By: Bruce Laybourn

Exquisite exhilaration tingles and vibrates through every mortal fibre. Noise and power combine with warm mountain scents high on the Crown Range an experience closer to heaven than is possible on any other road.

Summer creeks are a trickle and lupins flash by in brilliant flower as riders in leather chase widening grins over the mountain pass. The alpine road from Wanaka to Queenstown is motorcycling bliss, even without its 1120 metre proximity to the heavens. The turns are tight and demanding and the road surface has no major surprises. The dawdling strings of tourist rentals create little more than the occasional mobile chicane. Central Otago is summer perfection for all who adventure here. I‘ve sampled its panorama of magnificent craggy landscapes and sublime lake and alpine views previously by car and coach but this is a first time, for me, by motorcycle. The verdict: two wheels are by far the best way to enjoy some of the grandest natural scenery on the planet.

World travellers discovered and fell in love with Central Otago long before Lord of the Rings catapulted this unique region into fame and cinematic history. Yet, even the biggest wide­screen theatre and eons of special effects are puny compared to the real thing. Few earthly locations define panoramic better than CentralOtago. Views simply do not fit into the normal human field of vision. That‘s why visitors to this grand landscape are always swivelling in a rhythmic, " have to see it all" dance. At Queenstown Airport I park the bike to meet a visitor off a flight from Auckland. While here I抦 an unwitting player in a meeting being brokered between Microsoft抯 Bill Gates and a mystery Russian at the alpine golf resort, Millbrook. Although it sounds like the launch pad into a new novel, the scenario developing at the baggage carousel is not fiction. With the Microsoft private jet parked out on the runway, I receive a tap on the shoulder from a limo driver who asks if I possess the long Russian surname adorning the board she抯 carrying. If so, she‘s waiting to take me to Millbrook to rendezvous with Gates. She has been standing with a group of other drivers and they have all decided I‘m the only one in the crowd who looks Russian. My friend Igor Smirnoff (he assures me this is his real name) taught me key Russian greetings, always after heaps of wine to ensure poor retention, so I only know a few Russian words, and though I would like to play a round of golf with Bill I can‘t bluff my way through this one. Eventually it抯 accepted that I‘m not Bill‘s Russian and not worthy of a limo ride to Millbrook.I wonder about their perception of me being Russian. Perhaps because I‘m wearing leather and everyone knows Russians, especially the baddies, always dress in black leather. However, my black leather is not KGB but Harley, worn for practical rather than sinister purposes.

My journey south involves a stimulating ride through the McKenzie Country, an elegant entree for what lies ahead in Central Otago. At Fairlie I‘m happy to stop, top up on fuel and thaw fingertips. Soon the sun breaks through and I抦 back on the road. The V­Rod thunders through Tekapo and onto a movie set dominated by the milky green lake and Southern Alps beyond. At Lake Pukaki, a fast 50 kilometres later, the cloud lifts as a heavenly curtain to reveal a sublime view of Mt Cook, New Zealand‘s mightiest peak. I‘m on a tight timetable to meet my daughter, Gerry, when she arrives at Queenstown Airport but Mt Cook, and all that lies before it, is a photo opportunity that can‘t be denied. Now the sun is high and has real heat, and I‘m a trifle overdressed in full leathers. At Twizel I fuel up and an old­timer tells me that he once had a Bonneville and this is the first V­Rod he‘s ever seen. And he‘s not sure he likes them. Wanaka arrives sooner than expected. I cast off clothes that have served me since Picton, shower and head for Queens

Australia Heritage and hedonism in Adelaide‘s back yard...

When I awoke to find the world‘s largest bedroom appliance almost within reach, boyhood dreams came flooding back. The siren was gleaming red, and hoses and ladders were at the ready, just as they had been ever since the Diamond T fire truck was built in 1936. I was sleeping with a fire engine in South Australia‘s first fire station, in well­healed North Adelaide, in one of the 23 heritage properties restored and operated by the extraordinary Regina and Rodney Twiss. One of their other Heritage Group buildings is a sandstone Friendly Society chapel just down the road, now converted from penance to pleasure. Alleluia. The Festival Centre is just a walk down the hill, award­winning restaurants are almost within aroma distance, and music and the arts pervade the city. The two­week Bay to Birdwood classic cars rally is one of the world‘s largest, the annual jazz festival at Glenelg Beach draws international performers, while Womadelaide in the Botanic Park is three days of family fun, feasting and music from around the world. It‘s not just the availability of so many events, but the involvement of South Australians – 75 percent of the Adelaide Festival tickets, for example, are sold within the state. The weather makes much of this richness possible. It seems people put their furniture outdoors in spring and bring it back after vintage. McLaren Vale is practically in the suburbs. Just half an hour north is the Barossa Valley, and 90 minutes south is the Clare Valley. Just a couple of hours away to the east lies the Coonawarra district. Whether wine drinkers want possibly the world‘s best Rieslings or fullblown Aussie reds, this region is for them.

Foodies are spoiled by the Adelaide Central Market, where local olive oils are dispensed from the flagon, and they can even order fresh truffles. This is not your average market, as a quick taste of lemon myrtle oil or fresh local oysters quickly reveals. Port Adelaide is a reincarnation of the city‘s origins, and its pubs have genuine heritage in their wine cellars and excellent food on sunny decks.

The Art Gallery of South Australia and the South Australian Musuem are unmissable. Visitors do have to fill in the gaps for the missing Aboriginals, and the Tandanya Cultural Institute does this. Within about three seconds, its revelations of art and crafts explode the Aussie myth of Aboriginal inferiority that has made them all but invisible in their own country. Those who travel beyond the city will find barns and farms that are their own museums, and often turned into heritage accommodation with a gourmet food and wine component. The Barossa Gourmet month (August and September) when I visited included a Tongue to Tail offal dinner. Tongue to tail ­ that‘s a fair description of the pleasure range of Adelaide, the first place I would choose to live in Australia. That test, could I live here, marks the difference between a travel writer‘s assignment and a Top 10 destination.

In the 10 years since its launching, Destinations‘ writers have circumnavigated the planet scores of times.There is no continent and barely a country that the magazine‘scorrespondents have not visited to harvest stories and photographs for these pages.

Highlights, low points, delightful people, exquisite cuisine, risk and rejoicing, luxury and discomfort all make up the exchanges of information between our writers. No complaints, mind you, for who is going to take you seriously if you moan about your lot as a travel writer. Selecting a Top 10 destinations for this birthday edition was not a simple task. Travel experiences are, after all, just so subjective. We would have liked to have made it our Top 20 but that list will have to wait until 2016. With 20, we might not have had to leave out so many incredible destinations.

In the home region of Destinations, the South Pacific and Asia, we would have liked to include almost all the Pacific Islands. But they are so evenly matched that to include one would have meant including them all. Instead, we invite readers to take a deeper look at the Pacific Islands in our Discover the Pacific section of this edition.

With no ranking in order, our 10 gems are (alphabetically):

Australia, Adelaide
Botswana
India
Maldives
New Zealand
Scotland, Edinburgh
South Korea
Spain
Turkey
United States, San Francisco