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Architecture lovers flock to the Huangpu River’s western side to stroll the Bund, a waterfront tourist magnet in central Shanghai. There’s a glorious mishmash of late-19th- and early-20th-century styles here, from Gothic revival to art deco. Walk by the Fairmont Peace Hotel—first opened in 1929 as the Cathay Hotel—to behold its copper pyramid roof turned aqua with age. (Talk about aging gracefully.) Then hit the marble-floored HSBC Building (No. 12) to admire the domed ceiling’s eight mosaic murals, with frescoes depicting the 12 zodiac signs.

If you’re looking to escape the tourist hubbub in Dubrovnik’s historic core, follow the locals to Lokrum. Just a 15-minute ferry ride from the Old Town, the island offers magnificent nature walks through botanical gardens and olive groves. Paths climb up to sites like the oldest Benedictine monastery in the region and Napoleon’s Fort Royal at the very top, passing native peacocks along the way. Come for a relaxing stroll, a picnic in the shade, or a refreshing dip in the sparkling Adriatic.

Look out Las Vegas, Coco Bongo is in town. This wild dance club, in the heart of Cancun’s hotel zone, is packed with live shows—everything from faux Queen or Madonna to bar-top conga lines and airborne acrobats. Make sure to bring your dancing shoes because salsa, trance, rave, and hip-hop bands will have you jiving amid bubbles and streamers galore. The party starts around 10:30 and there is no seating, so be prepared to stand—or dance—until the wee hours of the morning. The entrance fee includes an open bar.

As tourists gaze up at Michelangelo’s dome in St. Peter’s Basilica, many have no idea that one of Vatican City’s most compelling historic sites is directly beneath their feet: the Vatican Necropolis, also known as the scavi (excavations). This multilevel subterranean area tells the story of Vatican Hill’s ancient Roman suburban beginnings. Take a walk through a 1st-century C.E. necropolis (once a cemetery and mausoleum), 5th-century Christian burial area, the Vatican grottoes, and the original 4th-century church foundation walls.

Tenaya is not only one of the most beautiful lakes in Yosemite, it’s one of the most accessible—when Tioga Road (the only road in the high country) is open, usually May through October. The fact that it’s easy to get to makes it one of the most popular sites in Yosemite, but because it’s located 8,150 feet about the valley floor, it’s still a lot less crowded than other attractions. The sandy swimming beach on the east end of the clear alpine lake is a favorite spot for sunbathing, with granite domes surrounding three sides. There’s also a smaller, typically less busy beach on the west end, but you’ll have to do a little wading to get there. For landlubbers, there’s an easy 2.5-mile hike around the lake.

Panama’s principal Baha’i temple exudes peace and serenity 770 feet above sea level. The religion’s houses of worship are prayer and meditation spaces open to all, regardless of individual belief, social group, or ethnicity. The faithful follow the teachings of the prophet Baha’u’lláh, who preached—among other tenets—human unity, the individual pursuit of truth, harmony between religion and science, as well as equality between men and women. Panama’s temple, opened in 1972 at the summit of Cerro Sonsonate, is one of just eight like it in the world; Baha’i sacred scripture considers Panama a “crossroads.” Since its opening, the stately white dome crowning the temple, drawing the eye toward heaven, has become one of the urban landscape’s most striking architectural elements.

The Tiergarten might be Berlin’s most famous park, but the sprawling, 7,400-acre Grunewald wins the prize for the city’s most impressive forest. Fringed by the Havel River to the west, it contains a multitude of pleasant hiking and cycling paths, lakes and sand dunes, and a surprising number of cultural, historical, and architectural sights as well. Besides the Teufelsberg man-made hill and adjacent Teufelssee Lake, there are great forest views from the Grunewaldturm, which also has a beer garden. Jagdschloss Grunewald, a 16th-century hunting lodge, has a café and a collection of old masters paintings. Close to the S-Bahn you can see a touching memorial to the deportation of the city’s Jews, who were sent from this station to death camps during World War II.

At the summit of Montmartre, the highest point in the city, you’ll find the Basilica de Sacré-Cœur. Contrasting with the Gothic churches like Notre-Dame, the Romano-Byzantine architecture is both beautiful inside and out. While outside, take in the panorama of Paris and while inside, marvel at the Apse Mosaic—one of the largest mosaics in the world. The Sacré-Cœur website has instructions on how to download the free audio guide on your phone before your visit which is recommended. Also, research the well-known (and apparently tried-and-true) scams before traveling to Paris. Overall, the city seems pretty free of tourist scams, but around Sacré-Cœur especially, visitors should be on alert.

After years at its original, jewel-box-like (and maybe even a little solemn) location, the city’s high temple of Mexican regional cuisine has moved to a more expansive—some say more relaxed—space. It includes more light, a bar area for “taco omakase,” and large windows overlooking the garden, plus a groovy, midcentury accent that might recall Manhattan’s late, lamented Four Seasons restaurant. Changes aside, diners can still count on a six-section prix fixe menu, with each section home to multiple bites involving an astounding variety of local ingredients that even most Mexicans have never tasted, all exquisite enough to have placed Pujol on several best-restaurants lists for years running. And yes, you still get a taste of chef Enrique Olvera’s mole madre, well over a thousand days in the pot as of this writing.

