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A trio of 1830s townhouses, Soniat House exudes an Old World elegance, from its wrought iron balconies to its white-jacketed porters. Rooms and suites have just the right amount of character so that they feel of an era without being precious or overly frilly. The hotel renovated all of its bathrooms and some guest rooms, and there are flat-screen televisions, Wi-Fi, and other modern conveniences—but the point here is really to take a step back, put your gadgets away, and enjoy the leafy courtyard. It’s the kind of place where you feel you ought to be wearing a frock and a fascinator (for ladies) or seersucker (for the gents), where time slows and an afternoon cocktail feels very appropriate. Luckily, there’s an honor bar on the first floor next to reception. Pour yourself a stiff drink and take it up to the veranda, where you might catch a ghost tour in progress or just take in the street scene.

Few restaurants more than 150 years old can be called trendy, but in innovation-crazy San Francisco, there is novelty in the classics, and Tadich Grill is the classic. The late Chronicle columnist and unabashed San Francisco-lover Herb Caen was also a frequent visitor. There’s a martini named after him, made with vodka, or as he called it, Vitamin V. The serious nature of the restaurant’s wood paneling, brass fixtures, and waiters in starched white aprons is matched by the food. No need to tinker with classic recipes for fried sand dabs or crab Louie, and the oysters and Hangtown fry are fine the way they have always been. The cioppino is by far the most popular dish on the menu, with about 27,000 bowls dished out a year. People come to Tadich Grill because they know what they’re getting: friendly service, great seafood, and a taste of San Francisco itself.

The line for burgers and fries at Gott’s Roadside (formerly Taylor’s Refresher and don’t you forget it) in St. Helena can be ridiculous in the afternoon, but if you go in the morning, you’ll have your choice of picnic tables—either in front where you can watch the morning traffic funnel into town or on the grassy lawn out back. From the simple egg and cheese to a fried chicken mess nicknamed the Paula Deen, Gott’s may have the best egg sandwich in the Valley (although, granted, there isn’t a lot of competition). Plus, a Trumer Pilsner makes a great breakfast beer.

I could have spent days at Camden Market! There’s loads to see and something for everyone. My favourite find from Camden is an awesome nautical style rockabilly dress (which I saved £10 on :). I also ate the most epic burrito of my life in Camden. It was heavenly.

Besides Poás’s impressive volcano, this beautiful region is home to cozy down-home restaurants. One standout is Freddo Fresas, named for the strawberries (fresas) that constitute the region’s principal crop. Diners here enjoy tasting local specialties such as hand-thrown tortillas, chorreadas (a sweet-corn pancake iteration), tamales, bean empanadas, and other rustic yummies. Their strawberry-based desserts—fashioned from fruit just picked from the restaurant’s garden—are a must. Never too acidic or overly sweet, the perfect berries are like nothing you can get at your hometown supermarket. Try fresh strawberry juice or eat the fruit in the Costa Rican mode, i.e., with condensed milk or melted chocolate.

Here you’ll find all manner of steaks and chops, sides and beverages, but if you’re looking for the ultimate Brazilian cut, ask for a picanha ao braseiro, a two-person portion, seared on both sides in its own juices (let them know if you need it more well-done). It comes with fried potatoes (best served à portuguesa, i.e., round and crunchy), broccoli-rice salad and farofa (manioc meal) plus bananas and a (you guessed it) fried egg. It’s the kind of celebration that calls for free-flowing beer. Even when you’re satiated, leave room for dessert: fried plantain and sweet-cream ice. Look around to see the line is as long as when you arrived—now it all makes sense.

From the luxury Oetker Collection, Le Bristol is one of the first hotels in France to obtain Palace distinction. Occupying nearly an entire block on Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré near the Élysée presidential palace, this soulful property has been a gathering place for Parisians since 1925. The 190 guest rooms, which feel like private apartments, are decorated with precious fabrics, paintings, and 18th-century antiques. The on-site attractions include a spa by Le Prairie, a teak-lined pool resembling a yacht, and a courtyard garden fragrant with jasmine. For more than a decade, chef Eric Frechon has held three Michelin stars at Epicure, where menu fixtures include the macaroni stuffed with black truffle and foie gras. Frechon’s culinary dominions are a portal into French gastronomy itself: The hotel has its own chocolate factory, cheese cellar, flour mill, and boulangerie.

