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There’s a reason this is one of the most iconic spots along the Grand Canyon. Located on the Havasupai Indian Reservation and hidden deep within a 20-mile round-trip hike, Havasu Falls’ sparkling turquoise waters are a popular destination for seasoned hikers who come for the amazing views, rock climbing, and swimming. The hike to the falls and back is best enjoyed with a preplanned route and plenty of stops for rest, food, and water. Because tribe members of the Havasupai, which means “people of the blue-green waters,” maintain the trails and work to keep their land as unspoiled and pristine as possible, reservations for campsites are limited and day hikes and drones are not allowed.

Cape Town’s Table Mountain National Park, which hugs the perimeter of the city, is so popular that the line for the cable car to the top can be longer than a queue for a Disneyland ride. But why stand in line when you can put your feet to use? There are several routes that lead to the top of the 3,562-foot, flat-topped mountain, including the two-mile Platteklip Gorge trail. Yes, it’s steep, but startling views of the city and the Atlantic await. Trek, get hungry, then picnic on local provisions—crackers, Dutch-style Gouda, and biltong, the thick-sliced South African jerky—before riding the cable car back down.

In a city that takes itself so seriously—running the United States is an intense business, after all—the Hotel Madera is a breath of fresh air. Just a couple of leafy blocks from always-lively Dupont Circle, the Kimpton-run boutique hotel looks like a 1960s apartment building on the outside, belying interiors adorned in colorful, batik-inspired fabrics and perks like in-room yoga mats and an evening wine hour. In other words, the Madera is the kind of place where you relax. The laid-back and trendy restaurant takes its design cues from a fairy-tale forest, and pets are as catered to as children and bachelorette groups. It’s hard to beat the Dupont Circle location, too, which puts the White House, the Kennedy Center, and trendy neighborhoods like Logan Circle and U Street all within throwing distance. No, it’s not the fanciest stay in town, but D.C. doesn’t need another fussy hotel to attract visiting dignitaries—and you’ll have more fun at the Madera, anyway.

The concierge at the hotel was skeptical. The cab driver was amused and skeptical. Lucha libre, or Mexican wrestling, is clearly an unsophisticated embarrassment, tantamount to telling a visitor to the U.S. to watch Keeping Up with the Kardashians. Attending a match, though, is a way to see a side of Mexican culture not found in museums or historic churches, but one that definitely uses some of the same mythology, iconography, and pageantry seen there. The crowd shouts, chants, and laughs through performances featuring dancing girls, inept referees, men in lavish and ridiculous costumes (a caveman with a plastic club, fur boots, and a skimpy loincloth), and some honest-to-God astounding feats of athleticism. Matches—loud and funny and thrilling—take place on Friday nights and occasionally during the week. Tickets can be bought in person at the arena, but arrive early to avoid a long line and use your time to shop the stands set up outside for handmade lucha libre wares (wrestling capes, masks, T-shirts, onesies for infants).

The perfect place to shop for anything and everything from all the islands is the 155-year-old public market called Le Marché. Located two blocks from the waterfront in the heart of Papeete, the market covers two stories. The lower level is filled with hundreds of stands offering Tahitian-made crafts, oils, vanilla, fruits, and flowers. Upstairs is reserved for artisans selling pareos, carvings, Tifaifai wall hangings and quilts, embroidered cushion covers, and other handicrafts. You’ll also find a few good shops for purchasing unique black pearl jewelry at fair prices. An on-site cafeteria serves local dishes. Le Marché is not just a tourist attraction, however—it’s a proper market where locals come to shop for meat, fish, fresh flowers, and produce and to chat with friends over coffee at one of the patisseries.

Tango is as essential to Buenos Aires as pizza is to Naples, so the Anselmo Hotel is a perfect fit for the city, with its location in the heart of the San Telmo neighborhood—known for spontaneous street dancing—in a 1906 mansion once belonging to tango composer Anselmo Asiento. The hotel is perched on Plaza Dorrego, a lively public space surrounded by cafes and shops which especially gets going on Sunday, when the San Telmo antique fair and flea market spills into the street, attracting shoppers, musicians, and revelers. Clean-lined, modern furniture and black-and-white photographs of Buenos Aires compliment the building’s original wooden shutters and wrought-iron balconies. Sip a glass of Malbec in the cozy wood interior of the Acacia bar and restaurant, or take it outside into the calm inner courtyard. A small gym is available if you haven’t gotten in enough steps wandering the neighborhood’s cobblestone streets or tango dancing the night away.

If you’re concerned about the provenance of handcrafts and whether your purchase will genuinely benefit the craftsperson or artist who made it, then confine your shopping to FONART. This government-sponsored project ensures that all of its products were made by Mexican artists and that creators receive a fair rate for their work. Prices here are higher than you’ll find for similar goods sold in the city’s markets, but you can rest easy knowing that the hand-painted wooden chest, embroidered blouse, or black pottery from Oaxaca was made by a legitimate artisan who will receive payment for their craft.

Many of the Mexico City markets, especially La Ciudadela, sell huipiles, the loose-fitting, hand-embroidered blouses that many Mexican women traditionally wore. Sometimes, though, you can’t be sure of their provenance and quality isn’t always consistent. At FONART, the National Fund for the Development of Artisans, however, you can be sure that the huipiles and other pieces of clothing you’re buying, such as scarves, are handmade by artisans who are from Mexico, and that they’re crafted from the finest traditional materials. FONART has several stores in Mexico City, including one centrally located on Avenida Reforma near the Fiestamericana Hotel and this one near the Alameda on Avenida Juárez.