Go shopping at Villagio Mall, an opulent Venetian-style shopping mall traversed by water canals and a fleet of gondolas offering rides to the shoppers. The Mall is inconspicuously partitioned into two sections: one geared to cater to middle class patrons which resembles an elegant shopping mall in the USA, and the exclusive side with high-end boutiques (Cavalli, Roles, Versace, Louis Vuitton, etc), French restaurants and designer jewelries, all under a lavish glass dome and flanked by balconies evocative of an old Italian town.

When I stepped into the grand lobby of Québec’s Le Château Montebello, I felt like I was entering Paul Bunyan’s living room. Giant timbers braced a three-story-high ceiling, and a massive fireplace in the center radiated warmth in all directions. After checking in, I joined the guests gathered around the six-sided hearth and sank into a leather club chair. I spent the rest of the day by the fire, sipping hot toddies and napping, as the comfort of the crackling flames sent me and the other fireside dozers snuggling deeper into our cushions. I had come to ski some of the 65,000 acres of wooded backcountry that neighbor the resort, but the château was so welcoming, I found it hard to leave.


Often described as the world’s largest log cabin, the lodge and two other main buildings were constructed in 1930 from 10,000 red cedar logs and 500,000 handmade wooden shingles. The houses and the vast surrounding forests were long owned by the politically prominent Papineau family, and until 1970, the estate remained a private nature retreat for Canada’s upper class. As I walked through the château’s halls, the intricately carved banisters and exposed beams reminded me of the great western lodges in the U.S. national parks—only without any grumpy tourists demanding to know where the animals are.

In the guest rooms, deluxe amenities such as flat-screen TVs and rain-dome showerheads upstaged anything found in Yellowstone or Yosemite. Despite the modern perks, rawhide lampshades and other rustic details helped my suite retain its frontier appeal. When I got up to pull the plaid drapes closed that night, I watched a horse-drawn sleigh pass by, glowing in the moonlight against the dark ribbon of the frozen Ottawa River.

Without fresh snow to ski the next morning, I was left to explore the lodge’s other activities. I opted out of getting scrubbed with maple sugar at the spa or unsuccessfully flirting with French-Canadian women by the fire, and instead devoted the day to learning the inscrutable rules of curling. The château has an indoor ice rink dedicated to the sport, a national favorite that’s best described as a combination of shuffleboard and falling down a lot. My instructor was Henri, a kindly sexagenarian who, like many in Québec’s western Outaouais region, seemed more comfortable speaking French than English. As it turns out, kindly reassurance sounds the same in either language. But as my backside repeatedly hit the ice, Henri’s patient polyglot insistence that I was doing “une belle job” grew progressively less convincing.

After my rough-and-tumble day, I dined in the white-tablecloth Aux Chantignoles restaurant. Québecois cuisine dominates the menu, and I followed a dinner of tender venison osso buco with a slice of Québec’s famously sweet and jiggly sugar pie—think pecan pie sans pecans. Snow fell just in time for me to ski through the nearby forest on my last day. I spent a long afternoon there, gliding among stands of birch, pine, and spruce in the rolling Laurentian Highlands. Now and again, I paused to admire one of the countless frozen lakes, their smooth surfaces dotted with tracks left by moose and white-tailed deer. I skied in the silent wilderness until just after sunset. As the scent of a wood fire began to tickle my nose, I grew eager to cozy up by the hearth again. I turned back toward the château’s stone chimney, its rising plume of smoke signaling for my return.
This appeared in the November/December 2010 issue.

Berlin is surrounded by lakes, and the star of the show is undoubtedly the Wannsee. Its waters lap at the Grunewald Forest and are dotted with yachting clubs and interesting cultural sights such as the House of the Wannsee Conference (where the Nazis planned the Final Solution) and the former villa of impressionist painter Max Liebermann, which exhibits his work and has a lovely garden café overlooking the lake. Nearby is the Pfaueninsel (Peacock Island), a former royal playground that’s now a pleasant park accessible by ferry. The most popular destination in summer, though, is the Strandbad Wannsee, a half-mile-long sandy beach jam-packed with locals and visitors.

The town of Stromboli, the main settlement on the island, sits at the foot of the volcano overlooking Strombolicchio. Its gleaming white buildings surround the dome of a small church, Chiesa di San Vincenzo. The town is fronted by a stretch of volcanic beach where local fishermen haul out their boats on the coarse black sand.

Just to the southwest of Tucson, on the San Xavier Reservation, sits the late XVIII-century Mission San Xavier del Bac, one of the finest examples of Spanish colonial architecture in the U.S. The combination of late Baroque and Moorish-inspired design is a beacon any time of the year, but on this winter day, the flooded fields worked some magic—panoramas of reflected landscapes are almost nonexistent in southern Arizona! The ‘white dove of the desert’ is the oldest intact European structure in Arizona, and it still serves as a parish church for the Tohono O’odham people.

Buenos Aires is a city of readers—it supports more bookstores per capita than any other place in the world. The crown jewel of the librerías here is the Ateneo Grand Splendid. Housed in a theater where music legends such as Carlos Gardel once attracted vast crowds, the store features shelf after shelf of tempting volumes on its rounded balconies. Italian frescoes on the domed ceiling and plush red-velvet curtains are from the theater’s original 1919 design. The four-story space carries over 120,000 books and a local-music selection, and there’s a café on the erstwhile stage.