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Housed in a refurbished building on a four-acre private peninsula, this all-inclusive luxury resort is far more expensive than most hotels on Lake Titicaca, but it’s well worth the splurge. Not only are all of your meals, cocktails, and most excursions included, but the lodge invests deeply in the local community—it hires more than three-quarters of its staff from the surrounding area, sources as many ingredients as possible from regional farmers, and turns to nearby artisans for its textiles and other crafts. Additionally, the on-site restaurant is one of the best in the area. If you’d prefer a more private dining experience, take your meal on one of the hotel’s wraparound terraces, or order 24-hour room service.

All 18 rooms face the lake and feature heated floors (it can get chilly at night at 12,500 feet of elevation), a banquette overlooking the water, a free mini-bar, and deep bathtubs. King rooms are the most economical, but the two corner rooms—with their spacious layouts and panoramic views of the lake—are the most requested. For the best sunrise or sunset vistas, choose either the “Dawn” or “Dusk” rooms.

Mount Royal Park starts at the edge of the city just beyond the McGill campus and runs alongside neighborhoods like Plateau before rising to the top of 764-foot-tall Mount Royal (Mont Réal), the hill that gives the city its name. The twisting roads and paths of this crown jewel of Montréal’s park system were initially laid out by Frederick Law Olmsted, who also designed New York’s Central Park. While Olmsted’s plan was not followed in all its details, the final result was true to his vision of a woody park that takes advantage of the site’s hilly topography. There are two belvederes with views of the city skyline and the St. Lawrence River, and one of Montréal’s iconic landmarks, a 103-foot-high cross, sits at its northern end. The park is most popular in summer, but residents flock here in every season, to enjoy the colorful foliage in the fall and the cross-country ski trails and toboggan runs in the winter.

Curaçao definitely runs on “island time,” but it’s worth getting to this café early so you can eat lunch or dinner on the colonial building’s second-floor veranda. Gaze across the bay at Punda’s colorful houses, then savor the gourmet menu. A top pick is the keshi yena, Curaçao’s national dish: cheese stuffed with spiced meat, olives, capers, pickled onions, and prunes. Wash it down with a glass of awa di lamunchi—lime juice with a dash of brown sugar. Other favorite dishes include the fresh fish, the coconut braised-goat curry, and the braised-beef stew (karni stoba).

Blink and you’ll miss this tiny Indian-run eatery serving eclectic international fare between Mitte and Prenzlauer Allee along the trendy Kastanienallee. Notable for its upside-down McDonald’s sign (hence the “W” in the name; Der Imbiss means “The Snack”), the restaurant consists of a service window and a few brightly colored tables, and has quirky Hawaiian and African decor. The food is not only cheap and tasty but also healthy and diverse, pulling off an ambitious mix of Mexican, Californian, Indian, and Italian influences. It’s most famous for naan pizzas—Indian naan breads baked in the venue’s tandoor, with pizza-esque toppings from olives and cheese to artichokes and salmon. The menu also includes filling Indian thali platters, soups and salads, and Mexican-style wraps.

The Piazza Della Repubblica was the place to be in Florence in the evenings. Tourists and locals alike dined at the restaurants lining the square, student groups gathered, families enjoyed the Carousel, and gypsies and other migrants tried to sell everything from silk scarves to toys..right up until the police arrived and they all magically disappeared.

While much attention is paid to the Japanese and Italian influences on Los Cabos cuisine, one of the very best spots in town is an Argentine entry. The low-key, low-lit courtyard restaurant Chamuyo features a dozen or so tables, a long bar, and a traditional Argentine grill. The steak-house menu sends you on a culinary adventure through Buenos Aires dance halls and the verdant pampas. Meat-stuffed Argentine empanadas (markedly different from the Mexican variety) are served oven-baked or fried, and make excellent starters. For your main course, try chef Marcelo Romby’s 22-ounce beef ribs, which he slow-cooks for more than four hours. Pair it with a bottle of Baja red and, if you can, save room for some first-rate alfajor cookies.

An ornate late-Victorian heap of red sandstone, the Kelvingrove (located within a lovely park of the same name) is Glasgow’s signature museum—and one of the most popular attractions in Scotland. Free to enter, it features a full house of historic exhibitions on everything from animals to Ancient Egypt and Charles Rennie Mackintosh, plus a wide range of important Scottish art (like Colourist Samuel John Peploe’s Roses), several French and Dutch works, and Salvador Dalí’s iconic Christ of Saint John of the Cross. Visiting exhibitions, such as Leonardo da Vinci drawings, round out the offerings. There are also regular organ recitals and free tours on weekends, making the Kelvingrove a perfect family attraction.

Tensions dissolve immediately when guests arrive at Sparrows Lodge. Take your welcome cocktail—sangria with wild blueberries—straight to the arbor, where the scent of citrus and the soothing fountain flow embody “out of office.” Like much of Palm Springs, this 20-room bolt-hole dates to the 1950s, when it was owned by MGM actor Don Castle and known as Castle’s Red Barn. Fully restored in 2013, the lodge is more rustic modern than midcentury, with russet red walls, exposed beams, and Swiss army blankets. It’s a decidedly unplugged place (rooms don’t have TVs or phones) with a casual atmosphere that’s akin to summer camp. Plan to spend quality time at the pool, tooling around town on one of the free Sole bikes, or in the Out of Africa–style massage tent. The Barn Kitchen’s family-style dinners on Chicken Wednesdays and Steak Saturdays are a can’t-miss. Strangers become fast friends over three-course feasts by chef Gabriel R. Woo (reserve at least a week in advance). Pro tip: Ask for a poolside room with a deep steel horse trough bathtub—and bring a good book.

