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After more than 15 years atop Boston’s fine-dining scene, Barbara Lynch’s No. 9 Park may be familiar, but never ordinary. Facing the Boston Common, this restaurant is split between a dress-to-impress bar where Beacon Hill pols gather for after-work cocktails and a dining room favored for special-occasion gatherings, from proposals and wedding anniversaries to Harvard-graduation celebrations. Expect an expertly designed Cat Silirie wine list and elegant French-Italian cuisine (the foie-gras-and-prune-puree-filled gnocchi is guaranteed to please, and go with the steak frites if you’re dining at the bar), with an atmosphere to match.

Iconic chef Roy Yamaguchi helped popularize Hawaiian-fusion food a generation ago, but at Eating House 1849 he takes a delicious detour with dishes inspired by Portuguese, Spanish, and Filipino flavors. This “plantation cuisine” evokes the immigrant dishes served in the mid-1800s, when the state’s first restaurant—a Honolulu establishment called Eating House—opened (according to legend). Yamaguchi brings some serious chops to the table: He trained at the Culinary Institute of America before serving as executive chef in Los Angeles‘s La Serene and winning a James Beard Award. The menu shifts seasonally, according to what farmers, foragers, ranchers, and fishermen produce. Expect delicacies like a beef-and-wild-boar burger and pork lumpia with green papaya. Cap it all off with cinnamon-dusted malasadas (Portuguese doughnuts) with Koloa Rum sauce!

The longest lines in the city form every day at Café Medina, a haven of Mediterranean-inspired breakfast, lunch, and weekend brunch dishes in the Library District. The decor here feels like a minimalist version of 1920s Paris, with aged walls, mismatched light fixtures, and a mosaic entranceway. Equally charming, the eclectic bistro fare ranges from pistachio-rosewater Belgian waffles to halloumi couscous and a harissa burger, spiked with preserved lemon and tucked into a pita with baba ghanoush and two fried eggs. Don’t miss the blistered flatbread, ideally paired with the honey-black-pepper mascarpone side. And finish with a lavender latte, a house-made turmeric soda, or a superb craft cocktail. If you don’t want to wait, skirt the crowds by visiting Tuesdays or Wednesdays for lunch, or arriving at 2 p.m. (an hour before last call).

Most of the year, Punta Cana’s white, sandy stretches of sand are blessed with gently lapping surf, which means that night swimming isn’t as dangerous or daunting an exercise as it can be on other Caribbean islands. Slip into the water near the Westin’s covered pier, and have the ocean all to yourself. Under the bright light of a full moon, you might even catch a glimpse of a sea turtle inching its way along the beach.

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.

Few places in North America are anchored in a heritage like the Pueblo of Taos. This is the longest inhabited living arrangement in the US. The Pueblo still has ten families of around 150 native people working to maintain the culture and the adobe architecture for generations to come. A living artifact, the past and present form a delicate harmony to produce a unique travel experience. The environment says a lot about the sustainability of this community. Tucked up against the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, with the Rio flowing through the center of the Pueblo, the inhabitants have maintained their lifestyle through wars, disease, cultural genocide and environmental impact to survive. From the efficiency of their adobe walls to provide comfort against extreme heat and cold, to the guiding wisdom of elders to keep the Pueblo vibrant, the way of life preserved within these walls is a testament to the strength and vision of native people, connected to this land with over a thousand years of tradition.

Standing out in San Francisco‘s Marina District, this historic landmark is a leftover from the 1915 Pan-Pacific International Expo and was designed by Bernard R. Maybeck, a student of the École des Beaux-Arts. His vision was to give the impression of ancient Roman ruins. When the fair concluded, the Palace of Fine Arts proved too beautiful to raze. Maybeck had intended the Palace to fall into ruins (in keeping with his original vision), and it did for years. It was used as a storage depot after World War II and as a warehouse for the Parks Department. In the late 1950s, a local city official led an effort to face-lift the building. The Palace of Fine Arts was rebuilt and is now enjoyed by visitors who walk beneath the towering colonnade and the grand rotunda.

For decades, the Moorten Botanical Garden and Cactarium operated quietly, visitors referred by word of mouth for strolls through the family-owned one-acre grounds. Then Instagram happened. Thanks to social media, this collection of exotic desert plants, succulents, and crystals dating to the 1930s now sees hundreds of people per day. The second-generation members of the Moorten family, who still manage the garden, make sure the grounds are impeccable. There’s plenty to see year-round—the garden is open daily, except Wednesdays—but the best time to visit is in April to late August, when you’ll find it abloom. Tours led by master gardeners several times daily reveal the fascinating stories behind the plants; desert shrubs, succulents, and garden supplies are also for sale. Whether you believe it’s from the crystals or not, the place is charged with positivity and peace. Pro tips: Arrive early to nab a shaded table for a bring-your-own picnic. And if you run into proprietor Clark Moorten, ask him about his childhood trips through Central and South America in search of specimens for the collection.

