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Spend some time on Museum Hill visiting the Museum of International Folk Art with its awesome Alexander Girard collection, the Wheelwright Museum of the American Indian and its stocked basement trading post of Native American wares, and the Museum of Indian Arts and Culture. Unlike museum gift shops that sell replicas of artworks or mass-produced souvenirs, the museum shops here often carry original works of art for sale, so buying here can make you a collector, too. After all that culture, you’ll be famished, so swing by the Museum Hill Cafe for a light snack.

To get from Albuquerque to Santa Fe, don’t take I-25 North--it’s busy and sterile. Drive east on I-40 to the backside of the Sandía Mountains, get off on exit 175, and head north on Highway 14, also known as “The Turquoise Trail.” You’ll wind through forest to plateau, through mining towns and old Spanish land grants. Halfway to Santa Fe you’ll come to Madrid. (Note--do NOT pronounce it the way you would the capital of Spain; here it’s “MAD-rid.”) In the early 20th-c., some four thousand people lived here; by WWII it had become a ghost town when the local coal demand dropped. By the 1970’s the town began to be reoccupied--artists moved in, galleries set up...it claims to have more artists per capita than any other town in the country. (The population is around 400.) And in 2006, the town served as the set for the John Travolta film “Wild Hogs.” Driving in from the south, you’ll note the brightly painted houses; just after the highway curves, find a place to park among the motorcycles and grab a coffee at Java Junction (they have a B&B upstairs)--their motto: “Bad Coffee sucks.” The morning I stopped here, the café had a welcome sign in German; some Mercedes businessmen were having a road-trip meeting...Madrid is alive and well.

Part of Museum Hill, the Wheelwright, founded in 1937 by Mary Cabot Wheelwright, is a small private museum with a stellar collection of pottery, sculpture, baskets, weavings, and historic and contemporary works by Native American artists. The hidden gem remains the lower-level Case Trading Post with a fantastic selection of jewelry, kachina dolls, weavings, and pottery from over 200 Native American artists.

The elegant, grown-up Compound Restaurant on Santa Fe’s Canyon Road caters to devoted locals and tourists alike with a Southwestern-meets-Mediterranean focus. James Beard Award–winning chef Mark Kiffin scores with entrées like roasted rack of lamb, salmon with crispy pancetta, and wild mushrooms with organic stone-ground polenta. At lunch, the bar menu is less pricey and offers a chance to sample the famed Compound Burger, made with local Lone Mountain Ranch Wagyu beef, and wash it down with a cold beer. Even with the fantastic cuisine, the best parts of this white tablecloth and custom furniture institution remain the clean adobe arches and folk-art decor created by artist Alexander Girard.

JK Place Firenze is a far cry from Florence’s obsession with all things Renaissance. Set amid the buzz of Piazza di Santa Maria Novella, this onetime private mansion is decked out in black, white, peach, gray, and chrome, with inflections of 1950s movie stars, 1970s pop art, and ornate 19th-century architecture. The reception feels like a library, and the breakfast room is a glassed-over former courtyard with a hefty antique wooden communal table. Free drinks, fresh fruit, and homemade treats (and bubbles at cocktail hour) can be found at all hours in the guests-only lounge area. Impress your well-heeled friends by inviting them to dine on the piazza terrace, presided over by the appropriately black-and-white Basilica di Santa Maria Novella, before moving downstairs to the clubby J.K. Pink Room. Slip upstairs to your individually designed room for a divine night’s sleep, then awake ready to take on one of the world’s most historic cities.

Contrary to popular belief, you don’t have to go all the way to Japan to stay at a traditional Japanese ryokan and experience the restorative spa experience of an onsen, or hot springs bath resort. Just 15 minutes from the cultural heart of downtown Santa Fe, Ten Thousand Waves’ 20 sprawling acres are home to one of the United States’ most distinctive and luxurious spa retreats. The nine hot baths are truly restorative, and the spa’s many Japanese-inspired treatments are as pampering and healing as at any top spa. Ten Thousand Waves keeps with the Japanese tradition of baths as a place for fun and socializing, making it especially popular with groups of friends. The festive atmosphere extends to the inn’s izakaya, which serves traditional Japanese cuisine from local ingredients (in other words, no sushi). Each of the 13 cottages draws on nature in its serene aesthetic, with clean lines, natural wood, and traditional artwork, in addition to all the requisite modern luxuries.

