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The stretch of Boulevard Saint-Laurent between Rue Marianne and Avenue Mont-Royal is known as furniture alley, for all the furniture and home appointment stores that exist there. Latitude Nord was among the first to move to the area and remains the best spot to spy cutting-edge contemporary design items like lamps, chairs, rugs and couches. The focus is on European imports, particularly Italian brands like Cassina, Bisazza and Cappellini, but there’s also minimalist American ware from the likes of Emeco (makers of the ubiquitous Navy Chair) and cushy rugs made in Spain by Alpujarreña. The slick showroom is worth visiting even if you don’t intend to buy.

La Virgen de Guadalupe-Our Lady of Guadalupe–is revered by Mexicans, and her image is ubiquitous, found in every form imaginable, from traditional statues to bumper stickers. She also lends her name to any number of businesses and buildings, including the Basilica to which faithful flock–many on their knees or carrying crosses–each December 12. The arrival of the pilgrims is a sight to behold, but so is the basilica, an architectural marvel, which you can visit any time of the year. Completed in 1976, the present basilica is not the first one to have sat on this site; an older one, which needed to be replaced because it was sinking, remains on the grounds and is open to the public after renovation and rehabilitation. The principal architect, Pedro Ramiréz Vázquez, who died in 2013, is responsible for some of the most compelling modern buildings in Mexico City, including Estadio Azteca and the National Anthropology Museum, as well as a number of buildings throughout the country and abroad.

This unique concept store is crammed with distinctively Cambodian objects, from vintage shop signs typically found in rural Cambodia to hand-crafted wooden ox and buffalo carved by a farmer discovered by the owners of trunkh, art director and designer Douglas Gordon and Marianne Waller. Expect kitschy tea-towels featuring iconic symbols and sights, such as Angkor Wat, to quirky fish-printed travel pillows and Christmas stockings in the shape of elephant trunks. All the Cambodian made products are either found or designed by the owners or sourced locally. The shop is located on gritty albeit increasingly hip Hap Guan Street in an emerging shopping, drinking and eating area the local business owners have branded Kandal Village. It’s one of my favorite Siem Reap spots and despite its compact size you can while away hours here.

Step into a little slice of Santa Fe bliss at the BODY of Santa Fe which functions as a multi-purpose yoga studio, spa, shop with organic clothes, and vegan cafe with raw options (try the green juice, chocanana smoothie, or ginger tea) for an optimal calming and healthful experience.

The Hotel St. Francis lays claim to being Santa Fe’s oldest hotel. Rebuilt in its current location in 1924, after a fire left its predecessor completely ravaged (save the brick chimney), the property formerly known as the De Vargas Hotel played host to elegant ladies and gentlemen in top hats, politicos, and other VIPs during its heyday. After World War II, the hotel lost some of its luster, though it was still popular with government types until the 1960s. In 1986, new owners restored the hotel to its previous grandeur, replaced the barber and beauty shops with a restaurant and bar, and gave the property its current name. Most recently, in 2008, the property was purchased by Heritage Hotels and Resorts and underwent yet another makeover. Inspired by St. Francis, the patron saint of Santa Fe and founder of the Franciscan order, the look is best described as haute-monastic. Think Frette linens and flat-screen televisions paired with neutral hues, wood furnishings crafted by local artisans, and dim, candlelit common spaces.

I’m not sure at what age humans develop the skill to stand still and appreciate scenery, but based on a scientific survey of kids who live in my house, it’s not age seven. (On a trip to the Canadian Rockies, as my wife and I snapped photos of the relentlessly picturesque mountains, my son, Luke, investigated how quickly he could break his toy helicopter.) Luke expects Mother Nature to be his playmate. At Bandelier National Monument, about an hour’s drive from Santa Fe, New Mexico, she is. The visitor center offers kids a booklet of activities that, when completed, earn them a Junior Ranger patch. (You could call it a bribe. We prefer the term incentive.) The scavenger hunt sent us off on the Main Loop Trail in search of birds, trees, and bugs, as well as the feature that sets Bandelier apart and makes it perfect for kids: cave dwellings. Ladders of salvaged wood lead to rooms that the Pueblo people carved out of the cliffs here over 800 years ago. “I don’t want to go up, Daddy,” Luke said. “It’s too steep.” “You’ve got this, buddy,” I said. “Just take it slow.” There were no lines of impatient parents pushing their children to race up the ladder. (We saw no more than 20 people on the trail.) Luke could climb the rungs at his own pace. He paused in triumph at the top, then set off to wander the caves. While Mom and Dad squatted—“Watch out for your bald head, Daddy”—Luke could explore without even hunching. After about 45 minutes, we were walking back toward the visitor center. We crossed a nearly dry creek by hopping hand in hand from one downed log to another and were back in time for lunch, before hunger, fatigue, or boredom could set in. It was a parent’s—and child’s—dream hike. This appeared in the August/September 2014 issue.