A church—or, at least, a small chapel—has stood on the site of the Basilica of Notre-Dame since shortly after Ville-Marie (Montréal’s predecessor) was founded in 1642. The current building, however, dates to 1829 and was constructed in a soaring Gothic Revival style. At the time, that aesthetic choice raised some eyebrows—Gothic designs were associated more with Protestant churches than Roman Catholic ones. (Perhaps the fact that the architect was an Irish-American Protestant didn’t help the situation.) Whatever initial resistance there was evaporated in the face of the beauty of the completed building. In the decades that followed, Gothic became the popular choice for churches in Canada of every denomination in large part because of Montréal’s basilica. In the 1870s, in what was perhaps a case of gilding the lily, the basilica became even more stunning when its interiors were painted in bright colors to resemble Paris‘s Ste-Chapelle.

The Ravoux Inn (also known as the Maison de Van Gogh) is located in the town of Auvers-sur-Oise, just north of Paris. When Vincent van Gogh lived there for just 3.50 francs a day, Auvers-sur-Oise was already a picturesque village attracting impressionist artists. He spent the last months of his life here, and prolifically and feverishly produced more than 80 paintings in just 70 days. Today there’s a walk [link] around town, with signs showing reproductions of many of his final paintings right in front of the still existing subject matters (churches, walkways, landscapes, etc). The Ravoux Inn has kept its original feel, and and although its a short visit (including a brief film), it’s fascinating to find yourself in Mr. Vincent’s room (as he was known to the inn keepers). OPEN (2017): March 1st – October 29th Wed – Sun 10am - 6pm FEES Adults: - 6€ (no preferential rate) - 4€ (handicapped) Children: - 12 to 17 years: 4€ - Under 12: free Lunch and dinner is served as well, from 1st March to 26 November: Lunch: Wednesday – Sunday: 12:00pm to 14:15pm Dinner: Fridays and Saturdays only 7:30 to 9:00pm >>>Warm thanks to my lovely friends at AmaWaterways for an unforgettable river cruise on the Seine from Paris to Normandy. My visit to Auvers–sur–Oise and the Maison de Van Gogh was one of many excursions available daily at no additional cost. Great concept, AmaWaterways!

Long considered one of the top hotels on Oahu, the Kahala has always been a particular favorite among the type of guests who travel with their own security detail. A number of past U.S. presidents, plus kings, queens, princesses Grace and Di, a handful of Nobel Peace Prize winners, rock stars, and movie stars, all have slept under its venerable roof at some point during the hotel’s 50-year history. The see-and-be-seen set moved on long ago, but privacy seekers still make a beeline here. They’re drawn less by the property’s fabulous beach (though that’s reason enough to stay here) than by its exclusive location—in a well-fortified cul-de-sac in the ritzy Kahala neighborhood. But there’s a warm and fuzzy side to the hotel, too. A pod of dolphins has full-time residency in the hotel lagoon, and visitors of all ages can swim with them (for a fairly steep fee). Rooms have a preppy beach house vibe—raffia ceiling fans, linen loveseats—and many come with heart-stopping sea views.

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.

Whatever your tastes, we bet you won’t head home empty-handed from Nanjing Road, one of the world’s busiest shopping promenades. Stores along the tree-lined, pedestrian-only section stock everything from state-of-the-art electronics to silk scarves at a fraction of Western prices. But it’s also worth detouring into the side streets, where you may stumble upon market stalls of fresh fish and produce, teahouses doling out dumplings and hot cups of oolong, and cats lazing in slices of sunlight. Photo by Vikkies//Flicker.

A Philly must-do list should include a stop at the bronze Rocky statue (commissioned by Sylvester Stallone for Rocky III and reluctantly erected in its current place by the Philadelphia Museum of Art), a Rocky-inspired run (or walk) up the steps, and, of course, a visit inside the legendary institution itself. The impressive collection includes holdings from the medieval period to the present, with art and sculpture dating back as far as the Renaissance, and one of the finest collections of American art in the country. Popular galleries include ones devoted to Asian works, Impressionism, photography, and costumes and textiles. Not interested in art? You’ll still want to see the arms-and-armor rooms, which display the second-largest collection in the U.S. Devote some time to strolling through the outdoor sculpture garden, or take a shuttle to the nearby Perelman Building galleries. On the first Sunday of each month, the admission fee is pay-what-you-wish.

Life across Polynesia was once defined by ritual power. In many places, chiefs were too sacred to actually look at, and if you helped bury a chief, you’d not be allowed to utilize your hands for nine months or more. The ‘Ārahurahu Marae, a sacred structure of black stone, was built solely for rituals. Nicely restored, the ‘Ārahurahu is set at the foot of a cliff, surrounded by jungle. A trail lined with tikis leads to the three-story marae, which is still in use, revived as part of the Polynesian Renaissance. The marae is worth a visit: Soak up the place to get a feel for a time when this was the island’s heartbeat.