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For much of its history, the western edges of Manhattan neighborhoods like the West Village and Chelsea consisted of small manufacturing buildings and warehouses that served the piers on the Hudson River. Over time, those factories were replaced with residential developments, and shipping largely moved out to Brooklyn and New Jersey. What remained, however, was an abandoned light-rail line, located above street level. After 10 years of lobbying the city, state, and federal governments, the first section of the High Line park opened in 2009. It now extends for 1.45 miles, from Gansevoort Street in the south to 34th Street at its other end. An innovative design by James Corner Field Operations uses native species to preserve some of the feeling the old rail line had when it was overgrown with weeds. It has quickly become one of New York’s most popular attractions, both with residents and visitors who stroll the length of it, as well as a model for other cities attempting to find new uses for old infrastructure.

Rickshaw rides are common in Chandni Chowk, the vast and crowded market in the Old Delhi quarter, but book a comprehensive rickshaw tour for an immersive experience that lasts longer than 15 minutes. Witness the architectural marvels, multicolored facades, beautifully decorated shops, and the fragrances emanating from the potpourri of eateries that line the historic alleys. The tour covers 20 main sites—palaces, mansions, elegant shrines, and colorful bazaars—and finishes at an 1860 haveli (mansion) where you’ll visit a gallery of photos depicting the lifestyle of Mughals, as well as a small lounge where you can relax and try some typical snacks.

Described by Napoleon as the “Drawing Room of Europe,” Venice’s principal public square is dominated by Saint Mark’s Basilica and the Doge’s Palace—as well as its famous pigeons. Wander the framing porticos, have coffee at Quadri or Florian’s and just take it all in. Even on the most crowded days, there’s a feeling of calm in the eddying whirls of people who gather in this impressive space.

The Arctic Fox Center, tucked away in the tiny Westfjords village of Súðavík, is dedicated to the only land mammal native to Iceland. The nonprofit research institution and exhibition center was set up in 2007 by a group of enthusiasts and scientists to collect all kinds of information about the animal. Located inside a renovated farmstead (one of the oldest buildings in the area), it offers an exhibition that explains that the arctic fox probably arrived in Iceland via ice floes from Greenland, is larger than the European fox, and has a distinctive dark blue summer coat that turns white in winter. The venue also has an on-site café and a couple of orphaned foxes in the backyard.

I’m not one to skip breakfast, especially in Italy, where thoughts of cappuccino, pastries, and local ham tend to rouse me early from slumber. But on my first morning at the Hotel Sant’Angelo, in the old quarter of Matera, I was having a hard time dragging myself from the creature comforts of my cave. Staying in a cave, it turns out, can be surprisingly pleasant. There was just one small window high overhead, but the room and adjoining bath were in no way dank—a testament to the natural ventilation that keeps the caves cool and comfortable. The wavy contours of the white tufa-rock walls conjured a feeling of being enveloped in some primordial womb. Yet there were modern amenities: luxurious linens, Internet service, a telephone. Fred Flintstone never had it this good. I might have snoozed until noon, were it not for an impatient mate eager to see the sights. We had arrived in the village the previous night after a long drive across the treeless plains of the Basilicata region, located at the instep of Italy’s boot. Matera is an enchanted world of Stone Age splendor. Known as the sassi (Italian for stones), the bisque-colored hilltop cave homes comprise one of the oldest continuously inhabited places on earth, according to UNESCO. The caves have provided shelter for more than 7,000 years. A millennium ago, shepherds inhabited them and carved churches into the rock; during the Renaissance, the area prospered and elaborate buildings were carved out, the excess tufa sculpted into ornate facades. By the early 1900s, the sassi had fallen into neglect. Families and their animals crowded into the caves for warmth, and disease was rampant. When writer Carlo Levi brought this tragic state of affairs to light with his 1945 book Christ Stopped At Eboli, the Italian authorities moved residents en masse to modern housing—leaving the sassi abandoned, save for the occasional crew brought by film makers (Pier Paolo Pasolini and Mel Gibson among them) in search of a biblical-looking backdrop. It was only in the 1990s that the Italian government encouraged people to move back. Residents revamped the cave dwellings as homes, restaurants, and inns. When the Sant’Angelo opened in 2004, it was the area’s first luxury hotel. The 19 cave rooms are sparsely but tastefully appointed with rustic wooden furniture. Some carved decorations—crosses, hearts, an owl—date back hundreds of years. Fossilized shells embedded in the walls reveal that the region once lay underwater. Eventually, my fiancé and I did emerge from our cave to wander the town’s ancient alleys. A local guide named Dora Cappiello took us into some of the 150 chiese rupestri (rock churches), where she pointed out wine troughs and frescoes of San Nicola, the patron saint of local shepherds. We also visited a cave dwelling that had been restored to resemble its state when the caves were equal parts manger and living space.
Simple, delicious meals punctuated our explorations. The curvy walls of Baccanti, a cave restaurant, created a private nook where we feasted on silky pappardelle pasta with a cinghiale (wild boar) ragu, accompanied by a dry, fruity red aglianico from the nearby Vulture wine region. Tired and sated after a full day, we headed back to our cave—on moonless nights, a flashlight or trail of bread crumbs is advised for the stumble back to the hotel—where the promise of a deep, sound night’s sleep awaited. —Amy Cortese Hotel Sant’Angelo, 39/0835-314010, from $211 for a double. This appeared in the March/April 2010 issue.