The wording is irresistible: “Get a taste of history.” On the grounds of one of the oldest Spanish missions (est. 1691) in Arizona, tortillas cooked over a mesquite fire, in the shade of mesquite trees, steps from an adobe church--this is Tumacácori. Drive about an hour south of Tucson. Just 20 miles from the Mexican border, this mission/Nat’l Historical Park was originally established by the Jesuits. The remaining structure (surprisingly intact) dates from the early 19th century, when Franciscans and the native Tohono O’odham stacked some ninety thousand adobe bricks together to build their church. Spaniards and Basques settled the Santa Cruz River valley, missionaries brought fruit trees and foreign religion...After the Colonial period, support from the government in Mexico dwindled, Apache attacks increased, and by the 1850’s, when the U.S. acquired this territory, the mission had been abandoned. Tortillas are made outdoors most weekends fall through spring; call ahead to confirm. (520-398-234) [pronunciation note--Tumacacácori: “too-mah-KAH-koh-ree”]

Semana Santa (Holy Week) in Oaxaca is generally made up of rather somber events. In contrast with other holidays, this is the most serious, much more so than Day of the Dead, which is often celebrated in a lighthearted way. The gravity of the events being commemorated are reflected in the observances that take place during this week. The Friday before Easter, which is the day that commemorates Jesus’ crucifixion, is marked by a silent procession along the main pedestrian street in Oaxaca, Calle Macedonio Alcalá. The procession takes place in the late afternoon, and winds its way through the city streets. Observers are asked to remain silent in order to maintain the solemnity of the event. You will notice that some of the participants in this procession wear the pointed hoods which in the United States are strongly associated with the Ku Klux Klan and seen as a racist symbol. In Mexico, as in Spain where these hoods originated (long before the existence of the Klan), they are seen as a symbol of penitence; they are meant to hide the identity of the wearer so that their participation in the procession is not done for show, but as a personal expression of repentance.

The work exhibited in this progressive and edgy nonprofit space is a far cry from the art in the galleries along Canyon Road. SITE Santa Fe, which opened in 1995, hosts provocative biennials as well as a wealth of multimedia productions and notable international and contemporary art exhibits. After the building’s striking renovation and expansion (by the New York–based design firm SHoP Architects), its dramatic new glass facade sits beneath a triangular front, welcoming visitors inside.

To cure what ails, stretch it out. For all levels and ages, Santa Fe’s light-filled Blue Moon Hot Yoga (hot, but not reaching the temperature levels of Bikram yoga) is a perfect place to sweat. Try their 90-minute Hot Vinyasa Flow class, a series of postures working on breath, flexibility, and strength. Namaste

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.

“Dude” is a word that’s used a lot around Rancho Pescadero, a small hotel in the surfing town of Todos Santos, located in the Mexican state of Baja California. The rooms here, however, don’t reflect the dude aesthetic, which is to say they are clean and classy. Spacious suites offer comfortable spots to relax, with most having retractable glass doors that eliminate barriers between indoors and outdoors and open up onto terraces that have hammocks or lounge beds. Terra-cotta tile floors, rattan and wood furniture, and locally made accents—such as hand-embroidered throw pillows—are some of the decor elements found in rooms. Surfers won’t feel totally out of their element, though; world-famous breaks are less than 10 minutes away and staff can give pointers on the best spots to hang ten. Apart from surfing, the hotel encourages guests to spend a lot of time relaxing and immersing themselves in the laid-back Baja lifestyle.

Located on the historic Plaza, this venerable well-curated mainstay gallery-shop (est. 1984) run by Navajo trader Jed Foutz showcases historic and contemporary Native American wares, including an impressive selection of colorful, labor-intensive Navajo weavings and museumworthy Wide Ruins rugs. Other coveted objects include turquoise jewelry, textiles, pottery, and sculptural baskets alongside a chic vintage-modern clothing line. Regardless of purchases, you will want to tote your camera for the Instagrammable works in the gallery.

No one quite remembers when the hipsters started flooding into what is still a rather Kiwanis-club-style banquet hall for Mexico’s Spanish community, but they’re here to stay. Arts and media types, often in large, vociferous groups, favor the ground-floor cantina—a wide-open, too-brightly-lit space featuring a fabulous midcentury bar—where they rub elbows with domino-slamming old-timers. Yes, drinking is the big idea, but the menu of old-school Spanish fare (tortilla omelettes, croquetas, seafood, and pork dishes) is entirely serviceable, particularly after midnight when attendance peaks (it’s said it only closes after everyone clears out, almost always in the wee hours). Everyone who’s anyone claims to be “over” Covadonga, yet there they are, nightly, cutting up with beloved friends; keep your eyes peeled for genius writers you wouldn’t recognize anyway.

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.