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Turning off the highway into Volcano Village, the one-street town leading into Volcanoes National Park, first-time visitors might think they just made a right turn into Oregon. Cool, misty, and thick with giant ferns, this corner of the Big Island is a small but serious rain forest, nourished mightily by eons of volcanic soil and abundant rainfall. Well concealed down one of the quiet side streets, in their rainforest property, are the four one-bedroom cottages that make up the Volcano Rainforest Retreat. Each is unique—one has a sleeping loft, another is a perfect hexagon, a third has a full kitchen. But with their cedar walls and ample windows and shoji screens, they bring to mind Japanese country houses.


A stone pathway even leads to a Japanese soaking tub sitting outdoors beneath a moss-covered pergola. Interiors have eclectic, tasteful furnishings (leather club chairs, farmhouse-style quilts, handmade ceramics) that make each one feel like the guesthouse of a good friend. Though kids are allowed, and futons are available for extra guests, the setting is best for quiet twosomes, rather than families or boisterous groups of friends, as guest quarters are fairly close to one another. That, and in the hush of the rain forest, loud voices just won’t do.

Much of the indigenous artwork for sale in the Pacific Northwest is, unfortunately, counterfeit. It’s difficult to tell if the masks and other artwork carved and painted in Salish styles of gentle curving lines, depicting animal icons such as the raven, wolf, and orca, are actually the work of Coast Mountains First Nations artists. Black Tusk Gallery, in the heart of Whistler Village, is a cooperative founded to represent indigenous artists. You can commission an artist to carve a totem that tells the story of your family. The gallery supports emerging teen artists of the British Columbia and Yukon First Nations people through an annual aspiring artists award.

It may be only 22 miles west of San Juan, but Dorado Beach, a Ritz-Carlton Reserve feels a world away. The resort has a spectacular location on a three-mile stretch of beach on Puerto Rico’s north shore, where Clara Livingston once ran a sugar plantation—and Amelia Earhart visited before departing for her fateful world tour. In 1958, Livingston sold the property to Laurance S. Rockefeller, who turned it into the first of his legendary Rock Resorts. Known for his green streak, he designed the hotel to respect the local beauty, mandating that buildings could not be taller than the surrounding palm trees.

The Ritz-Carlton—which reopened in October 2018 after a meticulous restoration following Hurricane Maria—pays homage to that original vision. Here, every room is beachfront, with floor-to-ceiling sliding doors that disappear into ocean views, plus deep soaking tubs, outdoor showers shaded by gardens, and either spacious balconies or private plunge pools. As part of the property’s renovation, rooms were refreshed with a color palette that amplifies the natural beauty just beyond the doors. Additionally, the grounds showcase 3,000 new plant species, the spa is offering new locally inspired treatments and cuisine, Encanto Beach Club Bar & Grill features a refreshed dinner menu, and the Positivo Sandbar debuted an omakase and ceviche bar directly on the sand. There’s even an entirely reimagined signature restaurant, Coa, which serves farm-to-table fare cooked on the grill. Still standing strong on the verdant, 1,400-acre grounds are the five 18-hole championship golf courses. The biggest challenge is pulling yourself away from the luxury of the resort to tee up a shot.

Keswick Hall was originally built in 1912 as a family estate and was later a country club before being transformed into a country hotel in the 1990s, and it continues to evolve as a luxury resort in its second century. Experience a bit of the historic grandeur with an elegant al fresco dinner overlooking the countryside at Fossett’s restaurant or with a cocktail at the Villa Crawford bar (named for the original home), before retiring to your room on a bed fit for royalty. (Indeed, the handmade Hypnos mattresses are also commissioned for the British royal family.) Each of the 48 uniquely designed rooms and suites overlook the golf course or gardens, and have minibars stocked with local goodies. You’ll need a good night’s sleep to properly enjoy a full day’s activities on property: a round of golf on the Pete Dye–designed Full Cry course, a tennis match on one of seven courts, or a game of croquet or horseshoes (just a few of the games on offer). Wind down with a massage, signature vinotherapy facial, or raindrop therapy with essential oils at the spa. If you can bear to leave the lush grounds, downtown Charlottesville and the Monticello estate are each a 15-minute drive away.