Part of the North Shore mountain range, this 4,039-foot peak offers jaw-dropping views of the city. It’s busiest in the winter, when four chairlifts service 33 ski runs, but remains popular in the summer thanks to the steep, 1.8-mile Grouse Grind hiking trail. Those wishing to skip the sweat can ride the gondola to the summit—the ticket price includes access to lumberjack shows, the grizzly refuge, and guided eco-walks. Pay extra to zip-line, throw axes, or ascend Eye of the Wind, the world’s first and only wind turbine with a viewing pod. Afterward, hit one of the eateries like the self-service Lupins or The Observatory, which serves upscale West Coast cuisine.

One of Montréal’s most iconic landmarks was designed by an American, R. Buckminster Fuller. The Biosphere, an enormous geodesic dome, sits in Parc Jean-Drapeau on St. Helen’s Island in the St. Lawrence River. Now considered one of the most important examples of futuristic architecture of its period, it was originally built as the U.S. Pavilion for Expo 67, the world’s fair that took place in Montréal in 1967. It quickly proved to be one of the most popular attractions of the event. An acrylic skin originally covered the building, but that was destroyed in a fire in 1976 and never restored. The skeleton building remained intact, however, and it is arguably even more dramatic and elegant than before the fire. Today the Biosphere houses a kid-friendly Environment Museum, with interactive displays that introduce environmental concepts and address the issue of climate change.

The name of this restaurant gives a fairly big clue as to its culinary specialty—i.e., fish. But the market part of the name is equally important, since the kitchen espouses a commitment to fresh ingredients, which are usually purchased from local farmers and fishermen. Spread across two floors inside one of central Reykjavík’s oldest buildings, this smartly decorated spot is run by head chef Hrefna Rósa Sætran (part of the Icelandic National Culinary team), and serves not just fish and seafood but also meat and vegetarian dishes, all prepared in an open kitchen that boasts the country’s only robata grill. There is a separate raw bar serving up sushi and sashimi, and a surprisingly funky cocktail and craft beer menu.

Dubai’s perpetually glittering Gold Souk has been one of this Emirate’s major attractions for many years—you’ll find dozens and dozens of shops selling gold, silver, platinum, and diamonds, plus plenty of touts hawking “geniune fake” Rolex watches, iPhones, textiles, laptops, and more. The government exercises strict controls over the quality of gold and other precious metals, so you can rest assured that what you’re buying is the real deal—though the same cannot be said for the wristful of watches you’re likely to be talked into purchasing down a back alley. The Gold Souk is a fantastic place to watch Dubai whiz by; pack your camera and plenty of memory cards for a wander through the back alleys, where you’ll encounter friendly folk eager to pose with you for a photo or two.

Stepping into the enormous main concourse of this landmarked architectural jewel—with its sweeping granite staircases, hulking columns and 38-meter (125-foot) ceilings painted with night-sky constellations—can be a jaw-dropping experience. What’s even more incredible, though, is the sheer number of people who use it as a commuter hub day in and day out (more than 750,000 train and subway passengers every weekday). Wander around the shops, head down to the basement food court for a bite and to marvel at the crowds hurrying by—and if you get jostled, don’t take it personally.

While Tamarindo in Costa Rica is no longer a sleepy beach town known only to a lucky few, we can still settle ourselves onto the sand and feel like we have the vast skyline to ourselves. Staying in Playa Langosta, the beach just south of Tamarindo, provides a welcoming relief from clusters of tourists while keeping us close enough for sunsets like this! Extra bonus: Have a friend or loved one in one hand and a cocktail in the other.

For bibliophiles, a beautiful bookstore is akin to a church. Voices hush, smiles abound, and books are handled gently, like precious relics. An old home packed with an extensive collection of used and new titles, Bart’s Books opened in 1964, when Richard Bartinsdale’s collection became so huge that he constructed bookcases outside, so passersby could peruse the titles. Instead of a cash register, he left coffee cans on the shelves so customers could leave payment. Today, Bart’s is the largest independently owned and operated outdoor bookstore in the country—and the books outside are still for sale via the honor system. But the offerings extend indoors too. If you’re looking for cookbooks and culinary lore, check in the building’s kitchen. The living room features poetry. Art books are in the gallery. The rest of the place is a maze of bookshelves with corrugated tin roofing and open-air seating areas for reading at your leisure. Don’t worry about rain: The books are fairly well protected, and while a few may be lost in the rare heavy storm, most make it through perfectly fine.

Istanbul’s Spice Bazaar may be a global tourist trap, but isn’t nearly as rage-inducing as the squawking group tours inside the Grand Bazaar. Here, a remnant of authenticity lives on in this 17th century building, created by commission for Sultana Turhan Hatice. Visually-arresting piles of spices and Turkish delight, and rows of pushy men, make for a wild afternoon of souvenir shopping and colorful conversation. Inside the Ucuzcular stall the sellers are friendly and happy to let you browse. A bag of “love tea” ensures romance in a pot. In that vein, on my way through the bazaar, a man trotted up to me and said, “Excuse me. I think you dropped something...” I looked puzzled. He smiled and theatrically clutched his chest, "...my heart.” He probably does that for all the Westerners, but I pretended it was as real as the magic in the spices.