According to Aboriginal legend the Glass House Mountains in Queensland, just inland from the Sunshine Coast, got their shapes after an epic ancient fight amidst the family they belonged too. As such they have held supreme spiritual significance for generations and the story of their creation remains important to this day. Hiking around these 16 ethereally shaped volcanic crags that rise from the humid green environs in sporadic bursts is as stunning as it is sacred. The mountains are part of a national park named after them. There are hiking for all fitness levels, including families. One option is the short, but intense, roundtrip hike to the summit of Mt Ngungun (253m). It has impressive views of the four major peaks and can be a bit challenging hiking – keep the kids close, the steep trail passes close to the cliff line and can be slippery. If you love to scramble up rocks, try climbing Tibrogargan and Beerwah, both hikes require some free base scrambles up loose rock, but are under 2 miles round trip.

Housed on a 1,100-foot stretch of beachfront, Grace Bay Club is as stylishly current as it was in 1993, when it became the first luxury hotel to open on the then nearly empty sands of Grace Bay. From its original 21 rooms, the upscale property has grown to 82 suites, each of which features ocean views, a private veranda or patio, and chic interiors by renowned designer Thom Felicia. Guests can also look forward to superior service, including a personal concierge available day or night via a provided cell phone.

When hunger strikes, there’s the oceanfront Infiniti Restaurant & Raw Bar, which boasts sea-to-table fare and the longest bar in the Caribbean, as well as several other family-friendly venues, including The Grill. If it’s pampering you seek, make time to visit the spacious Anani Spa, where you’ll find six treatment rooms, including one just for couples. A spa tent is also available for beachfront massages.

There’s a comfortable stillness to the acres of Ojai Valley Inn and Spa that’s apparent even when a cacophony of voices fills the air. Sunlight shines brightly against the resort’s white façade, which gleams in unison from the restaurants, accommodations, spa, and pools outstretched on shaded grounds. Flowers – from roses to bougainvillea, lavender to jasmine – line pathways where views of the surrounding rolling mountains peek out between buildings. And even when bicyclists, pedestrians, and the occasional golf carts use those pathways, the motion is as calm and quick as the breeze. Originally built in 1923 as a country club and golf course, the inn has never lost its luxurious appeal for intimate, quiet privacy. Old Hollywood stars have come and gone through its Spanish-style property, and today, the resort is still known as a place where big names can tee off or swim undisturbed. Its more than 300 guest rooms are tucked away in a series of terracotta-topped buildings that share a style of calm blue and white shades. Many rooms feature fireplaces enclosed by a sitting area, and private balconies are scented by the surrounding blooms. In the morning, sip a Keurig coffee from the soft white sheets of bed, or step outside for the view. Then, walk or bike to breakfast before a swim in the newly opened, “adults only” pool.

