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While not the tallest mountain on Raiatea—that distinction belongs to 1,017-meter-tall (3,337-foot-tall) Mount Tefatoaiti—Mount Temehani is the island’s most sacred. And at 772 meters (2,532 feet), it’s plenty scenic, too. But this flat-topped peak’s true claim to fame is the tiare apetahi—a delicate, white, five-petaled flower (related to the Tahitian gardenia) that’s so rare it grows nowhere else on Earth but on this mountain.

The only existing French plantation house on St. Kitts, the Fairview Great House was built circa 1701 and originally housed French military officers. Today, guests can tour the beautifully restored property, taking in the period furnishings, kitchen, apiary, chapel, and bathhouse before exploring the two-and-a-half acres of botanical gardens, filled with tropical flowers, fruit trees, and monkeys. Visitors can also purchase day passes to the property’s swimming pool and sunny deck, or sign up for cooking classes and tastings of St. Kitts’ own Brinley Shipwreck Gold Rum.

In the colorful seaside town of Dingle, you’ll find the Chart House, a lovely modern restaurant in a low, stone cottage with a garden that provides many of the goodies found on the menu. Dishes are served with a creative twist, including black pudding wrapped in filo pastry with pear and lime chutney, and roast rack of Kerry lamb with cumin-spiced red onion marmalade. And of course, Dingle Bay is the source for much of what goes into the fresh seafood chowder. The limited early-evening menu, served from 6 to 7 p.m., is a good value.

The Marine Room faces the Pacific Ocean and is the only place in San Diego where you can eat great food in a cozy atmosphere while the surf pounds the glass. Don’t even bother coming here unless it’s during high tide. When you visit San Diego- just check the tide charts and then call the Marine Room to reserve your breakfast spot during high tide. They do an elaborate buffet and I was actually impressed at the quality of food. There’s something for everyone. The set up is buffet style, but the food is definitely not! From wild caught salmon to pastries to breakfast meats- there’s something for everyone. Recommended: Definitely check the restaurant website before reserving your seat. And definitely reserve a seat!

This three-mile stretch of white sand is the only public beach at the gated Puntacana Resort & Club. Even so, non-guests can only reach the beach after dining at the resort’s oceanfront Playa Blanca Restaurant. It’s worth it, though, as the calm turquoise water is ideal for swimming, kayaking, and catamaran sailing. A mesh barrier keeps seaweed out of the swimming and beach areas, ensuring pristine water and sand as far as the eye can see.

The Great Market Hall in Budapest should be any visitors first stop in order to get acquainted to the people, goods and grub of Hungary. The market is one of those strange places that caters to both locals and tourists alike without losing its authentic appeal. Under one roof you can by meats and sausages, Royal Tokaji wine, paprika, hot Hungarian favorites, such as Goulash, an assortment of pickled vegetables and fresh produce. The upper floor has small eateries, where you can sample a variety of Hungarian favorites for very little money.

Whether you are celebrating a special occasion or just for a spontaneous night of indulgence: Medellin is blessed with romantic dining spots. El Cielo, just opposite Parque Lleras, is as well-known throughout Latin America as its creator Juan Manuel Barrientos—a young chef synonymous with creating unforgettable experimental cuisine. Dishes are separated into ‘moments’ and are all created by his team of chefs and designers in his food lab. Diners can choose from either 10 or 15 ‘moments.’ Each dish has a lifespan of three months, after which it is replaced by a new, vastly different dish. Meanwhile Carmen, located a few blocks away, offers not only high-end, diverse cuisine but also a seductive interior and some extraordinary cocktails.

South Bank has both the best river walk in London and the city’s liveliest cultural centers, so a walk along it is a must. The path takes you from the Globe and the Tate Modern along the Thames—passing Gabriel’s Wharf with its stellar restaurants and bars—to the National Theatre, the Royal Festival Hall, the Hayward Gallery, and the London Eye. A two-mile strip has never held so many different entertainment opportunities; you could spend weeks along it without getting bored. That’s not to mention the regular outdoor performances and the unparalleled views of the bridges over the river, Big Ben, and the Houses of Parliament.

You can smell the enticing aroma from this shop as you leave La Piazzetta to walk down Capri’s main drag. This historic gelateria and pastry shop makes its own crisp sugar cones to serve ice cream to the crowds throughout the day and late into the night. Come here after your evening passeggiata for a gelato. If you can’t make a decision, don’t fret: You can order up to three flavors in one cone. Wonderful pastries and ready-made meals are available here, too. (There is another location down at the Marina Grande.)

The name of this little-known Alfama gem means simply “Aunt Natércia,” and that’s exactly who will greet you if you manage to snag a seat. Here, you’ll find no-frills, home-cooked Portuguese dining, with classic dishes like bacalhau com natas (oven-baked salted cod with fried potatoes and cream), arroz de pato (duck rice), and folhado de bacalhau (salted cod in puff pastry) being upstaged only by Aunt Natércia herself. She’ll talk your ear off in Portuguese while she cooks and serves—it’s a one-woman show—but her food is so good you won’t even care. Reserve ahead.

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.

For an elegant island dining experience, opt for an evening at Le Corail at the InterContinental Bora Bora Resort & Thalasso Spa. The formal and contemporary dining room, right beside the lagoon, seats only 28 at a time, so the mood is intimate and romantic. Tables by the windows, with a view of the resort’s overwater wedding chapel, are the most coveted. The French-accented seven-course tasting menu rotates with the seasons and is plated artfully, in keeping with the modern surroundings. With advance notice, the kitchen can accommodate those with allergies and dietary restrictions. Open six nights a week for dinner, from April to November.

The most quintessential Cambodian souvenir must be the checked cotton krama that you will see around the necks, heads or waists of every Cambodian you meet. Cambodians like to boast that the krama has a dozen different uses -- some clever, some cute, some cringe-worthy. The most popular way to wear the krama is as a handsome scarf and a symbol of national and cultural pride, hung loosely around the neck over a pressed dress shirt. However, head out to the villages and you’ll see local farmers wearing them wrapped around their forehead to soak up the sweat, while village women will wear them as a head-dress. I’ve used mine as a belt. They’re handy for wiping the perspiration from your brow while scrambling temples in the sticky humidity. You’ll see kramas sold everywhere and in the Old Market they start from as little as US$1, however, these are generally made from a polyester-cotton mix and don’t do the trick. I love the authentic, quality cotton kramas sold at boutiques like Wa Gallery, which is where the ones above are from.

The Rossio railway station was designed between 1886 and 1887 by Portuguese architect José Luís Monteiro. It makes connections with the village of Sintra, and the 2,600-meter tunnel was excavated under the city. It is considered one of 19th-century Portugal’s most important works of engineering. It has a beautiful Neo-Manueline façade, where two intertwined horseshoe portals stand at the entrance, a clock sits in a small turret, and the sculptural decoration is abundant. Inside you can now find a Starbucks, Lisbon Destination Hostel, and a souvenir shop.

Mona’s flagship restaurant—like the museum itself—is both challenging and surprising. The French-accented fine-dining spot, headed up by chef Philippe Leban, focuses on excellent Tasmanian produce with a twist: Think fun-filled dishes like artichoke gazpacho with mustard ice cream and mustard oil.