Usually, when you travel, it’s to experience a different side of yourself. The more adventurous side, the slightly less scheduled side, the sleep-in-without-guilt side. And when you stay at the Drake Hotel in Toronto, you can’t help but feel like your cooler side is making a much-needed appearance. The recently renovated property on Queen Street West features the kind of interior design that radiates style whether it’s in the kaleidoscopic lobby, the next door theater, or in two wings of suites. That’s because the hotel commissioned artists to showcase their work on plenty of open surfaces — from a black-and-white squiggle accent wall in guest rooms to personality-driven drawings in the elevator — and the results make for surroundings that are the material equivalent of black sunglasses. Paired with of-the-moment details like pink terrazzo showers and wraparound midcentury sofas, and the Drake Hotel is meant to cultivate a see-and-be-seen vibe.

But that’s not to say that the hotel sacrifices comfort for being camera-ready. The staff is kind and always available through text, the beds are soft and squarely stationed in front of a well-appointed bar and flatscreen television, and designer toiletries are filled to the brim. It’s also possible to eat throughout the day at the hotel’s delicious cafe and patio (get the French toast), and then spend the night at its second-floor bar or ground floor lounge. On weekends, even if you’re not a guest, you can stop by for regularly scheduled events including a DJ who spins old and new tunes. If you do plan on leaving the hotel to see the city, then you’re right in the midst of it, and the surrounding neighborhood can keep you readily entertained.

When you stay at the Drake Hotel, don’t be surprised if you feel relaxed, in-the-know, and decidedly cooler once you check out. These are sides of yourself the hotel may have encouraged, but feel free to hold on to them after you return home.

Regulars at Workshop Kitchen + Bar know not to get too attached to any one dish. Innovative chef/owner Michael Beckman—who trained in Lyon and worked in Berlin—might be serving honey-lavender glazed black cod one night; a sausage, rapini, and fennel pizza another; and his signature burger (with pastrami and wagyu oxtail) the next. Diners in the know ask for the off-the-menu whole striped sea bass, grilled in the wood-fired oven with seasonally shifting ingredients. The adventurous menu is a big draw, to be sure, but so is the magical setting: The 90-year-old Spanish-inspired building—once an art gallery and movie theater—features 27-foot-high ceilings, which the trendsetting architecture firm SOMA updated with poured concrete for an industrial cathedral aesthetic. (The work won it a James Beard Design Award.) If you’re there for Sunday brunch or an early dinner, ask for booth #7, which is flooded with natural light, or a table in the whitewashed courtyard. Cocktails such as the Mountaineer—made with little-known Génépy des Alpes liqueur, pineapple and lime juice, and bitters—are just as revelatory early in the evening as they are on late weekend nights, when the place is bustling.

At this unique formation, Navajo sandstone in shades of deep red to white was first eroded by water and then primarily by wind to create smooth, rolling terrain that resembles ocean waves. The differing densities of stone have caused the structure to erode at varying speeds, resulting in undulating fins of rock along the entire surface. Made up of two separate U-shaped troughs, the Wave is as narrow as seven feet, as wide as 60 feet, and more than 100 feet long. To preserve its serene nature, the Bureau of Land Management only issues 20 permits per day to visitors. If you’re lucky enough to secure one, you must then hike nearly three miles across the open desert from the trailhead closest to the site to reach it.

Never underestimate the power of shocking pink. The intimate but lively dining room at Dulce Patria—the smash hit by celebrity chef Martha Ortiz—feels not unlike a stage set. Soon after 2 p.m., it starts to fill with high-powered ladies-who-lunch types, cooing over a menu of updated Mexican classics with extravagant, architectural presentations that are at least half the fun. That said, chef Ortiz’s flavorful sculptures really deliver: Tastes are delicate, authentic, and quite delicious. The well-balanced offering presents ample choices without overwhelming, in favorites like the corn-kernel soup, a full portfolio of quesadillas, duck mole, and an extravagant dessert list (gelatin lovers rejoice) that really does drive home the dulce part. A recent seating included telenovela stars and a former Señor Presidente. And who knew there were so many edible flowers?

With its red roof tiles, bougainvillea vines, and verdant gardens, Casa Palmero feels like a luxurious Mediterranean villa. The new hotel also overlooks the first and second fairways of the famed Pebble Beach Golf Links. The 24 rooms all have fireplaces, oversized soaking tubs, and beds that invite deep rest, whether or not you spend the day on the golf course. Indulge in that villa guest feeling by relaxing in the living room, library, billiard room, or heated outdoor pool. Personalized services at Casa Palmero include fresh breakfast baskets every morning, complimentary cocktails each evening, and access to such private clubs as the Spanish Bay Club and the Beach & Tennis Club. All Casa Palmero guests can also access the Lodge at Pebble Beach, and its myriad fine dining restaurants, bars, cafés, shops, and spa. (The Pebble Massage is the most popular treatment, incorporating the heat of warmed, sculpted stones.) After sipping your evening cocktail at Casa Palmero, wander over to Stillwater Bar & Grill for local fresh hamachi crudo and Monterey Bay red abalone.

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.

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.