Rediscovering the Places You Love : Been there, haven’t done that . . . the best vacations may involve doing something new in a locale you know well.

The attorney flashed a steely smile as he aimed the loaded question in my direction: “My wife and I can’t agree on our next vacation: Do you prefer trying a new place or going back to a place that you love?” My answer, of course, was “Yes.”

Boundless curiosity makes it difficult to rule out travel to places I have not been.

But I am also unwilling to forgo strolling a favorite boulevard once more, or settling into a corner of a familiar cafe, or awakening to the bells of an ancient church and remembering, by heart, their ring.

When it comes to choosing a destination, much depends on the time of year. Much depends on international politics and the American dollar.

But for me, one position holds firm: I may have been there , but I can always find reasons to return.

Been there: London.

Haven’t done that: Visited the underground maze of clandestine Cabinet War Rooms (at the Whitehall end of St. James’s Park near Ten Downing Street), from which His Majesty’s government, under Winston Churchill, conducted World War II. Top-secret map rooms, a transatlantic telephone room that was linked to Franklin Roosevelt’s White House, and Churchill’s cramped bedroom are among chambers that have been restored and furnished as they were from 1939 to September of 1945. Entry is from Clive Steps--near a statue of Lord Clive--at the end of King Charles Street.

Been there: Lincoln, England.

Haven’t done that: Stayed at the cozy White Hart Inn on the medieval town square, just steps from Lincoln Cathedral. It is one of those English hostelries that I fall for during a morning stroll--when I still have miles to go before I sleep. These love-at-first-sight places are often named White Hart or Bay Tree or Swan.

Been there: Paris.

Haven’t done that: Spent enough hours wandering the Pere Lachaise cemetery, an enormous old burial ground at the city’s eastern edge, where monuments--opulent and plain--pay homage to the rich and famous and obscure. Chopin lies there, as well as Sarah Bernhardt, Rossini, Bellini, Bizet, Balzac, Edith Piaf and Oscar Wilde. Strange bedfellows in this final resting place with its Gothic spires, brooding angels, hearts and lyres.

Been there: Nice, on the French Cote d’Azur.

Haven’t done that: Slowed for rich coffee and sweets at the old-time confectioner’s called Auer, just steps from the Flower Market and a block from the Mediterranean shore. Locals compare it to Demel in Vienna, and recommend the almonds rolled in dark chocolate. Auer is next door to the Pharmacie de l’Opera, which is probably irrelevant.

Been there: Antarctica.

Haven’t done that: Explored the notoriously beautiful Gerlache Strait, not far from Deception Island. A white-out of fog moved in that December, halting our ship before we could enter the passage. We waited for 24 hours, wrapped in a shimmering cocoon, unable to see shore, sky or icebergs. The captain decided the weather would only worsen; we had to retreat. Yet life on board was eerily cozy during that suspended time, like a rainy day in a college dorm. I visited with a couple from Sark, and an Aussie rancher and watercolorist who told me that her daughter lives on a spread in Queensland “north of Anarchy.” (Although that hung in my memory, like the title of a steamy novel, the town’s spelling turned out to be Anakie. I’ve never been there either.)

Been there: Marrakech.

Haven’t done that: Stayed at the classic old Hotel La Mamounia, with its cool gardens of olive trees and orange trees, its tiles and trickling fountains. The Mamounia--not far from the towering Koutoubia mosque--was closed for major refurbishing when I was in Morocco some years ago. But I remember that Winston Churchill vacationed at the Mamounia, happily painting in the clear sunlight and fresh air. It must have been a relief after the underground years.