I traveled to American Samoa 8 years ago, wanting to vacation far enough away that my cell phone and pager wouldn’t work, yet lacking a passport and not liking the idea of Mexico’s beaches at spring break. American Samoa popped into my head, I got the last seat on a Hawaiian Airlines flight and booked a room at Barry’s Bed and Breakfast and was off. It is not a touristy place per se, but it has beauty and charm and for me plenty of peace and quiet. There is a small museum with an extensive exhibit about tattooing, a canoe-shaped drum, and information on the fine mats. I drank a great deal of Vailima beer. I tried kava. I hiked the peaked ridge of the island (it’s an extinct ocean volcano). I inspected tide pools dyed a brilliant blue. I swam in a natural pool at the base of a waterfall. I came home with sun poisoning, odd insect bites, and a scary rash as well as a yellow CDC card stating I probably had been exposed to dengue fever, in case anyone was interested. I went for a complete escape, and that’s what I got.