demands nicely. Bikes and roller blades are welcome, which says a lot about how far you'll walk. Zoo Lights draws a faithful crowd every holiday season.

A gallery-shop in northern Phoenix where the inventory changes constantly because everything is made by hand and no two makers work the same week. Forged knives, blown-glass tumblers, ceramic oil pourers, and natural-edge cutting boards share shelf space in proportions nobody can predict. It's the kind of place where you come in for a gift and leave reconsidering your kitchen entirely.

Fabric is sold by the pound here, which tells you everything about the philosophy. SAS is a sprawling, cheerfully chaotic fabric store where cosplayers, sewists, and anyone mid-DIY spiral come to dig through bolts, scraps, and notions they didn't know they needed until this exact moment. The organization is approximate at best, but the staff can find anything, and the buttons and trims alone justify the trip.

Boomboxes stacked floor to ceiling on one wall, rows of vinyl, rap cassettes, and old issues of XXL on another, and a dance floor where breakers have been known to throw down mid-afternoon. Trill is a hip-hop shop on North 16th Street that covers all four elements under one roof: DJing, MCing, graffiti gear, and b-boy culture. Ice-T has been vocal about the love. Kids can learn to scratch here; serious diggers can lose an hour in the crates.

A local boutique home goods shop with three Valley locations, urbAna stocks the kind of stuff that makes housewarming gifts feel considered rather than grabbed at the checkout line. Arizona-themed glassware, midcentury-inspired barware, taper candles with fancy matches, and chic disposable partyware for hosts who want the aesthetic without the aftermath. The "Welcome to the Shitshow" rocks glasses are there for when the new neighbors' AC goes out in July.

The attached market selling frozen pierogi and chilled soups to go tells you everything about the vibe here. This casual Ukrainian family restaurant in Mesa treats borders as a loose suggestion, pulling in beef goulash, plov over cumin-scented rice, pork schnitzel, and thick, buttery pierogi that pair well with griddled sausage. The chicken Kiev arrives loaded with dill and herb butter. Unpretentious, generous portions, and priced like someone actually wants you to come back.

The two-level track is lit in multicolored neon, which makes the electric Superkarts feel less like a family outing and more like a fever dream you're steering. This massive indoor entertainment complex near the highway packs in go-karts, arcade games, laser tag, duckpin bowling, VR stations, and a full bar, so pacing yourself is an actual consideration. Tall guests may find the karts a snug fit, but that's part of the negotiation.

Set a budget before you walk into this curated vintage clothing shop in the Roosevelt Arts District, because the racks run from 1920s eveningwear to a 1980s purple fringe jacket and your willpower will not survive unassisted. Prices aren't thrift-store prices, but the inventory is the kind that makes you want to become a slightly more interesting version of yourself. A clearance rack in the back starts at $5, for those who want the daydream on a discount.

A sneaker resale shop on Central Avenue that also stocks Labubus, those unsettling little monster toys currently colonizing every shelf on social media. Archive AZ is a buy-sell-trade hub for high-end kicks, mostly Nike-heavy, with rare past releases alongside current drops. The storefront is easy to walk past, which somehow feels right for a place that lets the inventory do the talking.

A tiny paperback copy of "Fifty Shades of Grey" sitting next to a miniature bag of Lay's barbecue chips pretty much sets the tone. Auntie Em's is a dollhouse supply and curiosity shop in Historic Downtown Glendale with thousands of small-scale items, from hand-painted furniture to tiger-skin rugs. The other half of the store belongs to retro toys: pedal cars, vintage Barbies, model trains. No website, so you just have to show up.

The circuit grading system here is the tell: instead of chasing pitch ratings, you work a color-coded route until the movement clicks, which turns a climbing gym visit into something closer to a puzzle session. The walls are rope- and harness-free, the floors are padded, and the whole warehouse-scale space runs yoga and fitness classes most days of the week. There's a coffee kiosk, a dog-friendly courtyard, and enough community events that regulars treat it like a neighborhood club.

A gift shop in Phoenix's Melrose District where butterfly claw clips and gravestone stickers reading "DIDN'T DRINK ENOUGH WATER" share shelf space with gold jewelry and desert-themed graphic tees. Bunky Boutique stocks men's and women's apparel, quirky cards, candles, and accessories with enough rotating inventory that regulars leave with something they didn't know existed last month, usually for a friend who absolutely needs it.

Callaghan Vineyards sits in the Sonoita/Elgin wine country, where Mediterranean grapes like malvasia bianca quietly thrive in the Arizona desert as if they never got the memo that this wasn't southern France. An old-school family winery with deep roots in the state, it produces estate whites that work equally well poolside or alongside a meal. Kent Callaghan is the most tenured winemaker in Arizona, which counts for something out here in the high grasslands.

The tiered stadium seating along the back wall means you never spend a show craning around someone's hat, which is a small miracle for a mid-size Phoenix music venue. Crescent Ballroom books a steady diet of indie, art rock, and folk acts, with a candlelit bar and lounge up front serving tacos and cocktails alongside free sets from local musicians on quieter nights.

