Search results for

Portugal produces at least half of the world’s cork, harvested from its many cork oak forests. A design shop in the Bairro Alto neighborhood sells umbrellas, handbags, and kitchenware made from the recyclable material. Rua das Salgadeiras 10, 351/21-609-0231.

Often ranked as Maui’s top bed-and-breakfast, this adults-only sanctuary in Lahaina holds its own among Hawaii’s top accommodations. As its name implies, the inn boasts plantation-style architecture, but rooms feature modern conveniences like dual rain showers and whirlpool hot tubs. Guests can also expect hardwood floors, French doors, four-poster beds topped with Hawaiian quilts, and complimentary breakfasts at the award-winning on-site French restaurant Gerard’s. Set right in Lahaina, the property is close to shops, sights, and restaurants and just 10 minutes from the beach, but guests often find themselves lingering at the tranquil outdoor pool instead of venturing out.

A stone’s throw from downtown Split, Marjan is a hilltop park about the same size as New York City’s Central Park. Known as “the lungs of the city,” it’s the ideal urban escape, offering places to run, bike, swim, and even rock-climb. A serene path through fragrant pine forests leads up to Telegrin Peak, revealing charming chapels and sweeping sea views. Along the park’s waterfront, there are also several popular beaches, Kašjuni Cove being the favorite.

Brussels’ parks are all beautiful in the autumn (when it’s not raining, that is), but I have a particular affinity for Park Royale or Brussels Park (also called Parc de Bruxelles in French and Warandepark in Dutch). Nothing signals autumn in Brussels like crunching through the leaves and kicking fallen chestnuts in Brussels Park. This small park sits between the Royal Palace and the Belgian Parliament buildings and is a favourite of office workers at lunchtime. Joggers circle the park’s perimeter and dog-walkers stroll the shady pathways. The park was built in the late 1700s, where the gardens of the former Palace of Coudenberg once stood. Dotted around the park are various statues and fountains and a beautiful cast iron bandstand. Park Royale is also home to concerts and art installations throughout the year.

Hike into Bear Canyon on the northeastern edge of Tucson, and you’ll be rewarded (most of the year) with a view of Seven Falls, gushing out of the Santa Catalina Mountains. Even though the hike in and out is around seven miles, it’s mostly flat. You’ll find that, as you’re zigzagging across the creek on large boulders, with cliffs above the cacti all around, traffic and strip malls are a world away. When you arrive at the falls, the rushing waters are a balm for the soul. Midwinter through the middle of spring is a good time to visit this oasis; the higher-elevation snowmelt guarantees flowing water and the daytime temperatures are comfortable. Midsummer monsoon rains can also fill this canyon, and flash floods can be a sudden danger.

Portland isn’t exactly the kind of city that’s known for being “fancy,” which was why it was so bold for the Starwood Luxury Collection to add a sleek 15th floor to the top of the iconic Meier & Frank department store building downtown—and turn the top nine floors into the swankiest hotel in town. Who would’ve thought that Louis XVI chairs, tufted white leather and teal velvet, crystal chandeliers, and ornate wallpaper would work so well in the city of plaid, beards, and twee bird patterns? In true Field of Dreams fashion, Starwood built it and the travelers came out of the woodwork, hungry for a luxury hotel that embodies the Rose City with everything from environmentally conscious practices and farm-to-table restaurants to an extensive art collection and rooftop honey bee colony. All that’s to say nothing of the private club-like Library, a collaboration with Portland icon Powell’s Books (the world’s largest bookstore) that allows hotel guests to borrow from a curated collection of 3,000 books during their stay. As it turns out, it’s not all that hard to dress Portland to the nines.

An intimate gem whose only shortcoming (in some eyes) is that it does not sit on Pink Sands Beach, the Rock House Hotel & Restaurant was a labor of love for the late Wallace Tutt, an interior designer to the stars who was best known for designing Gianni Versace’s Miami mansion. Ten individually decorated rooms in the 1940s private home turned boutique hotel echo that property’s grandeur with king size beds and seaside motifs, as well as sumptuous linens and stone lion heads mounted on the walls in the restaurant. But the real story here is the service: There is always a picnic basket on-hand in every room, a library of games and books is available for perusal on rainy days, and the concierge is happy to arrange in-room pampering treatments if the walk to the neighboring spa feels like too much trouble.

Shopping passages were built in the 19th century to give Parisians protection from muddy streets and horse-drawn vehicles. Galerie Vivienne is a beautiful restored 19th-century passage with entrances at the Rue des Petits-Champs, Rue de la Banque, and Rue Vivienne. Built in 1823 in a neoclassical Pompeian style that includes a gorgeous canopy and is decorated inside with mosaics, paintings, and sculptures, Galerie Vivienne’s most famous resident is the Jean-Paul Gaultier shop. Some passage entrances are easy to miss, so be on the lookout! A stroll through these fascinating galeries is a fun and free activity on a rainy day.

Standing at 3,793 feet, this towering, verdant peak is the island’s highest point. The dormant volcano is covered mostly in rain forest and capped with a cloud forest, making it ideal for a beautiful hike. The climb is an arduous one, however, and shouldn’t be attempted without a guide. If you manage to reach the top, you’ll be rewarded with sweeping views of St. Kitts, the Caribbean Sea, and neighboring islands like Nevis, Antigua, and Saba.

The Hyderabad Botanical Garden sits on 120 acres of land in the Kothaguda Reserve Forest. The site was created to serve multiple purposes including education, ecotourism, conservation, awareness, and scientific research. In addition to the over 600 species of plants that include fruit trees, aquatic plants, and medicinal plants, there are rock formations and water features. Paved walkways take you through the 19 sections or “vanams” organized by species and purpose. The gardens also organize interactive sessions, nature camps, and guided tours.

