Nomadic Spirit is a weekly newsletter for travelers who care as much about the why as the where.
In this issue
This week’s Dispatch asks whether you still need a travel advisor now that AI can plan almost anything. Two advisors answer, including one who plans luxury trips and says AI will do the job on an ordinary one. In A Chosen Place, we go to Puebla, Mexico, the city most travelers visit on a day trip from the capital, where a market stall that has been making cemitas for 37 years just landed in the Michelin Guide. In The Journey, Joanne McAuley drives 135 kilometers of Patagonian gravel to see a colony of king penguins thousands of miles from where they belong, and spends the next morning watching the needle fall to empty. And Further Afield has Rick Steves on what not to hand to AI, a Talavera workshop whose painters use brushes made from cat hair, and Paul Theroux on what makes a trip worth writing about.

The Dispatch
Where Travel and Life Intersect
Do You Still Need a Travel Advisor?
AI can help plan almost any trip now. Here’s when a human still matters.

What an advisor sells now is judgment, not information.
A friend and Nomadic Spirit reader sent me a question a few weeks ago.
“We haven’t used a travel agent recently, but lots of our friends do. Are we missing something?”
He and his wife are experienced travelers. They know how to research a destination, choose a hotel, and plan a trip. And now they have an AI research assistant available to help day and night. So why hire a person to do it?
I asked two travel advisors: one who runs a Chicago luxury travel agency founded in 1945, and one who works independently. Here is what they told me about when an advisor is worth it, and what to ask before you hire one.
What are you paying for?
An agent used to be worth hiring for information: which hotels were reliable, how to connect complicated flights, which tour operator to call. Much of that is now a search away. What a great advisor offers today is different. She may have stayed at the hotel and know which rooms are quieter. She may know the guide in Lisbon who is terrific with history but wrong for teenagers. She has relationships with people who can help when something goes wrong.
And, over time, she may know you.
AI can learn that you prefer small hotels, walkable neighborhoods, and restaurants without tasting menus. A person who has planned six trips for you may know something different: when to ignore those preferences. “I know that’s what you usually like, but trust me on this one” may be a surprisingly durable business model.
Shawn Kirschenman, an independent advisor who runs Travel Conductors, put it this way: “There’s a big difference between seeing a hotel has a 4.8 rating from a bunch of people you don’t know online and knowing how it feels to wake up there.”
The advisors have AI, too
A 2025 Travel Weekly industry survey found that 59 percent of advisors had used generative AI tools, up from 41 percent the year before. The comparison now is you with AI against an advisor with AI, plus years of experience, supplier relationships, and people on the ground.
In a survey this spring of Americans who use AI, commissioned by ALG Vacations, which sells trips through advisors, Baby Boomers asked whom they would trust with final vacation decisions chose an advisor over AI, 59 percent to 15.
Kirschenman said he uses AI every day, mostly for work clients never see, like summarizing correspondence and checking that every piece of a trip lines up before departure. He’s much more careful about letting it become “the final authority” on recommendations. “Information is becoming almost free,” he said, “which makes judgment and taste even more valuable.”
When does an advisor make the trip better?
If I’m spending six days in Paris, I enjoy figuring it out. Research is part of the trip, and I don’t want someone else deciding where I should eat or what I should do Tuesday afternoon.
But make the trip a safari in Botswana, three generations going to Japan, a Galápagos expedition, or a complicated month across several countries, and the calculation changes. At that point the useful question is simply whether an advisor can make this trip better.
Tim Krenzien, president of Paul Klein Travel, was more candid about this than I expected from someone who plans high-end trips for a living. For everyday travel, he said, AI and some hands-on research of your own “can provide a perfectly good outcome,” and an advisor may not add much.
He thinks an advisor earns a place at the upper end: better rooms, breakfast included at top hotels, airport transfers arranged through the hotel, and private guides instead of a seat on a group tour. His clients “travel as a lifestyle,” he said. They expect a certain standard every time, and they aren’t looking to take chances on a hotel or a guide nobody has vetted.
Kirschenman would draw the line a little differently. Some of his best clients arrive with their own research. “A client might bring me ten ideas. Maybe three are fantastic, two are in the wrong place, one looks much better online than it does in person, and four simply don’t fit the rhythm of the trip.”
If you’re looking for one, the questions have changed too. Where have you traveled yourself, and what do you specialize in? How do you get paid? Will you work with someone who wants to stay involved in the planning, and what happens when something goes wrong? I’d add one more: how do you use AI?
My friend wanted to know whether he and his wife were missing something. On most of their trips, probably not. On a safari, or a month across several countries, they might be.
The advisors worth paying for will be the ones who know you well enough to occasionally tell you you’re wrong.
by Paul M. Rand, founder and editor of Nomadic Spirit

