There are no places left where no one has ever been. But there are still doors with no sign on them, and that's a different thing. Three examples from this year.
Mumbai, from the inside. Dharavi can be seen from a viewpoint, or it can be walked with people who actually live there, stepping into the workshops that keep the neighborhood running. The first is a view. The second is a morning you don't forget, and it only works if whoever's with you is from there.
A Kerala village that isn't expecting tourists. In Vaikom, some travelers of mine were welcomed with cheda melam — the region's traditional percussion — flower garlands, and a festive lunch served on a banana leaf. It's not a staged show: it's how a guest is received there. The difference is obvious within the first minute.
Cooking with the person who wrote the book. In Pampanga, north of Manila, a culinary historian whom people in the Philippines call "the guardian angel of Kapampangan cuisine" gives a demonstration in her own home. It's not a cooking school for travelers: it's her kitchen.
What the three have in common isn't that they're secret. It's that it takes knowing someone who knows someone.
Tell me what you'd like to discover, and I'll tell you whether I have a way in.