There’s only one thing better than driving or cycling through the drenched Siem Reap countryside after a month of monsoon rains and that’s seeing the sodden landscapes from the air. Sure, you’ll get a short glimpse on your plane’s descent into Siem Reap, however, there’s nothing quite like an exhilarating helicopter flight over Angkor Archaeological Park, and Angkor Wat in particular, and seeing the moat full and the lime-green manicured lawns (kept trim from the resident horses, not lawnmowers). You can do a 15-minute flight for as little as US$60 with Helistar. The pilot flies you over a handful of temples, including iconic Angkor Wat (not once, but twice!) as well as lesser visited temples that appear all the more alluring from the air. The experience has been one of my most memorable since moving to Siem Reap.

Lambityeco rose to prominence around the time of the decline the great Zapotec capital Monte Alban, roughly 700 A.D. The site was originally excavated in the 1960s, although some restoration work has been done since that time. Among the buildings to visit there are two important palaces, some temples and a patio, as well as a temazcal steam bath. This is just a small part of what was a much larger city. Evidently, Lambityeco was a salt production center (obtained through distillation of saline groundwater) and was an important stop in the Prehispanic trade route. This site has some examples of elaborate stucco work that are not common in ancient sites in Oaxaca. Besides the figure of Cocijo, the Zapotec rain god, pictured, there are also depictions of Zapotec rulers. This small archaeological site is often overlooked, but it is easy to visit. It is located right by the side of the highway, in the eastern valley of Oaxaca, just before Tlacolula.

Often described as a Greek paradise, the Polilimnio Waterfalls in Polilimnio Gorge offer something different from Messenia’s usual beaches. Visitors are immersed in a scene of lush greenery, gushing cascades, and green lakes filled with fresh-water crabs perfect for a relaxing dip. And if you’re adventurous, cliff diving is also an option at the highest and deepest of the pools. The hike to the Polilimnio Waterfalls takes about an hour and a half, with the trailhead beginning in Haravgi Village. Follow the paved road until it turns into dirt and you’ll eventually come to a car park at the start of the trail. Make sure to wear sturdy shoes, as the ground can be uneven or slippery—especially after it rains—in some sections. For a guided experience, Navarino Outdoors offers an Ancient Messene & Polilimnio Falls Excursion where you’ll explore the area’s historical stadium and theater; eat traditional Greek food; and visit the beautiful Polilimnio Waterfalls.

It was raining when we arrived in Donostia-San Sebastian, but the skies cleared on our second day, and we rode the funicular railway up Mount Igueldo to take in the view back on the city, La Concha Bay, and the empty beach. The “low” travel season had just begun, and the strange little children’s amusement park on the mountaintop had shuttered up for the fall and winter, adding just the right disorienting touch of weird desolation to the Basque country panorama.

When I stepped into the grand lobby of Québec’s Le Château Montebello, I felt like I was entering Paul Bunyan’s living room. Giant timbers braced a three-story-high ceiling, and a massive fireplace in the center radiated warmth in all directions. After checking in, I joined the guests gathered around the six-sided hearth and sank into a leather club chair. I spent the rest of the day by the fire, sipping hot toddies and napping, as the comfort of the crackling flames sent me and the other fireside dozers snuggling deeper into our cushions. I had come to ski some of the 65,000 acres of wooded backcountry that neighbor the resort, but the château was so welcoming, I found it hard to leave.


Often described as the world’s largest log cabin, the lodge and two other main buildings were constructed in 1930 from 10,000 red cedar logs and 500,000 handmade wooden shingles. The houses and the vast surrounding forests were long owned by the politically prominent Papineau family, and until 1970, the estate remained a private nature retreat for Canada’s upper class. As I walked through the château’s halls, the intricately carved banisters and exposed beams reminded me of the great western lodges in the U.S. national parks—only without any grumpy tourists demanding to know where the animals are.

In the guest rooms, deluxe amenities such as flat-screen TVs and rain-dome showerheads upstaged anything found in Yellowstone or Yosemite. Despite the modern perks, rawhide lampshades and other rustic details helped my suite retain its frontier appeal. When I got up to pull the plaid drapes closed that night, I watched a horse-drawn sleigh pass by, glowing in the moonlight against the dark ribbon of the frozen Ottawa River.

Without fresh snow to ski the next morning, I was left to explore the lodge’s other activities. I opted out of getting scrubbed with maple sugar at the spa or unsuccessfully flirting with French-Canadian women by the fire, and instead devoted the day to learning the inscrutable rules of curling. The château has an indoor ice rink dedicated to the sport, a national favorite that’s best described as a combination of shuffleboard and falling down a lot. My instructor was Henri, a kindly sexagenarian who, like many in Québec’s western Outaouais region, seemed more comfortable speaking French than English. As it turns out, kindly reassurance sounds the same in either language. But as my backside repeatedly hit the ice, Henri’s patient polyglot insistence that I was doing “une belle job” grew progressively less convincing.

After my rough-and-tumble day, I dined in the white-tablecloth Aux Chantignoles restaurant. Québecois cuisine dominates the menu, and I followed a dinner of tender venison osso buco with a slice of Québec’s famously sweet and jiggly sugar pie—think pecan pie sans pecans. Snow fell just in time for me to ski through the nearby forest on my last day. I spent a long afternoon there, gliding among stands of birch, pine, and spruce in the rolling Laurentian Highlands. Now and again, I paused to admire one of the countless frozen lakes, their smooth surfaces dotted with tracks left by moose and white-tailed deer. I skied in the silent wilderness until just after sunset. As the scent of a wood fire began to tickle my nose, I grew eager to cozy up by the hearth again. I turned back toward the château’s stone chimney, its rising plume of smoke signaling for my return.
This appeared in the November/December 2010 issue.