The Best Places in the United States

Ten acres, four greenhouses, imported pottery, and occasionally a yoga class held among the succulents. Plant Stand of Arizona is a nursery that runs a little wild with its square footage, stocking everything from hardy desert plants to indoor exotics to the kind of statement specimen that needs its own corner of the room. It draws beginners hunting for something to not kill and collectors who already know what they want and just need fifty of them.

Mini-golf gets the nightlife treatment at this high-energy entertainment venue inside Scottsdale Quarter. Ball-tracking sensors handle the scoring so you can focus on navigating four illuminated nine-hole courses, each with inventive obstacles loosely themed around gems. Bars on both floors and DJ sets on weekends keep things moving, and yes, you can carry a cocktail through the whole round, though the pinball-style holes may test that commitment.

The gleaming neon martini sign outside has been pulling people off East Colfax since the bar was basically a secret, back when "mixed" was code for something. Now it's out and proud, a classic dive bar with cheap drinks, a pleasantly deteriorating interior, and the kind of regulars who keep it honest. If you're looking for polish, Colfax has other options.

Seven lakes filled with reclaimed water sit inside a 110-acre desert preserve in Gilbert, and that unlikely combination pulls in birds you'd never expect this far from a coast: egrets, avocets, herons, stilts, and peregrine falcons passing through on migration. Doves and quail show up too, but they're almost beside the point. Veteran birders patrol the paths with telescope lenses, and they tend to be generous with tips if you're just starting out.

A mile of Roosevelt Street running between Seventh Avenue and Seventh Street, this walkable arts corridor threads past galleries, historic bungalows, live music venues, and enough bars and restaurants to justify multiple laps. It reads differently depending on the night, but the through line is a Phoenix that feels genuinely patched together rather than planned. Best experienced in the cooler months, when the weather finally cooperates with the city's ambitions.

The 12 tap handles are mounted in a repurposed fire truck behind the bar, which tells you everything you need to know about the vibe. Roosters is a country bar that's been an East Valley institution forever, with a red-and-black checkered dance floor, pool tables, live music most nights, open mics, and karaoke. A second stage and beer tubs sit out on the smoking patio. Strangers introduce you to their friends before the first round is done.

A pirate-themed dive bar in Sunnyslope that opens at 6 a.m., which should tell you most of what you need to know. Drink specials are listed on the wall under "Grogs," free pool and shuffleboard tournaments fill the back, and biscuits and gravy come with your first drink if you show up early enough to need them. Burgers and corn dogs handle the rest. The merch, featuring a peg-legged mascot, is genuinely good.

A historic park in Glendale where peacocks graze under fruit trees while doves call from tall palms overhead. The grounds are listed on the National Register of Historic Places, and the old ranch buildings make a handsome backdrop for a walk through the gardens. There are playgrounds and sports fields on the other side if you need a reason to bring kids. The peacocks, though, do most of the convincing on their own.

Wild horses standing in the shallows while the skyline sits just out of frame is the image that makes the Salt River stretch near Phoenix worth knowing about. Drop one car at Phon D Sutton, put in at Water Users, and you have a mellow half-day float with a few Class I bumps at the Pinball section. Bighorn sheep, otters, and the famously unbothered feral horses tend to do most of the entertaining. You'll need a Tonto Pass for the parking lots.

The fuzzy handcuffs are practically the greeting cards section here. Smokin' Lingerie is an adult shop where the inventory goes well past anything you'd find at Target, stocking a deep run of BDSM gear, kink equipment, and smoking supplies for good measure. The Phoenix New Times named it the best place to buy BDSM gear in the Valley, which tracks given the sheer ambition of the catalog. Come with a clear sense of what you're after, or at least a tolerance for surprises.

Shrek raves, all-trans oil wrestling, and Christmas burlesque in July: the weekly calendar at this LGBTQ bar on 7th Avenue reads like a dare. The dance floor splits the difference between intimate and actually dancing, surrounded by decor that suggests Dracula discovered neon. The back patio exists for the moment you want to learn someone's name. Karaoke, drag brunch, and gothed-out Wednesday nights fill in the gaps.

Every night in Mesa, a neon woman dives forever into a pool that isn't there, which is either poetic or just very Phoenix. The Starlite Motel's "Diving Lady" sign is a midcentury relic that got knocked out by a storm and came back after a community-funded restoration effort that cost six figures. She glows in the way old neon does, warm and slightly buzzing, the kind of thing worth slowing the car down for.

The Arizona Cardinals call it home, but State Farm Stadium earns its keep on the concert calendar. The retractable-roof arena seats 64,000, which means when a stadium tour rolls into the Phoenix metro, the spectacle scales accordingly. The Rolling Stones, Metallica, and U2 have each played it twice, and Taylor Swift launched the Eras tour here. Big room, big sound, big crowds dressed accordingly.

A ski-lift chair salvaged from Keystone sits in the front of this sprawling Denver sports bar, which tells you everything about the vibe: proudly, unironically Colorado. Two full bars pour local taps, a stage hosts live music, and somewhere in the back there's a miniature bowling alley that shouldn't exist but does. The Slopper, a Pueblo green chile sandwich situation, is the menu's main argument. Westword named it Denver's best bar for watching games in 2023.

A showroom full of classic cars and trucks where you can walk the floor without anyone pressuring you to buy. Streetside Classics is a national dealer specializing in vintage American iron, and the Mesa location keeps a deep inventory, the kind where a '53 Buick and a '72 Bronco might be neighbors. Even if dropping five figures on a Road Runner isn't the plan, an afternoon here passes easily, half browsing, half quietly doing the math.

Frank Lloyd Wright built Taliesin West as his own desert home and studio, and a UNESCO World Heritage Site is about as far as you can get from a velvet-rope museum. Docent-led walking tours cover the office, a private home theater, and a collection of Asian art, with the McDowell Mountains as the backdrop. Evening tours run too, if the afternoon heat is uninviting. Workshops and rotating exhibitions go deeper into Wright's philosophy for the genuinely curious.

Film still on the shelves is the first clue that this isn't a big-box camera department pretending to care. Tempe Camera is an old-school camera shop and repair house where the staff are all photographers, happy to talk you through a lens decision without making you feel like a tourist. Downstairs handles repairs, sensor cleanings, and gear rentals. They also run workshops if you're still figuring out what half the buttons do.

The Cafe at Thistle Farms is a daytime counter-service cafe on Charlotte Pike, run by a nonprofit that employs women survivors of trafficking, addiction, and prostitution, so the sandwich arrives with a mission statement attached. A teacup chandelier hangs overhead, and the menu leans toward BLTs, breakfast bowls, and a case of cakes. Nashville Scene named it Best Cafe in its 2023 Best of Nashville, if that helps you decide on lunch.

Tucked under the historic Daniels & Fisher Clock Tower, this variety nightclub runs the full spectrum from burlesque and drag to stand-up and live music, sometimes in the same week. The European-style room is dim and intimate enough for a date, loud and loose enough for a bachelorette party, which about covers the range of people you'll find there. A full bar keeps things moving. Shows run Wednesday through Saturday.

The Duce is part-bar, part-gym, part-vintage trailer diner, part-dance hall, which sounds like a fever dream but somehow holds together. You can swing dance, throw a punch in the boxing area, browse vintage goods, and still find time for a pot pie and an old-school cocktail, all under one roof. Ping-pong and shuffleboard are there if you need to justify the drinks as cardio. Phoenix has plenty of bars, but few with this particular range of excuses to stay.

A bar that closes at ten, and that's the whole point. The Joy Lush Club is a low-key neighborhood wine and beer bar with 16 taps, a serious wine list, live music, and food trucks rotating through. You can even take a bottle home on your way out. It draws the kind of crowd that wants a proper drink without the performance of a late night. Think comfortable chairs, zero pretension, and somewhere to be by morning.

Sticky floors, cheap drinks, and a back patio where beer pong and giant Jenga coexist peacefully: Monkey Bar is a no-frills dive that has held its ground in Denver's Santa Fe art district as everything around it got progressively fancier. Darts, pool, ping-pong, foosball, N64, and four-person Pac-Man are all free to play, first-come basis. Dogs are welcome, and the house move when someone loses is apparently a round of pickle shots.

No signage in the lobby, no floor indicator in the elevator, just the sound of a crowd spilling out when the fifth-floor doors open. The Pub at Thunderbird is a full bar on a Thunderbird School of Global Management campus, open to the public on weekdays, with alumni spirits behind the bar, a rooftop with downtown Phoenix views, and Thursday nights where students and professors share a table like it's the most normal thing in the world.

A hanging mobile about Phoenix's infamous trunk murderess sets the tone before you've even ordered a drink. Valley Bar is a basement dive, reached through an alley off Central Avenue that will make you question your life choices right up until you hit the stairs and descend into genuinely good energy. Cheap beers, cocktails named after Arizona politicians, skeeball, shuffleboard, and live DJs on weekends round out a room that has no interest in taking itself seriously.

A dachshund-shaped iron toilet paper holder is the kind of thing that ends up in somebody's bathroom forever, and it came from a strip mall next to a Kohl's in Ahwatukee. Vintageous is a vintage furniture and decor shop with a well-curated rotation of midcentury modern pieces, old denim, and oddball gifts, all spread across a roomy, easy-to-navigate floor rather than the usual tchotchke labyrinth.

A 190-foot-long mural running along Adams Street between First and Second, painted by local artist Kayla Newnam. Gila monsters, saguaros, and mountain ranges roll across the wall in bold desert colors under a painted sunset that takes up most of the sky. Newnam opened two community paint days during the process, so a fair number of Phoenicians had a hand in it. The Phoenix New Times named it Best Mural in 2023.

A half-day on the Salt River for the price of a decent lunch is the pitch at WildHorse Paddleboards, a Mesa outfit that rents boards by the half or full day. The owner's enthusiasm for Arizona's waterways is the kind that turns a transaction into an orientation, so first-timers leave knowing more than which end to stand on. A solid way to spend a Sunday without committing to garage storage.

A 9,000-square-foot taproom with a basketball court tends to set expectations, and Wonderland Brewing's beer menu swings just as wide, running from Belgian-style and barrel-aged English ales to high-IBU IPAs and wild sours. The Broomfield brewery keeps a permanent food truck on-site, so there's no rush to leave, which is convenient given that there's also ping-pong. A good place to spend a longer afternoon than you planned.

Xico has been anchoring Latino and Indigenous arts in downtown Phoenix since the mid-seventies, and it shows in the best way. This nonprofit gallery and arts hub runs the full range: rotating exhibitions, artist talks, and classes that draw a crowd well beyond the First Friday tourists. Shows skew toward Latina and Indigenous voices, and the programming actually changes, so there's a reason to come back.

The smoked meatloaf plate, with house-ground beef, gravy, mashed potatoes, and mac and cheese, tells you everything about what this downtown Dallas dive bar is up to. Hockey on the TVs, whiskey and craft beer behind the bar, and a menu that takes bar food more seriously than its gritty room suggests it will. The fancy bologna sandwich is a standing option; the pork tenderloin shows up Friday through Sunday for those who plan ahead.

Arcade games and sticker vending machines frame the room at this slice joint in the Beacon Hill area, where the team behind Fremont's Lupo traded sourdough pies for New York-style foldable slices. The crust is the work of serious dough people, and the housemade ice cream could survive a white-tablecloth setting but seems happier alongside paper plates and plastic tumblers. Salads, too, punch above the room's decor.

Arcade games and sticker vending machines line the walls of this East Coast-style slice joint in Olde Burien, which is exactly the vibe the team behind Fremont's Lupo was going for. The crust is the work of dough obsessives, foldable and crisp in the New York tradition. Side salads and housemade ice cream are better than the paper plates and plastic tumblers would suggest, but nobody seems to mind.

Pork belly sisig arrives still sizzling on a cast-iron plate, which tells you most of what you need to know about the room. This Filipino restaurant near the Beacon Hill light rail grew out of a food truck the family started after redevelopment shuttered their first spot, and the new stationary digs feel more like a return than a debut. The menu runs to lumpia, bistec, and adobo, with flavors on the gentler, pull-you-in end of the spectrum.

An Italian cafe tucked inside a streetwear and sneaker shop, which is either a strange choice or the most Pioneer Square thing imaginable. Counter-service focaccia sandwiches and housemade pasta land in that comfortable zone between careful and fussy, and happy hour swings toward spritzes and antipasti without much ceremony. The kind of spot that handles a pre-game and a leisurely lunch date with equal ease.

The patio hangs so close to Lake Washington you could lose a chip in it. El Encanto is an upscale Mexican restaurant where the room is very white, the crowd is very photogenic, and the chef quietly runs circles around the decor. The chile en nogada, made daily with help from his mom, is the kind of detail that earns its reputation. The cocktail list takes the tequila selection seriously, which helps when the selfie-to-taco ratio tips the wrong way.

Charcoal grills and skewers of chicken thighs, beef tongue, and mochi wrapped in bacon define this Wallingford yakitori bar. Empty skewers go into containers shaped like Super Mario pipes, which tells you everything about the room's energy. Pressed sushi and small plates keep the highballs coming. On the way out, the Indigo Cow soft-serve window near the entrance turns milk from Hokkaido cows into a rich, swirly send-off.

The alleyway entrance in Madison Park sets the tone: this is an omakase counter that knows it doesn't need to try too hard. Yasutaka Suzuki, a former partner at the beloved Sushi Kashiba, adjusts rice temperatures fish by fish and rotates the menu with microseasons. He runs a precise, focused kitchen, but in front of diners he's warm and prone to laughing. The presidential-themed bathroom is its own subplot.