There’s a comfortable stillness to the acres of Ojai Valley Inn and Spa that’s apparent even when a cacophony of voices fills the air. Sunlight shines brightly against the resort’s white façade, which gleams in unison from the restaurants, accommodations, spa, and pools outstretched on shaded grounds. Flowers – from roses to bougainvillea, lavender to jasmine – line pathways where views of the surrounding rolling mountains peek out between buildings. And even when bicyclists, pedestrians, and the occasional golf carts use those pathways, the motion is as calm and quick as the breeze. Originally built in 1923 as a country club and golf course, the inn has never lost its luxurious appeal for intimate, quiet privacy. Old Hollywood stars have come and gone through its Spanish-style property, and today, the resort is still known as a place where big names can tee off or swim undisturbed. Its more than 300 guest rooms are tucked away in a series of terracotta-topped buildings that share a style of calm blue and white shades. Many rooms feature fireplaces enclosed by a sitting area, and private balconies are scented by the surrounding blooms. In the morning, sip a Keurig coffee from the soft white sheets of bed, or step outside for the view. Then, walk or bike to breakfast before a swim in the newly opened, “adults only” pool.

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.

New safari tents at an iconic central California coast resort invite guests to glamp under the redwood trees. Nightly turndown service, included. Big Sur is once again open for business following last spring’s debilitating mud slides, and autumn is an especially luminous time to explore this legendary stretch of central California coast, some 20 miles south of Carmel. Big Sur’s magic lies in its untamed wilderness: redwood groves, chaparral-covered hills, and iconic rocky cliffs that sprout improbably from the ocean. Condors circle overhead and sea otters float just offshore. For many, the isolation—and peace and quiet—that Big Sur offers is the reason to return again and again. For travelers seeking a soft landing, the Ventana Big Sur resort recently reopened under new ownership and after a massive renovation. New glamping cabins have been added to the 59 rooms, suites, and villas spread throughout the resort’s 160 acres. Shaded by redwoods, the 15 safari-style canvas tents come equipped with hickory walking sticks, portable lanterns, and access to a bathhouse with teak-lined showers and heated floors. Guests can enjoy nightly turndown service and the use of fire pits for making s’mores in the evening. As part of the renovation, the Ventana also built an on-site gallery to showcase paintings, sculptures, jewelry, ceramics, and photography by Big Sur’s most renowned artists. And the new Sur House restaurant—helmed by executive chef Paul Corsentino, who worked in New York and Chicago before heading west—houses a 10,000-bottle wine cellar that highlights small-production central coast wineries. Guests eager to embrace the region’s back-to-nature philosophy might appreciate a soak in the heated, clothing-optional Mountain Pool, undoubtedly more pleasant to ease into than the roiling, frigid Pacific Ocean just down the hill. This appeared in the Jan/Feb 2018 issue.

An emblem of the new Vietnam, this 68-story skyscraper, named for a Vietnamese conglomerate and designed by Venezuelan architect Carlos Zapata, is easily identified in Ho Chi Minh City’s skyline—a helipad juts out from near the top, looking a little like a flying saucer crashed into the building. Upon completion in 2010, it was the tallest building in Vietnam; it can no longer claim that title (which now belongs to the Keangnam Hanoi Landmark Tower), but its construction remains an impressive achievement. The 49th-floor wraparound Saigon Skydeck offers expansive views of the river and the city’s concrete sprawl; you’ll find the same fine views at the somewhat pricey café-restaurant-bar Eon, located on floors 50, 51, and 52.

The Great Wall of China runs more than 21,000 kilometers (over 13,000 miles), not as one continuous wall but rather as fortified wall sections. Some of the sections date back more than 2,500 years, though only 8.2 percent of the existing wall is original. The Mutianyu Great Wall is one of the more accessible portions. Hike (because that is what you’ll be doing, even on the wall itself) up the Great Wall, then slide down the side of the mountain on a toboggan. Alternatively, explore the Simatai Great Wall, which retains a more authentic feel—save, of course, for the fake water town at the bottom. Even more remote is the Jiankou section, which is largely unrestored, so book with an experienced group like Beijing Hikers or Wild Great Wall.