This picturesque street in one of Paris’s poshest quartiers is dotted with gourmet sweet shops. Beginning at the eponymous Rue du Bac metro station, Chapon offers decadent taste-tests of single-estate chocolate mousses. On the next corner, Jacques Genin sells mouthwateringly good caramels along with his famous chocolate treats. The shops Des Gâteaux et du Pain and La Pâtisserie des Rêves also sell sweets, but this time they’re enveloped in a pastry delivery system. Le Bac à Glaces tries another sugary route: It scoops out the city’s most infamous dark chocolate sorbet. End the stroll at the gourmet temple La Grande Epicerie de Paris, a grocery store filled with more unforgettable tastes of Paris to tuck in your bag and take home.

Tucked away in the heart of downtown Seoul is the quaint Insadong district, where a Korea of yore comes to life in the form of traditional artists and musicians, shops selling Korean crafts and souvenirs, and street performers dressed in native costumes. This is the place to go if you’re set on buying the wooden masks, paper lanterns, and tea sets that the country is famous for. Two other stores also stand out from the crowd in Insadong: Gounjae Handcraft can be smelled before you even enter the door. This handmade soap shop, in the small brick courtyard of Ssamji Gil Center, offers sumptuously scented soaps, lotions, and bath products in scents like avocado, ginger, and almond. I love the tiny, traditional mask-shaped soaps that make inexpensive and lightweight souvenirs. The Ee Gee boutique is a veritable treasure chest bursting with glimmering necklaces, bracelets, and other one-of-a-kind baubles–it’s located on Insadong’s main drag.

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.

Since 1862, fresh flowers and plants have arrived by barge from the Dutch countryside to Amsterdam. While this assemblage of flora still shows up daily, it comes by van, not boat, to the Bloemenmarkt, the world’s only floating flower market. Here, you can browse 15 fragrant stalls on houseboats permanently moored on the Singel. Now the best-known flower market in Holland, this colorful attraction is packed with tourists on sunny weekends. Still, it’s a great place to pick up Dutch tulip bulbs in a plethora of shades and varieties, as well as many other types of bulbs, seeds, cut blooms, and houseplants. Ship a bag of bulbs home, or grab a souvenir at one of several shops hawking T-shirts, mugs, clogs, Dutch cheese, and other fun and inexpensive gifts.

Skiers and visitors who think fondue and raclette are the best expressions of Switzerland’s melted-cheese cuisine will be surprised when they taste their first Käseschnitte (called croûte au fromage in French-speaking Switzerland). This soul-satisfying, open-faced, broiled-cheese sandwich is usually laden with bacon or ham and topped with perfectly bronzed cheese or a cheesy cream sauce before being garnished with cool pickled cukes and cocktail onions. Cabane du Mont-Fort, a self-serve kiosk located in a 1920s stone Alpine hut on the slopes of Verbier at Les 4 Vallées (Switzerland’s largest ski resort), has the best in the country, not to mention stunning views of Mont Blanc from its outdoor picnic tables. Don’t expect fawning or fast service, but you can count on a thick slice of bread anchored by a slab of melted cheese, marbled sweet and smoky bacon, and a few tomato wedges to offset the fatty richness.

Take your place in line, check the street sign to see what the flavors of the week are (or send somebody up to the shop door to take a peek), and start planning your order. Most of Wild Scoops’ ice creams are made with locally sourced ingredients. Even Alaska-made potato chips make an appearance. Are you a fan of coffee ice cream? Then don’t even play around. Order up a coffee ice cream baked Alaska. They’ll fill a freshly made waffle cone with the sweet cold joy, swirl marshmallow on top, and hit it with a mini blowtorch. You’ll be back for more the next day.

Zurich’s Old Town has one foot firmly in the past and the other very much at the forefront of Swiss culture. Wandering through the pedestrian-only cobbled streets of the Altstadt (which you can do for hours!), you’ll find Switzerland‘s highest concentration of clubs, as well as theatres, comedy troupes, street performers and young fashion designers selling their wares in small, elegant shops on medieval streets. Landmarks include the Grossmünster’s double towers, built by Charlemagne, and the Peterskirche, which has the distinction of being the church with Europe’s largest clockface. Don’t miss Limmatquai, along the Limmat River, one of Zurich‘s most thronged shopping sites where restaurants and shops are housed in Baroque gilded houses from the 1700s, something like the canalside houses of Amsterdam. It’s a great place to actually walk into the past and have the vibrant present all around you! Check out the Artistry and Craftsmanship itinerary to Switzerland, created by Bob Preston of Swiss Panache, on AFAR Journeys.

Everyone who visits Santa Fe walks along the famed Canyon Road. Originating as an old footpath that once accessed water, it now primarily showcases an expansive range of shops and galleries with Native American art and landscape paintings. A stroll is not complete without a stop at one of the award-winning restaurants, a la Geronimo and the Compound.