A Chosen Place
Destinations worth traveling to and understanding once you arrive

Santa María Tonantzintla, ten minutes west of Puebla in Cholula.
Puebla, Mexico
Calling it the next Oaxaca undersells this city
If you have traveled Mexico beyond the beaches, you probably know the places on either side of Puebla better than Puebla itself. It is the day tour that has you back in Mexico City by dinner, and it is the city the road to Oaxaca runs through.
Puebla is worth not only a much longer visit but a trip in itself. Some recent travel guides have started calling it the next Oaxaca. UNESCO listed the old center in 1987, and what it singled out was the decoration: 2,619 cataloged buildings across 391 blocks, many of them faced in brick, tile and white stucco relief. The things worth seeing are close together, and some of the best hotels are inside restored colonial houses.
The stall in La Acocota
Michelin sent inspectors to Puebla for the first time this year. Fourteen places made the 2026 guide, eight of them Bib Gourmands, the category for good food at a fair price. One of the eight is a stall inside the Mercado La Acocota, where María de la Luz Pérez Rocha and her husband, Rodrigo Conde Serrano, have been making cemitas for more than 37 years. A cemita is a sesame roll split and filled with milanesa, shredded quesillo, avocado, and pápalo (like cilantro), and it is what the city eats for lunch.
Mole poblano and chiles en nogada are the famous dishes. Everyday foods include cemitas, chalupas, and molotes. Tacos árabes originated with Middle Eastern immigrants who arrived in the early twentieth century, bringing the vertical spit, which locals adapted and later used to make tacos al pastor.
The mark on the base
The famous Talavera ceramic covers domes and house fronts throughout the center. The clay comes from the valley, and potters make the pieces using techniques dating to the colonial period. The denominación de origen, the same sort of protection that limits what may be called Champagne or tequila, recognizes six colors, all ground from minerals: blue, yellow, green, orange, black, and a pale violet. A certified piece is left unglazed on the base, where the workshop’s mark, the painter’s initials, and the city are inscribed. It is always interesting to turn a piece over.
Only eight workshops hold the certification. Uriarte, certified and in business since 1824, runs tours most days.
Across from the cathedral, the Biblioteca Palafoxiana turned 380 this month. It holds more than 45,000 volumes on the carved wooden shelving lining the room. Work on the Capilla del Rosario, inside the Templo de Santo Domingo, began in 1650 and finished in 1690, with gilded stucco covering the walls and vaults, and it was called the eighth wonder of the New World.
The hill at Cholula
Cholula, ten minutes west and now effectively a suburb, is centuries older than Puebla. Its Great Pyramid holds 4.45 million cubic meters, nearly twice the volume of the Great Pyramid of Giza. Earth and grass have made the site look like a hill with a church on top. On a clear morning, Popocatépetl can be seen behind it, 45 kilometers away. The volcano erupted again in December 1994, after about fifty years of quiet, and has remained active ever since.
A few minutes away is the church that makes the trip worth taking. Local artisans did the interior at Santa María Tonantzintla, working across generations, and they filled it with angels with dark skin, cherubs wearing feathers in their hair, ears of corn, papayas, and chiles worked into the plaster.
Buses from Mexico City run throughout the day and take about two hours, and Puebla has its own airport half an hour from the center, with nonstop flights from Houston, Los Angeles, and Newark, and Chicago added on December 1.

We want to hear from you
Two ways to be in Nomadic Spirit
Joanne’s piece this week (below) is a reader submission. The Journey is open to readers who want to write about a trip that mattered. Personal, specific, in your own voice. Length is flexible. We edit lightly and leave your voice intact.
Fork First: One dish, one place, one reason to go. 200 to 300 words. The test: would you go back for this dish? Would you tell everyone heading to that city to find it? If yes, write it up.
If you are interested in sharing your story with our 21,000+ readers, please write us at [email protected], and we’ll send along submission guidelines.
We read everything that comes in.

The Journey — Voices of the Nomadic Spirit
Stories from travelers changed by where they went.