Australia’s most famous beach has played many roles throughout history. In 1907, a group of local swimmers became the world’s first lifeguards; during World War II, it was fortified by barbed wire and iron stakes; and over the last few decades, it has become a play land for international backpackers. More recently, the bohemian surf hood has morphed into a lively dining and shopping hub, with restaurants ranging from standbys like Sean’s Panaroma to the friendly burger joint Bonditony’s to Italian favorite Da Orazio Pizza and Porchetta, opened by Icebergs Dining Room owner Maurice Terzino. (Don’t miss the pool and sauna at Icebergs either.) Once fed, check in at the QT Hotel, shop along Gould Street, and walk the stunning Bondi to Coogee coastal path.

Anyone can swim in this glorious pool for a mere $5.50. Mon-Fri: 6:00-6:30pm Sat, Sun: 6:30-6:30pm Closed Thursdays.

There’s a different way to see the African wildlife in their natural habitat than a safari and it’s called Boulder Beach. We ventured to the Eastern side of the Peninsula (Indian Ocean) to meet and spend time with the locals, Cape Town‘s penguin colony. Following the wooden boardwalks, you gain access to Foxy Beach, a sheltered cove with soft white sand, crystal clear water, massive granite boulders, and birds in butler-style tailcoats. Its nothing short of an Instagram-worthy photo op but I recommend climbing atop a boulder and spending time to take it all in. It’s impossible to capture how majestic this destination truly is.

If you’re in Madrid and in the mood for tapas, you might not know exactly where to go or what to taste. The Mercado San Miguel (metro Sol) takes away all that decision-making by providing you with a taste experience all under one roof. The old, derelict market was renovated just a few years ago and turned into an upmarket culinary emporium of sorts. It has more than 30 food stalls, each selling something different. My favorite is the bellota ham sold at Carrasco, but there is plenty more. You can sample sherries and Rioja wines at the wine bar, or do as Spaniards do and pick away at tapas as you make your way through the market. I highly recommend the croquettes, or croquetas, in one of the outside alleys: they have ham, chicken, shrimp, cheese and a variety of others. The more standard tapas area easy to find, like tortilla, and seafood is beautifully laid out for you to pick and choose. Right in the middle is my top-rated tapa place. I couldn’t find a name for it but it’s the largest counter, shaped like a U, and has everything from potatoes aioli to steamed razor clams, with everything in-between.

Every once in a while, the sun shines bright in San Francisco and every city residents flocks to the nearest park or beach to soak up the sun and day drink. Baker Beach, in the confines of SF, seems worlds away from city life. The view of the Golden Gate Bridge is spectacular, and the diverse group of Baker Beach visitors is a testament to what a hodge podge San Francisco truly is. Parking can be a pain in the butt; take the 29 bus and save yourself the hassle.

Small enough to get around without being overwhelmed, the Musée d’Orsay is a favorite stop in Paris not just for its size but for its collection of Impressionist, Postimpressionist, and art nouveau art. Perfectly set in the center of the city, on the banks of the Seine, and opposite the Tuileries Gardens, the museum is housed in the former Gare d’Orsay, a railway station that was built for the Universal Exhibition of 1900—so the building itself could be seen as a work of art. The extraordinary collection spans art created in the period between 1848 and 1914.

This dramatic two-tier waterfall, whose name translates as “Golden Falls,” a reference to the shimmering mist that sometimes appears around the falls, is one of Iceland’s most famous—which is saying something in a country abundant with waterfalls. Saved from oblivion during the 1920s (foreign investors wanted to dam the falls to create hydropower), the waterfall lies in a canyon on the Hvítá river and is backed by scenic snowcapped peaks. It’s possible to follow the falls as they flow downstream through the canyon, either via a walking trail or on a rafting trip, though it’s worth noting that the paths are wet and can be slippery. The visitor center has a canteen that serves up surprisingly tasty local dishes like lamb soup; there are also a gift shop and a local exhibition centered around traditional life in the area.

The mysterious rooftop of Casa Mila both charms and haunts visitors. The glorious October sky above frames the organic forms, each sculpted face watching as I creep up and down the rolling ramps. Children can’t resist playing here, and fortunately there are now fences all around. In my mind, I erase all of those pesky safety features to envision the smooth sculptures growing towards the sky from a scrolling sandy field. Once a site for a scene from Star Wars, the rooftop is now a destination for lovers of Barcelona and Antoni Guadi’s “Modernisma” style. When you visit, you’ll learn the secret behind those long vertical faces rising up above the mystical rooftop.