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Deep in the red-rock country of central Southern Utah, this hidden gem of a national park doesn’t draw much attention to itself, making it a great place to avoid the crowds. It’s situated along most of the nearly 100-mile-long Waterpocket Fold, a classic geologic monocline created by a shift in the rock layers. The majority of guests here drive the main road through the north-central section, where the visitor center is located, but there’s lots to see in Cathedral Valley in the far north and Strike Valley in the far south as well.

Nearly hidden behind a tall row of hedges is Delano South Beach, a landmarked hotel built in 1947 and renovated by Ian Schrager and Philippe Starck in 1995. Schrager and Starck wanted Delano to feel like a home; to that end, Starck created a series of discrete “living spaces,” with mismatched furniture, in the hotel’s common areas. Each of the spaces is intended to evoke specific images and experiences from his childhood, such as a wall of nightlights. The Delano’s backyard and pool area are an extension of the lobby’s “living room,” and that’s why a table and two chairs sit in a shallow section of the pool, and why the hotel’s veranda features the kind of comfortable furniture usually found inside a building, rather than outside it. In rooms, guests will find oversized marble bathtubs, said to be a favorite among NBA players because of their seven-foot length, along with Malin + Goetz toiletries.

Ollantaytambo’s namesake archaeological site is one of the best examples of Incan architecture in the region. It’s easy to spend a half day exploring the temples and other structures there, especially if you factor in time to hike up beyond the ruins. Meanwhile, the quaint town itself remains much as it was in Incan times, with original houses, streets, and waterways. Some buildings are open to the public, offering a fascinating glimpse into a centuries-old way of life. Most Machu Picchu–bound trains leave from the station here.

While the large pool hot springs of Glenwood Springs are great for a soak, it can get busy there (and the ambience is nothing special). The Ogilby/Jacober family, owners of the Avalanche Ranch Hot Springs in the Crystal River Valley, took a bit of a risk when they drilled to access what they suspected was a geothermal reservoir. But they hit the jackpot, and built three beautiful and intimate pools of naturally hot water set in a wooded area, with views of Mount Sopris, Elephant Mountain, and Avalanche Creek Valley. The original farmhouse on the property was built in 1913 and has since been renovated; it includes an antique shop, available to day guests as well as overnight patrons.

In addition to providing a peaceful green space, this remarkable terraced garden near the Ponte Vecchio offers terrific views of the city. Its scale—much smaller than that of the Boboli Gardens—gives it a more intimate feel. In spite of its size, it includes an incredible diversity of garden styles. Climb the grand central staircase and wander from woodlands to an Anglo-Chinese garden, with fountains and sculptures in the mix, as well as visible fragments of the garden’s original medieval walls. The famed 19th-century art dealer Stefano Bardini lived in the Villa Mozzi (now the Villa Bardini) and it is his unique taste and vision that continues to shape this ornate attraction.

Flickering candles, velvet theater curtains, hushed conversation, and classic cocktails dressed up with slices of dried lemon or lime—the Golden Age Cinema and Bar feels like a secret supper club of yesteryear. Yet, with a geometric light installation, fresh bar snacks and drinks, and a digital film projector, the experience is entirely modern. That’s exactly what owners Barrie, Bob and Chris Barton—who also launched Rooftop Cinema in Melbourne—were after: creating a bar and movie experience that combines the best of today with the best of yesterday. The theater, housed underground in the 1940s Paramount Pictures building, features 60 seats made in the ‘40s and sourced from Switzerland. Shows are both classic and contemporary, with two screenings per night as well as special events such as the monthly Two Thousand Film Club, during which a notable local picks their favorite film and engages in a live Q&A. Before or after the program, enjoy movie-inspired cocktails, including a daily cameo that’s crafted entirely around what’s being shown—think whiskey for the music documentary Muscle Shoals set along the Tennessee River—with herb and parmesan popcorn, maple-bourbon pecans, or the sundae that Gelato Messina reinvents every month. Oh, and on Tuesdays, films are shown at “golden age prices,” which means you could see a 1960s flick for $1 with the purchase of a drink. You’re welcome.

No hotel in Jamaica blends better with its surroundings than the aptly named Rockhouse, a string of villas clinging to the top of a sea cliff at the western tip of the island. Local stone, timber, and thatch are the building materials, and a harmony of design and setting is the result. The feel is rustic, but not rough (the showers might be outdoors, but the rooms are air-conditioned), and the feeling carries over to the pool, which sits on a rock platform halfway down the cliff face, from where sunbathers can don snorkel and mask and clamber down into a usually calm Caribbean. Even the restaurant hangs over the water, adding emphasis to the promise of dishes being fresh from the sea.

As does practically every hotel in Jamaica, Rockhouse has its celebrity stories, going back to the early ‘70s when Bob Marley, Bob Dylan, and the Rolling Stones added their names to the guest register. But it wasn’t until 1994, when a group of Australian owners took over, that Rockhouse began to evolve its reputation as one of the most Jamaican of Jamaican hotels. It happened in part because Rockhouse has none of the formality that some of the island’s best-known hotels, with their British colonial roots, still possess. And in part because of its active role in funding local education projects, it’s a valued, and popular, part of the community. That, and the restaurant’s homemade jerk sausage is legendary.

