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If you’re a major foodie, or if you just want a romantic dinner night, Veya is one of the best picks on Anguilla. Set above Sandy Ground, this home-turned-restaurant serves up Caribbean fusion food in a Moroccan-style lounge, and outdoors on a veranda. The breeze, the candlelit atmosphere, the live music—not to mention the menu (which the restaurant describes as “cuisine of the sun”)—more than make up for not being directly next to the sea. Expect unusual dishes like Moroccan-spiced shrimp “cigars,” grilled jerk-spiced tuna with a rum-coffee glaze, and risotto with basil goat cheese, or try the five-course chef’s tasting menu. Veya is also known for whipping up the best desserts on Anguilla, and the list of options is long.

Blackbird is a charming pub with oodles of traditional atmosphere in the quiet fishing village of Ballycotton in East Cork. Its secret is the Field Kitchen, a trailer that was lowered into the rear beer garden, which supplies fish and chips, garlic mussels, and monkfish scampi to accompany your pint. The beer garden overlooks the stone ruins of Ballycotton village, and inside, the bar is lit by candles in Jameson bottles, as the pub is very near the home of Jameson Distillery in Midleton.

A more casual alternative to El Tovar Dining Room, the Arizona Room sits directly on the rim of the Grand Canyon and the menu is all about Southwestern specialties: homemade tortilla soup, oven-roasted native squash and heirloom beans, and Arizona-raised prime cuts of meat. The drinks list features local wines from Carlson Creek and Arizona Stronghold Vineyards, as well as lesser-known Grand Canyon State liquors such as Copper City Bourbon (Tempe), Gold Miner Agave Rum (Kingman), and Thumb Butte Vodka (Prescott).

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.

Nestled on Frigate Bay, this casual restaurant has fine-dining aspirations. Here, you can enjoy freshly caught lobster in any number of ways—grilled, in a bisque, or dressed up as Lobster Thermidor, just to name a few. If you’re not in the mood for shellfish, try the lionfish (eat one and you’ll be helping to eliminate the invasive species from the local reefs), the steak (made with Angus beef), or the tapas, which range from breaded chicken strips to garlic shrimp.

Hauz Khas Social can be considered a social space or a social experiment. Either way, this is perhaps one of the best drinking spots in Delhi. Social is a unique concept that unites a cafe, office space, and nightclub. The identity depends on the time of day, though the crowds pounce in the evening hours. Enjoy the lake views while sipping on “Two Lost Souls Swimming in a Fish Bowl” or “Trip on the Drip.”

Ladakh, a region in the Indian Himalayas an hour’s flight north of Delhi (elevation: 11,500 feet), became a lot more accessible 10 years ago when Shakti Himalaya started hosting homestays in restored village houses. Their spacious new four-bedroom Shakti Indus River House and the three-bedroom Indus Farmhouse are well-appointed bases for families or groups looking to spend a week meditating with monks, white-water rafting, and hiking to nearby villages and monasteries.

Started by two friends who met at a bar, Telluride Brewing Company has come a long way since its founding in 2011. Its Face Down Brown ale took home the gold medal at the 2012 and 2014 Great American Beer Festival, and its Whacked Out Wheat beer recently won silver at the 2018 World Beer Cup Awards. Only available in Colorado, all the brews here have cheeky names. Stop by the tasting room to sample everything from the Freaky Fish Belgian double IPA to the Ski-in-Ski-Stout.

Set on a village site that dates back a thousand years, this park aims to show visitors what life was like on Guam 500 years ago, when the Chamorro had the island to themselves. Walk through a small botanical park to the re-created village. What’s most interesting is the specialization: a cooking house, a men’s house (common in Micronesia), even a house for the sick. And, of course, the biggest house of all was the chief’s. The park offers an excellent introduction to the Guam that existed before the Spanish arrived.

Let the Urubamba River set your course during a thrilling rafting adventure along the Ollantaytambo rapids, available through the Belmond. The river helped form what is now the Sacred Valley, and along the way you’ll not only sense its power, but also get a feel for some less visited corners of the region it created. You’ll pass towering eucalyptus trees and the ruins of Inca terraces and more as you make your way down river, ending with a picnic lunch before returning to the hotel by car. Photo by Rod Waddington/Flickr.

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.

We arranged a private tour of the Mekong River Delta through the Park Hyatt Saigon. We were driven from the hotel to Cai Be in a Cadillac with snacks and drinks, then escorted to our private river boat (also loaded with fresh fruit, coffee and tea, and other snacks). Our english-speaking tour guide brought us onto a small rowed boat through the smaller channels of the delta, explaining local life and the various trades of the people who live there. We saw a floating market and had lunch at Mr. Kiet’s historic house. Highly recommend spending the morning and afternoon on this tour.

Kompong Phluk is a floating village located in the middle of Cambodia‘s largest lake, Tonle Sap. The term “floating” is a bit misleading: the houses are actually built on very tall stilts around 8 meters high. During the rainy season, the lake rises and covers the stilts, giving the illusion that the homes are floating in the water. We learned that these types of villages are built in the middle of the lake to make it easier for fishermen and rice farmers to gather during harvest season.

The ancient Greeks called Folegandros “iron hard,” but this Cycladic island has a mellow soul beneath its edges. The northern part is the wildest, where locals still scrabble a living making cheese from their goats, threshing grain with mules, and fishing off translucent bays. At homestead tavernas (like Eirini’s grocery-cum-eatery in Ano Meria), the owners rear or grow everything they serve. The main village, Chora, is huddled on a cliff 650 feet above the sea, but the emerald water below is so clear you can count the fish swimming by. The tangle of lanes all lead to three interlocked squares lined with tavernas and bite-size bars, where evenings drift by as you drink shots of rakomelo (warm grappa with honey).

Bright Angel Trail was turned over to the National Park Service in 1928, but its history in the Grand Canyon goes back thousands of years as a natural route navigated by the region’s American Indians to reach the inner canyon. Today it’s one of the most popular Grand Canyon hikes and often is combined with the South Kaibab Trail for a longer excursion. Bright Angel is a shaded trail with plenty of natural water, so that means more plant and animal life for you to view. At Indian Garden, water is available year round, and there’s a must-see creek-side trail that snakes through ravines of water-sculpted stone and green cottonwood trees; from Plateau Point, you can see three miles of the Colorado River. Mules have the right of way on the trail.