Already a best-selling addition to the series, this year’s Best American Travel Writing is a far-flung collection chosen by travel writer extraordinaire Paul Theroux, who has selected pieces about “the spell in the wilderness, the letter home from foreign parts, the dangerous adventure, the sentimental journey, the exposé, the shocking revelation, the eyewitness report, the ordeal, the quest . . . Travel is an attitude, a state of mind.” Theroux’s most recent novel is Hotel Honolulu. JASON WILSON,  series editor, is the author of Godforsaken Grapes, Boozehound, and The Cider Revival. He is the creator of the newsletter and podcast Everyday Drinking. Wilson has been the series editor of The Best American Travel Writing since its inception in 2000. His work can be found at jasonwilson.com. Paul Theroux  is the author of many highly acclaimed books. His novels include  Burma Sahib, The Bad Angel Brothers, The Lower River, Jungle Lovers,  and  The Mosquito Coast , and his renowned travel books include  Ghost Train to the Eastern Star, On the Plain of Snakes,  and  Dark Star Safari . He lives in Hawaii and on Cape Cod. Foreword I have been sent many odd promotional items by wrongheaded public relations people desperate for me to write about their clients. Nothing, however, has been more misguided than the Kwikpoint® International Translator that I received a few years ago. The Kwikpoint® International Translator is a laminated, legal- sized card, folded three times, with full-color illustrations inside and out. On the front cover, the Kwikpoint® International Translator proclaims: “Say It with Pictures!”; “Point to Pictures and Make Yourself Understood Anywhere in the World!” Above those proclamations is a cartoon drawing of a tourist, a man with a camera strapped around his neck, seated at a restaurant table. His ignored menu sits beside him on the table and in his hands is a trusty Kwikpoint® International Translator. The man points at a simple illustration of a cup of coffee, while above him, inside his cartoon dialogue bubble, the same image of a cup of coffee is rendered. Meanwhile, the smiling waitress stands before him and dutifully writes down his order. In her cartoon thought bubble is the exact same image of a cup of coffee. The cartoon’s message is clear: An international crisis has just been averted. Without ever having to learn that pesky foreign word for coffee, our tourist friend has successfully conveyed his beverage choice to the smiling waitress, who has understood him — even though she’s made it very difficult for our friend by not speaking his language. But coffee isn’t the only image that the Kwikpoint® International Translator provides. Open the thing up and there are hundreds of tiny pictures for the tourist to point at, and presumably resolve any situation that might arise. There are, of course, images for police, fire, hospital, pharmacy, currency exchange, hotel, train station, toothpaste, and the red-circle-with-a-slash international sign for “No.” But there are also more advanced images for specific needs — massage, diving equipment, casino games, squat toilet, male and female contraceptives, jumper cables, pipe-smoking supplies, poached egg, frog legs, life preserver. By following the guide at the bottom of the page, you can create compound ideas. Pointing at a glass of ice cubes plus a cup of coffee would equal iced coffee, for instance. Pointing to the red-circle-with-a-slash plus a jar of mustard equals “No Mustard.” Almost as an afterthought, in tiny letters, at the very bottom of the back page, the following advice is printed: “Learn a few key words in the local language: Yes, No, Hello, Goodbye, Thank You, Please, Love, Peace.” I believe that we have reached a very strange place in the evolution of travel when a product like the Kwikpoint® International Translator appears. And I can’t help but feel sorry for the person who feels compelled to tuck one of these into his fanny pack, next to his electronic currency converter, just in case he finds himself separated from the tour bus and suddenly in a place where no English is spoken. I don’t want to suggest that everyone who plans to travel should learn to speak a new language in order to do so. Nor do I want to get into another silly debate about what separates a “real traveler” from someone who’s “simply a tourist” — I happen to agree with Paul Fussell, who, in his seminal book Abroad, wrote: “We are all tourists now, and there is no escape.” I bring up the Kwikpoint® International Translator here because it strikes me as the antithesis of what travel is supposed to be. The person who uses this item is a person who, at worst, has an absolute, almost colonial, need to exert control over any people, place, or situation he encounters. The message: I can’t understand a word you’re saying, but it doesn’t matter, because I can point to a picture of pancakes and syrup, and you will fetch it for me. At best, the person who uses th