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Deli Board, a small SoMa joint, is nirvana for sandwich lovers, with offerings made from the best ingredients found this side of Cleveland, which is where owner Adam Mesnick grew up. Design your own creation from a selection of bread, meats, and extras (pickles and cherry peppers are a must), or order one of his predesigned, prenamed beasts, which are piled-high combinations of meat, veg, sauce, and extras. Zeke is a Californian’s favorite, with turkey, avocado, bacon, cream cheese, pickled onion, sprouts, and mayonnaise on a French roll, while the Leroy Brown satisfies carnivorous cravings with Romanian pastrami, turkey, kosher salami, American cheese, Muenster cheese, pepperoncini, pickles, and homemade sauce. Check the website for daily specials, or just drop in to stock your picnic basket.

Given its prime La Jolla location—with a Pacific panorama to match—this stylish, modern bar could get away with serving almost anything. But lucky for spirits enthusiasts, George’s Level2 (one of three venues that make up George’s at the Cove) literally wrote the book on San Diego’s craft cocktail scene: Stephen Kurpinsky, head barman and director of spirits and beer, collaborated with his staff to produce Neighborhoods of San Diego, a beautifully bound compendium of drinks, each representative of—and photographed in—a distinct corner of the city. As you flip through the book, which doubles as the bar’s menu, you’ll get the local lowdown—learning, for example, that around 25,000 pedestrians enter the United States via the San Ysidro border crossing daily. But mostly, you’ll learn that choosing a drink here is nearly impossible. The most popular option is the La Jolla: tequila infused with mango, lime zest, and chili blended with fresh lime juice, agave syrup, and a saline-and-suspended-seaweed ice cube. If you’re looking for something with fizz, the Little Italy—with prosecco and balsamic strawberry shrub, among other treats—is the way to go.

Buenos Aires is so grand that the El Centro (city center) district alone has more historic sites than many world cities. As you stroll, you’ll view the iconic Obelisk, which overlooks the main Avenue 9 de Julio, and the Plaza de Mayo, where Evita addressed throngs of her followers from the balcony of the Casa Rosada. The churches are works of art—the Baroque Basilica of San Francisco is only one example—and even the office buildings are worth seeing (check out the elegant Palacio Barolo). In all, the architecture rivals that of any city in Europe.

Located at the far end of picturesque Calzada de los Frailes on a quaint little square next to San Bernardino Convent, the Taberna de los Frailes is a great option for Valladolid dining. Choose to sit inside, out in the garden, or under a thatched-roof palapa. The menu is packed with regional favorites, including local seafood and meat options, plus several interesting vegetarian dishes. The wine list is fairly extensive and some unusual cocktails share menu space with classics. The pavo en relleno negro (turkey stuffed with a hard-boiled egg in a thick black sauce) is especially good, but a heavy hitter—definitely come hungry.

Overlooking the San Miguel River and trail, Camel’s Garden sits right at the base of the gondola connecting Telluride with Mountain Village, just a few short blocks from Main Street. In addition to a convenient location, the hotel offers several complimentary niceties, including continental breakfast, wine and cheese in the winter, ski valet and storage, and heated underground parking—all of which make getting to the slopes easier, faster, and more pleasant. There’s also Oak, a full-service restaurant and bar beloved for its Southern-style ribs, and the award-winning Atmosphere Day Spa, which features a 25-foot hot tub with stunning mountain views.

Standard rooms are spacious at 385 square feet, while deluxe rooms include a sitting area and wet bar. No matter which you choose, you’ll enjoy a fireplace, balcony, and large soaking tub to soothe post-ski muscles. If you’re traveling with a large family or group, however, opt for one of the condos, which feature separate living areas, washers and dryers, and top-of-the-line kitchens with Sub Zero and Viking appliances.

Only accessible by foot or horseback, Grand Gulch is a tributary canyon where water eventually flows to the San Juan River, which then ultimately flows into the Colorado River and Lake Powell. Home to the Anasazi people between 700 and 2,000 years ago, the area is rife with artifacts, from dwelling structures to artwork—all in impressive condition thanks to the cautious and respectful treatment of those who visited before you. Baskets were among the earliest relics to be found and potsherds can still be discovered here, hidden in the right spots to protect them from the weather.

Within the Aysén Region, the Chonos Archipelago, named for an extinct people, is laced with innumerable islands around which blue whales thrive. Both the Darwin and Moraleda channels traverse the archipelago, which extends down to the 17,420-square-kilometer (6,726-square-mile) Laguna San Rafael National Park in the Northern Patagonian Ice Field. The San Rafael Glacier and a 16-kilometer-long (10-mile-long) fjord are found within the park that is part of a UNESCO Biosphere Reserve.

This small archaeological site is situated on a hillside about 12 miles east of Oaxaca city. The name “Dainzú” means “hill of the organ cactus” in Zapotec, although that most certainly was not the original name. The site was occupied in very early times, but its apogee was roughly at the same time as Monte Alban (200 B.C.E. to 350 C.E.). It was excavated in 1965 by Mexican archaeologist Ignacio Bernal. This is one of Oaxaca’s less visited sites, so you’re likely to have the place to yourself. It is quite a nice site, however, and worth a visit for a few special features. The site has a ball court, as well as a gallery of bas-reliefs depicting ball players, so undoubtedly the game was very important to the inhabitants. Another must-see is a tomb that has a jaguar carved into the entrance; the face is carved in the lintel, and the animal’s forearms are on either side.

Husband-and-wife team Genevieve Gergis and Ori Menashe are behind Bestia, an Italian haven that consistently ranks high on local “best of” lists. The decor follows the name—which translates to “beast” in Italian—with its wall of weapons and meat-hook chandeliers. There’s no wrong choice on this menu, but the roasted marrow bone and alla ‘nduja pizza are favorites for first-timers. Without a reservation, expect to wait at least an hour, even on a weeknight. If you’re looking to dine in a big group or want a primo time slot (7 p.m. on a Saturday night, say), then you’ll need to plan ahead and make a reservation at least a month in advance.

The centerpiece of the city’s emerging Vulkan neighborhood, Oslo’s very first food hall is a culinary utopia. Let your nose guide you to one (or five!) of 27 eateries peddling everything from cupcakes to tapas to bento boxes. Can’t decide? Stop at the Torget stall and order the Taste of Mathallen menu to sample mind-altering dishes from the hall’s best restaurants. The communal wooden benches in the center of the hall encourage sharing, so you and your friends can divide and conquer. Finish your visit with a craft beer in the basement pub Smelteverket, which features Norway’s longest bar.

Looking for a great afternoon or evening hike, high above the clouds of the East Bay? Need a few good labyrinths and a volcano to make it desirable? It so happens, I’ve found your place. Located on the border of Oakland and Contra Costa, the parking for Sibley is on Skyline Boulevard. This is a Regional Preserve and is managed by the East Bay Regional Park District. All the perks of hikes in this part of the Bay are here and include a great network of trails, soaring views and many a grassy vista. It also claims an extinct volcano and at least four or five labyrinths for potential meditation. You have two major continental plates to thank for the geological grandeur and a few thoughtful locals for the peace of mind, found within.

This 19th-century complex, originally built as a hospital for the disadvantaged, is host to an impressive display of modern art, most notably a series of frescoes by famous Mexican muralist Jose Clemente Orozco. The collection includes one of his most well-known murals, El Hombre de Fuego, which earned its building the nickname “the Sistine Chapel of the Americas.” A UNESCO World Heritage Site, Hospicio Cabañas is a perfect example of Guadalajara’s ability to embrace its history and its future, combining 1790s architecture, 1930s murals, and, finally, a space for rotating exhibitions of contemporary art.

Having functioned as an orphanage, an insane asylum, and a military barracks in the past, Hospicio Cabañas also has a spooky side. There are several ghost stories about the space, including a legend about a clock that stopped whenever a child died in the orphanage.

The moment the snow melts, young Torontonians begin their annual spring migration to Trinity Bellwoods Park. The hippest park in town, Bellwoods stretches from the shopper’s paradise of Queen West up to central Dundas Street. On a summer’s day, sun-and-fun seekers spread out on beach blankets to watch the action: at the dog run, on the tennis courts, in the kiddie pool, and even closer, on the adjacent blankets. After dark, head to nearby Bellwoods Brewery for a pint.

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.

Hop aboard the ferry at Pier 41 in San Francisco, or from the town of Tiburon, and spend a day on the largest and most beautiful island in the bay—Angel Island State Park. You can bring your own bike, or rent one when you arrive, and ride the paved perimeter trail around the 760-acre island. There are open-air tram tours, too, with guides recalling the island’s rich history, as well as guided hikes. Of course, you are free to roam the trails on your own, one of the best of which is the hike up to the top of 788-foot Mount Livermore, where 360-degree views take in the San Francisco skyline and the Golden Gate Bridge. Whatever your plan, know you’ll be immersing yourself in local history in a place that has been a fishing and hunting site for Coast Miwok Indians, a haven for Spanish explorer Juan Manuel de Ayala, and a U.S. Army post starting with the Civil War. From 1910 to 1940, hundreds of thousands of immigrants were processed here, and during World War II, Japanese and German POWs were held on the island. Several buildings and other relics remain as a reminder of the island’s varied history, including the United States Immigration Station museum (open March–October).