Generations of Polynesian people have gathered for the ceremonial (or simply social) imbibing of a mildly narcotic “tea” made from the kava root. I first encountered kava while traveling the South Pacific with my future husband. In both Fiji and Samoa, we were guests at demonstration kava ceremonies. That said, I have never experienced the sort of neighborhood kava bar described in the novels of J. Maarten Troost. Here now, on Haywood Street in Asheville, North Carolina, was my first.

“A relaxing beverage dispensary, patterned after the nakamals, or "peaceful meeting places" of Vanuatu,” is how Noble Kava describes itself. Not a bar, but a community hub where, “mood-elevating indigenous herbal drinks are served everyday to help patrons cope with the fast-paced modern Western lifestyle.”

I'm thinking they should open one near my house.

The guy behind the counter (a barista?) asks if we’re familiar with kava. Assured that we are savvy veterans, he lays out the options for sizes, varieties, and a 2-for-1 special. Preparing our drinks, he tells us that the kava served at Noble Kava is brewed in the traditional method. “Masticated by virgins and strained through a sock?” asks I, the smart-ass. “Perhaps not THAT authentic,” allows our host.

We walk away from the counter with two cups each—one containing kava and the other, a much appreciated cranberry chaser (I defy anyone to make a case for savoring kava, which tastes pretty much like dirt). While surveying the room from my barstool, the back of my tongue went numb and I began to feel a warm glow of affection for everyone in my new tea room kava tribe.

Thirty minutes well spent.

Stay: I can't imagine how fantastic the town of Hot Springs, North Carolina would look to an Appalachian Trail through-hiker. It's got fine dining, an unpretentious bar, one of the most insanely well stocked small-town hardware stores I have ever seen, and private hot tubs fed by hot mineral waters. Campsites line the bank of the French Broad River across the road from the pools, the AT goes through the middle of town, and my phone is a useless brick. I love it.