There aren’t many other places in the world where you can buy luxury bags, wallets, belts and jewelry made from local crocodile skins. Welcome to the Northern Territory. Di Croco in Darwin offers some of the finest products from the most valuable of all croc skins—that of the saltwater crocodile, which has a beautifully intricate small-scale pattern. The shop works with two of the eight licensed crocodile farms in Australia and is involved in every step of the process from procuring skins to tanning, finishing and making hardware. An Italian-made collection features bags with custom-made lining designed by one of the artists of the Merrepen arts community in the Daly River Region of the Northern Territory. A beautiful red handbag could set you back $5,000 AUD, but it’s a bargain compared to the high fashion houses, and a literal piece of the Northern Territory that you can take home.

No matter how much people seem to know about the giant Alaska-grown vegetables they hear about on the national news, they’re always surprised that—surprise!—Alaska has farms, and those farms grow loads of different things. Here’s some proof: The tables at the Tanana Valley Farmers Market overflow with goodness grown under the midnight sun. All those hours of sunlight make it possible for farmers to turn over more crops per summer than a cranky French maître d’ turns over tables at a busy bistro. But even if you’re not up for just chomping down on sweet, sweet Alaska-grown carrots for lunch—and seriously, you should consider doing just that—there are plenty of other food vendors at the market. Crafty fun stuff, too. Your souvenir shopping? Done!

The Huacahuasi lodge is one of Mountain Lodges of Peru’s stunning accommodations. The wall of windows in the lodge’s main room offers spectacular views of the clouds rolling through the valley in the evenings. The bright, colorful space was decorated with local design in mind. The lodge has an on-site masseur and each room has a private soaking tub with views of that impressive ridge line.

Between the rugged coastline of the Banks Peninsula and the snowcapped peaks of the Southern Alps, the Canterbury Plains, formed by mountain rivers, make up one of New Zealand’s most fertile regions. The aerial view of the patchwork of green farms intersecting at Charing Cross has become an iconic New Zealand image. The plains are traversed by the TranzAlpine train, a scenic rail journey sweeping from Christchurch to Greymouth on the South Island’s west coast, taking in Arthur’s Pass National Park, the glacial Waimakariri River and many of Canterbury’s hill country farms.

This national park is centered along the spine plateau above Bryce Canyon, which drops to the east from the main park road. Along the road are numerous pull-offs for enjoying views down into the canyon, with its miles and miles of awe-inspiring sandstone hoodoo spires. Drive to the far south end of the park where the road terminates for the best views of Rainbow Point, named for the colorful rocks that lead into the Grand Staircase National Monument, then get away from the crowds by hiking one of the many trails that drop into the canyon. Visitors can also pick up a backcountry permit and stay overnight to see the stars. While most tourists come during the spring and summer months, Bryce is particularly stunning in the winter when it’s covered in snow.

Reykjadalur means “Steam Valley"—a perfectly apt description of this pleasant geothermal area close to the town of Hveragerði, a 40-minute drive south from Reykjavík. Formed from a now extinct volcano (Mount Hengill), the valley is best experienced via a two-mile walk along a gravel road, which leads into the hot springs. The hour-long stroll—fairly easy but quite narrow in places—is highly photogenic thanks to the presence of boreholes, waterfalls, and springs, so bring your camera as well as your swimming gear. Be sure also to use only the official bathing pools, since although the light-blue water may look innocent, some pools are hot enough to cause severe burns. If you don’t have a car to get to the site, you can visit the springs via an official tour, which can be done in combination with some horse riding. There is also a restaurant close to the parking lots and bathrooms.

Quinta do Vallado welcomes its guest in its comfortable Wine Hotel since 2005. It belonged to the legendary Dona Antónia Adelaide Ferreira and remains to this day as property of her descendants. It is located on the banks of the River Corgo, a tributary of the Douro River, right next to the river mouth near the town of Peso da Régua.For nearly 200 years the Quinta do Vallado was primarily engaged in the production of Port wine, subsequently marketed by Casas Ferreira (that belonged to the Family). After Dona Antónia Adelaide Ferreira, her great grand-son - Jorge Viterbo Ferreira and her great-great grand-son - Jorge Cabral Ferreira - were responsible for the great development and growth of the Quinta.

I’m not sure at what age humans develop the skill to stand still and appreciate scenery, but based on a scientific survey of kids who live in my house, it’s not age seven. (On a trip to the Canadian Rockies, as my wife and I snapped photos of the relentlessly picturesque mountains, my son, Luke, investigated how quickly he could break his toy helicopter.) Luke expects Mother Nature to be his playmate. At Bandelier National Monument, about an hour’s drive from Santa Fe, New Mexico, she is. The visitor center offers kids a booklet of activities that, when completed, earn them a Junior Ranger patch. (You could call it a bribe. We prefer the term incentive.) The scavenger hunt sent us off on the Main Loop Trail in search of birds, trees, and bugs, as well as the feature that sets Bandelier apart and makes it perfect for kids: cave dwellings. Ladders of salvaged wood lead to rooms that the Pueblo people carved out of the cliffs here over 800 years ago. “I don’t want to go up, Daddy,” Luke said. “It’s too steep.” “You’ve got this, buddy,” I said. “Just take it slow.” There were no lines of impatient parents pushing their children to race up the ladder. (We saw no more than 20 people on the trail.) Luke could climb the rungs at his own pace. He paused in triumph at the top, then set off to wander the caves. While Mom and Dad squatted—“Watch out for your bald head, Daddy”—Luke could explore without even hunching. After about 45 minutes, we were walking back toward the visitor center. We crossed a nearly dry creek by hopping hand in hand from one downed log to another and were back in time for lunch, before hunger, fatigue, or boredom could set in. It was a parent’s—and child’s—dream hike. This appeared in the August/September 2014 issue.