The Peabody Hotel, Memphis, Tennessee. This is a beautiful hotel, but what makes it fascinating for the casual tourist is the persistent, encompassing fascination with the ducks that spend their nights sleeping in a “palace” (that is, a cage containing a miniature model of the Peabody Hotel) on the roof and their days swimming in the hotel’s lobby fountain. The transitions between roof and lobby are marked by a “march” for which gawkers pack the lobby to catch a glimpse of the ducks—guided, of course, by a uniformed “duckmaster”—making a 30-foot dash. It’s majestically weird.

Rowan Oak, Oxford, Mississippi. This is the well-situated home where William Faulkner lived from 1930 until his death in 1962. A “rowan oak” is a mythical tree, and Faulkner’s home feels appropriately mythic; those fascinated by the thorny beauty of Southern literature will not be disappointed by the tree-lined walk from a residential street into the glen where the elegantly square house presides over a picturesque array of outbuildings. Stand on the patio where Faulkner often sat to write, and you’ll feel that the two of you have had a moment. (Be grateful he’s dead, since the reality of a meeting with the grumpy author might rupture the idyll.)

The Crown, Indianola, Mississippi. This lunch spot serves decadent entrees, and while you wait for your main course, you’ll be served a steady supply of hot beer bread and corn bread—not to mention coffee, which you’re also encouraged to hop up and serve yourself if your need is particularly urgent. After lunch, it costs only two dollars to establish an all-you-can-eat relationship with the pie table—if you don’t try all the pies, you’ll be mildly chastised. You can hang out and use the wi-fi all you’d like, and when you’re ready to leave, just walk up to the counter and tell ’em what you ate.

TurnRow Book Company, Greenwood, Mississippi. There’s something both annoying and magical about this absurdly perfect establishment, carefully stocked and pristinely maintained. Climb to the mezzanine and buy a cup of coffee that you can either enjoy in the air-conditioned bookstore or out on the shaded screen porch. Much of The Help was filmed in Greenwood, and reportedly this was a favorite spot of Emma Stone’s. Of course it was.

Greenville Cypress Preserve, Greenville, Mississippi. This compact but serene nonprofit preserve provides a (free) opportunity to walk along boardwalks lacing one of the South’s iconic cypress groves. There’s an almost prehistoric feel to the duckweed-skinned ponds in which the thickly-ridged trees use knee-like roots to steady themselves. The preserve’s proprietors are not above maintaining a dense patch of bamboo, which is locally regarded as an invasive species, but—like the even more destructive kudzu—is pretty damn cool-looking.

Ogden Museum of Southern Art, New Orleans, Louisiana. As a northerner traveling in the South, one thing you get jealous of is the area’s strong regional identity. A museum of “Northern” or “Midwestern” art wouldn’t have the same sense of coherence, and almost certainly wouldn’t be as much fun as this brilliantly curated collection, which pulls you room to room by stoking your curiosity—and also by occasionally scaring the bejeezus out of you. If you get there soon, you can catch Craig Damrauer’s wonderfully eerie installation After the Forest.

Dollywood, Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. We put Dollywood on our agenda because we expected it to be gloriously kitschy; surprisingly, though, it turned out to be far classier than the average theme park. The park is gracefully integrated into its stunning Smoky Mountain setting, and the Dolly-related attractions tend to leave you with a sense of admiration rather than amusement. The park feels like an oasis amidst the overwhelming commercial kitsch of the rest of Pigeon Forge, which includes a giant model of the Titanic (it’s billed as a “museum attraction,” a phrase bearing the same relationship to “museum” as the phrase “juice drink” bears to “juice”); several elaborately themed mini-golf courses; and a Hatfields-versus-McCoys dinner theater.

Christmas Place, Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. There are plenty of year-round Christmas stores in America, but what distinguishes this one is its sheer scale and scope. It’s as big as a museum, almost on the scale of a theme park: there’s a hotel, there’s a singing Santa, there are rooms upon rooms of densely-packed Christmas paraphernalia. Nearly every dimension of the commercial Christmas industry is represented here, from trees to candles to creches to candy. Best of all, the complex is built in the form of a giant miniature Christmas village. You would think that “giant” and “miniature” would cancel each other out, but somehow they don’t—that’s the magic of Christmas Place.

Ryman Auditorium, Nashville, Tennessee. This elegant and historic venue, proudly wearing its well-earned moniker “the mother church of country music,” was narrowly saved from destruction in the 1990s and now once again has a busy life hosting performances by everyone from Flight of the Conchords (Bret signed a poster, “Thanks, Mr. and Mrs. Ryman”) to David Gray (signed his poster, “This place is special. The air is full of ghosts and the walls are full of music. I intend to sing my heart out tonight”). If you want to pass on seeing, say, Sara Bareilles playing on the stage formerly graced by Hank Williams, Johnny Cash, and Elvis Presley, you can take a self-guided tour or a guided backstage tour.

Savannah’s Candy Kitchen. The best smell in Nashville. I know that’s not saying much, but…still.

– Jay Gabler