A 50-foot spiral tower at the entrance to a Goodyear neighborhood, designed by a local astronomer to function as both a lookout and a quiet prompt to feel small in a good way. Climb the staircase for views of the Estrella Mountains, then stay for sunset, when tiny lights embedded in the exterior begin to glow. It closes at 8:15 p.m. sharp, which is the desert's way of telling you not to linger past the point of wonder.

An artist-run collective on Roosevelt Row, Eye Lounge has been the gravitational center of Phoenix's First Fridays artwalk for years, which is either a sign of quality or a sign that everyone else gave up. Contemporary exhibitions rotate through, the murals outside change with the shows inside, and the crowd on a First Friday runs heavy on the local artists whose work might be on the walls next month.

Portraits of the late Queen and Buckingham Palace ephemera cover every surface, which tells you exactly what kind of pub this is. Footy on the TVs, jerseys and flags around the bar, bangers and mash from the kitchen, and a tap list that runs well past Guinness. The native-English owner has a story involving Bar Rescue's Jon Taffer that he'll gladly share on the patio, in language the royals would find bracing.

Duckpin bowling, axe throwing, and a copper frog you try to land coins into: Lane Park is an adult games hall in Old Town Scottsdale where the activity rotates with the season, shuffleboard in summer and curling when it cools down. Craft cocktails and pizzas keep things going between rounds. It reads like someone asked what a bar would look like if it took the games as seriously as the drinks.

A bulletin board by the register plastered with fliers for local art classes and studio events is a good sign you've found the right art supply store. Jerry's Artarama in Tempe is a sprawling shop stocked with canvases, every conceivable brush and paint, custom framing, and art books, with sales deep enough that serious artists plan trips around them. Local artwork lines the walls, and browsing counts as half the visit.

A medical-grade centrifuge sits behind the bar at this East Walnut Hills cocktail spot, which tells you something about the ambition level before you've ordered. The menu changes twice a year and follows the adventures of a small pigeon, which sounds precious until you're drinking something clarified by milk-wash or cryo-concentrated into a flavor you can't quite name. The kind of place where the science is real and the whimsy is, somehow, also real.

The I-10 freeway runs underneath it, so the park above feels like a magic trick: grass, dog runs, a playground, and a Japanese Friendship Garden built with Phoenix's sister city of Himeji, all floating over the highway in the middle of downtown. It sits right on the edge of Roosevelt Row, so a morning walk can turn into a long afternoon without much planning required. One of the few spots in central Phoenix where pedestrians have the obvious upper hand.

A packed-dirt trail running about 2.5 miles along Central Avenue, shaded by ash and olive trees with some of Phoenix's finest historic homes lined up alongside it. The path was laid out for Orangewood residents who got around on horseback, which feels improbable now that it's full of joggers, dog walkers, and people nursing coffee from the Uptown Farmers Market. In a city that runs hot and hard, the shade here is something to plan around.

A museum with over 15,000 instruments drawn from nearly every country on earth, where the displays sense your approach and pipe the corresponding music through wireless headphones. It sounds gimmicky and it works beautifully. The Artist Gallery leans into celebrity worship without apology, and larger nations get subsections drilling into folk and tribal traditions. The cafe handles global food at reasonable prices, which is not a given for a museum this size.

Over 17,000 works spread across 285,000 square feet put this art museum firmly in the "clear your afternoon" category. The collection runs from American and European classics to Latin American, Asian, and contemporary work, plus a fashion design wing that earns its place on the same floor. A dedicated kids' gallery keeps the family from splitting up at the entrance. Free admission on Wednesday evenings and the first Friday of each month.

A 1,200-foot climb packed into just over a mile, Piestewa Peak sits in the middle of the Phoenix metro and functions as the city's default answer when someone asks where to hike. The Summit Trail is short and steep, with the final stretch earning its reputation near the top, where the reward is a full 360-degree sweep of the Valley. Prefer flat ground? The Freedom Trail loops the base for nearly four miles of desert flora at a friendlier pace.

The showroom occupies a restored 1954 Ralph Haver building, which feels less like a coincidence and more like the whole point. Red Modern Furniture deals in authentic midcentury pieces, no reproductions, so you'll find Eames, Knoll, and Saarinen chairs alongside Murano glass lamps and one-of-a-kind finds. Price tags are serious, but browsing is free, and the website even archives sold pieces for the committed window-shopper.

Thirty-two soundproofed, air-conditioned lanes with touch-screen targets that rotate 360 degrees give this indoor shooting range a distinctly modern feel, even if the members-only lounge looks like a hunting lodge from another century. No membership is required to rent from one of the largest firearm selections in the state, and safety classes run from beginner family sessions to holster-draw practice. The Cosmic Shooting night, with blacklights and color-changing ammo, is either inspired or unhinged, possibly both.