King penguins at the colony in Tierra del Fuego, Chile. Photograph by Joanne McAuley.
The Highway at the End of the World
By Joanne McAuley
“King Penguins?” I asked again, shaking my head in disbelief.
“Is it safe to drive there?” I’m getting excited knowing that I’ll see a unique Colony of my favourite birds, nesting thousands of miles from home. I love stumbling on surprises when I travel, and this day is promising to be unbelievable.
“Si, Si,” the travel agent assured me. “This is Patagonia; everywhere is safe, especially on the highway at the end of the world.” She draws a big red circle on the brochure. “The Porvenir ferry takes you to the 35km gravel road that ends at the Park. After enjoying the Colony, you circle North to the ferry back to Highway 40.”
With almost a full tank of gas, I purchase water, picnic treats and head off.
Well, the promised 35km of gravel was a good 135kms of agony. Recent grading left a huge pile of soft gravel smack down the middle of my side. So I had two choices, scrape the underside of the rental car, or drive up the wrong side of the road and carefully lump back over the hump if a car approached, praying my wheels wouldn’t slide into the soft ditch.
Three hours later, exhausted, I arrive at a weatherworn trailer with a hand painted sign advertising “El Parke Del Penguines Rea.”
I had the Park all to myself. For two hours I observed and photographed the penguins, thrilled to capture a video of an adorable adult and two fluffy chicks peeking out from under dad’s feet. (That’s how the eggs and babies are kept warm, nestled under a flap of skin over the parents’ feet.)
Heading north across the Island, I was overjoyed that the main road was partially paved. The scenery was beautiful. Wind swept, grassy steppes and rolling hills overlooked the ocean. I was alone in this wilderness, unless you count an impaled guanaco (looks a bit like a small deer) on a lonely pole.
Approaching the ferry, I joined a long lineup of cars. Strong winds made the usual 20-minute crossing a good hour. I settled in knowing it would be a long wait. Noticing the gas tank was now under half, I planned to fill up as soon as I reached the main highway.
Finally, I’m on the ferry. It’s 11:30 pm, cold, dark, and windy. The End Of The World Highway feels like I am, indeed, at the end of the world. Of course there are no gas stations open at this hour.
I decide to wait for daylight and curl up on the back seat, the rocking motion from the strong wind lulling me to sleep. I’m relaxed, knowing that after I fill up, it’s only three hours to my luxury pre-booked hotel.
Nope. Navigating the main highway, with zero gas stations, I watched the gas indicator slowly kiss empty.
Ahead was a Police check. The car coughed as I rolled to a stop. I smiled at the young officer and explained my situation, pointing to the glowing yellow light on the dash, indicating I was truly empty.
“No gas here,” was his response as he pointed down the highway. “It’s all downhill. Just a few Kilometers.”
OMG! He was right! I rolled empty into the gas station and burst into tears, much to the confusion of the young attendant, wondering why this senior lady was crying over getting gas.
The impaled Guanaco on that pole? I’m convinced it was placed there by a frustrated tourist looking for a gas station.
Joanne McAuley is a Canadian traveller from Guelph, Ontario, always looking for a new adventure. She writes at solotravelshortstories.ca.

Further Afield
Reading worth your time.
When Is a Travel Advisor Actually Worth It?
AARP
A useful look at when an advisor adds something you probably cannot do as well yourself, and when you may not need one. The travelers quoted still enjoy planning their own trips but brought in a China specialist when the language and the country were unfamiliar.
Can AI Make Travel Advisors More Valuable?
Travel Weekly
The editor’s introduction to Travel Weekly’s annual advisor survey argues that agentic AI, the kind that shops on your behalf, may work in favor of human advisors, provided they are true specialists with connections the software cannot reach. Just under half of the advisors surveyed want to use AI to build custom itineraries, and 63 percent have reservations about its accuracy and its lack of a personal touch.
AI for Trip Planning? Tread with Caution
Rick Steves’ Europe
Steves draws a line between low-stakes tasks worth handing to AI, like packing and currency, and the decisions that can wreck a trip. His team also asked ChatGPT to write an article about Cádiz and got a flamenco club recommended in the wrong neighborhood, along with the phrase “flamenco pulses quietly.”
Inside Puebla’s 200-Year-Old Talavera Workshop
Roamer
Uriarte has been making Talavera on the same site since 1824. The piece follows the four-month process from raw clay to finished tile, including the part where painters work freehand with no sketching, using brushes made from cat hair.
Paul Theroux on What Makes a Journey Worth Writing About
Luxury Travel Magazine
With True North: On the Road in Canada published on September 22, Theroux offers ten observations drawn from more than fifty books and a lifetime on the road. Curiosity before itinerary, people over places, and the willingness to find out your first assumptions were wrong.

Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?
T. S. Eliot, “Choruses from ‘The Rock’” (1934)