Ciudad Perdida (or “lost city”) is believed to have been a political and spiritual center for the people that inhabited the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta highlands around 800 C.E. Treasure hunters “discovered” the complex in the 1970s and plundered its ceremonial artifacts. The subsequent arrival of archaeologists and anthropologists failed to turn up the site’s true origins with any certainty, but indigenous Arhuaco and Kogui people believe it was a sacred city. It seems to have been abandoned around the same time the Spaniards arrived. Today’s visitors can still see a network of 169 terraces carved into the mountainside, overlooking the Buritaca River. The city can be experienced two different ways—choose to hike in (a four-to-six-day guided trip) or to fly over on a helicopter tour (though note that aircraft are not permitted to land).

Some visitors to Santa Fe are surprised to find this Gothic revival structure in the middle of all of the adobe buildings in the historic district, like a piece of medieval Paris transplanted to the Wild West. The French connection is real—the 19th-century Loretto Chapel was designed by a French architect who modeled it after La Sainte Chapelle in Paris. According to legend, though, the plans failed to include access from the chapel floor to the choir loft. So, the nuns who ran the girls’ school for which this stone structure was built began praying, and after nine days, a mysterious carpenter arrived. Neither nails nor glue nor any visible external support were used in this doubly-twisting staircase, and no one ever found out the name of the carpenter, who left without seeking payment. It must’ve been St. Joseph himself...so goes the legend of “the miraculous staircase.” The physics of the structure can be explained by architects today, but that doesn’t stop about a quarter-million visitors every year from marveling at the elegant spruce spiral. Open to the public as a privately run museum, the Loretto Chapel hasn’t been a church for decades. It can, however, be rented: a spectacular setting for a private wedding.

Located 60 miles from Santa Fe, artist Georgia O’Keeffe’s home and studio in Abiquiu is magnificently available just the way she left it. You can almost channel her ghost. Anybody with appreciation for amazing restoration, architecture, gardening, mid-century modern (Florence Knoll, Alexander Gerard), taxidermy, Japanese aesthetic, and landscape will feel at home instantly. Find a few spots that inspired such oil paintings as My Last Door (1952/54). Good to Know: Tours require advance reservations, so plan accordingly, and very sadly, no cameras are allowed.

In the foothills of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains north of Santa Fe, the village of Chimayó has become famous for its adobe church, “El Santuario,” whose side chapel’s dirt floor is reputed to have healing powers. Every Good Friday, tens of thousands of pilgrims make their way to this “Lourdes of the Southwest.” Others descend upon this valley for more temporal reasons. Just down the road from the Santuario is the century-old adobe home that houses the “Rancho de Chimayó,” a New Mexico institution. Owned by the Jaramillo family, this restaurant is known for its carne adovada--pork that has been stewed to tenderness in red chile. You may or may not believe in the power of the dirt in the Santuario’s floor, but the taste of this valley’s chile will have you convinced that the terroir--the taste of place--deserves its venerable reputation. Get the “combinación picante” so that you can sample a tamal, rolled cheese enchilada, beans and posole along with the carne adovada. And don’t use all of your sopaipilla (the steaming square of puffy frybread) to soak up the chile; save a corner so you can douse it with local honey as a dessert... Chimayó is an easy forty-minute-drive from Santa Fe, on “the high road to Taos.” Across the road from the restaurant is a B&B, run by the same family as well.

Santa María del Coro is San Sebastián‘s token beautiful European church. It has the quiet, sunlit beauty that one comes to expect in European churches. It also is the site of several of the city’s unique celebrations, organ concerts, and the iconic San Sebastián, pierced with the famed arrows.

Standing in the Piazza Santa Croce, a statue of Dante looms over the square from the corner. Florence, where Durante degli Alighieri’s journey through hell, purgatory, and paradise was to begin but not end. In 1829 a tomb was built for him in the Basilica of Santa Croce—the largest Franciscan church in the world. The tomb has remained empty ever since as Dante’s body lies in Ravenna.

We visited a special playground designed for children with disabilities run by Familias Especiales. It’s the only playground of its kind in Nicaragua.

At both the Healdsburg location of Flying Goat, just off the square, and the newly renovated Santa Rosa location (shown, with beautiful yellow espresso machines), coffee culture thrives. Beans are sustainably sourced and roasted in Healdsburg. Espresso drinks are capably made. And baked goods are delicious (plus biscuits for the dogs).

Milan is a different city at night, when the inky blue skies and warm orange street lights reflect on the grey facades of the city’s buildings. The architecture- bombastic, monumental and sometimes even modern- is like a page out of Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead.