Nowhere is the place you never want to go. It's not on any departure board, and though some people like to travel so far off the motherland that it looks like Nowhere, most wanderers ultimately long to get somewhere. Yet every now and then—if there's nowhere else you can be and all other options have gone—going nowhere can prove the best adventure around.

    Nowhere is entirely uncharted; you've never read a guidebook entry on it or followed others' suggestions on a train ride through its suburbs. Few YouTube videos exist of it. Moreover, it's free from the most dangerous kind of luggage, expectation. Knowing nothing of a place in advance opens us up to a high energy we seldom encounter while walking around Paris or Kyoto with a list of the 10 things we want—or, in embarrassing truth, feel we need—to see.

    I'll never forget a bright January morning when I landed in San Francisco from Santa Barbara, just in time to see my connecting flight to Osaka take off. I hurried to the nearest airline counter to ask for help, and was told that I would have to wait 24 hours, at my own expense, for the next day's flight. An unanticipated delay is exactly what nobody wants on his schedule. The airline didn't answer for fog-related delays, a gate agent declared, and no alternative flights were available.

    Millbrae, California, the drive-through town that encircles San Francisco's airport, was a mystery to me. With one of the world's most beautiful cities only 40 minutes to the north, and the unofficial center of the world, Silicon Valley, 27 miles to the south, Millbrae is known mostly as a place to fly away from, at high speed.

    It was a cloudless, warm afternoon as a shuttle bus deposited me in Millbrae. Locals were taking their dogs for walks along the bay while couples wandered hand in hand beside an expanse of blue that, in San Francisco, would have been crowded with people and official “attractions.” I checked in to my hotel and registered.

    Suddenly I was enjoying a luxury I never allow myself, even on vacation: a whole day free. And as I made my way back to my hotel, lights began to come on in the hills of Millbrae, and I realized I had never seen a sight half so lovely in glamorous, industrial Osaka. Its neighbor Kyoto is attractive, but it attracts 50 million visitors a year.

    Who knows if I'll ever visit Millbrae again? But I'm confident that Nowhere will slip into my schedule many times more. No place, after all, is uninteresting to the interested eye. Nowhere is so far off the map that its smallest beauties are a discovery.