Described by writer Tahir Shah as the “greatest show on Earth,” no visit to Marrakech would be complete without a visit to the famous night market on the Djemaa el Fna. Arrive before sunset and park yourself at one of the various cafés with terraces overlooking the square to watch performers set up; then venture into the fray in search of adventure. Silk-clad acrobats, wide-eyed storytellers, sly snake charmers, jangling belly dancers, and capricious monkey handlers all emerge from the darkness, ringing the edge of the food stalls with their own special brand of entertainment. When you tire of the heckling, prowl the market in search of good things to eat: bite-size morsels of grilled lamb rubbed in cumin, sardines fried in chermoula, peppery snails, and sheep’s heads for the brave. Then nudge up alongside a family of locals at the table and settle in for the feast. If you’re nervous about going it alone, you can sign up for a food tour with Canadian tour guide and all-round good egg Mandy Sinclair of Tasting Marrakech; she’ll help you find the best stalls while introducing you to the secrets and delights of traditional Moroccan street food.

Tahiti Iti, Tahiti‘s smaller sister island that’s connected to the main island at the southeast coast, is home to one of the most famous surfing waves in the Pacific, Teahupoo. This powerful reef break most certainly should not be attempted by anyone but the best surfers—a fall means being dragged by the current across the sharp coral right below the surface. That edge of drama makes for a tense but enjoyable afternoon of observation (from the beach). The left break is best between April and October. The Billabong Pro competition is held here August.

While the art of puppetry is common throughout much of Asia, Vietnam has the unique discipline of water puppetry. These puppets are carved from wood and then lacquered to protect them from the water. The stage for a show is a pool of water, with the puppeteers standing behind, hidden by a screen, manipulating and moving the figures with rods and strings. Water puppetry is believed to have originated in northern Vietnam in the 11th century, possibly in the rice fields around the Red River Delta—flooded paddies were the original stages—and themes often explore the daily routines of rural or coastal life or old folktales. Today visitors can most easily catch a performance in Hanoi or Ho Chi Minh City at one of a handful of well-established theaters.

One of Canada’s most iconic hotels, the Fairmont Chateau Lake Louise is cradled by the Rocky Mountains, its grand, castle-like structure surrounded by towering peaks and the pristine, protected wilderness of Banff National Park. The hotel was founded in 1890 by Cornelius Van Horne, the general manager of the Canadian Pacific Railway, who envisioned creating a refuge for “the outdoor adventurer and alpinist.” What began as a one-story log cabin ended up helping to kick-start tourism in the Canadian Rockies, launch the Canadian mountaineering scene, and draw a host of notable names to the region, from Marilyn Monroe to Queen Elizabeth II.

Today, guests arrive in a grand lobby outfitted with imposing chandeliers and sweeping staircases. Common areas are decorated with old-timey photos from the hotel’s past, while the 552 spacious rooms and suites are all about showcasing views of the stunning turquoise lake and snowcapped Victoria Glacier. There are plenty of activities to enjoy year-round, from canoeing, hiking, fishing, rafting, and horseback riding in warmer weather, to skiing, snowboarding, ice skating, and snowmobiling in the winter. In between, savor everything from European alpine dishes, authentic Italian fare, and Canadian comfort food to a large selection of bourbons and whiskeys at the seven dining outlets, or head to the spa and health club for a pampering treatment or dip in the indoor heated pool.

As is the case with many hotels in the Tulum section of Riviera Maya, Casa de las Olas shies away from the “luxe” label, preferring to promote itself as a simple, eco-friendly retreat where intimate spaces and five-star service are more important than linen thread counts and extra amenities. Bright white walls, mosquito nets, private balconies, and canopy beds are what guests can expect in their rooms. This doesn’t mean that Casa de las Olas is skimpy in any way. The staff are known for their thoughtful attention to guests, and the small size of the hotel—just five suites—ensures they are never overwhelmed by guests’ requests or needs. Plus, each room has views of the Caribbean Sea, and the hotel’s private beach is never more than a few steps away.

Telluride is such a beloved ski destination because there’s a lot of mountain to ski and relatively few people on the slopes. However, if even just a few other people feel like too many, you can hitch a ride in a helicopter to experience pristine parts of the mountain that aren’t accessible by lifts. Open to advanced intermediate skiers and above, Telluride Ski Resort’s three-day heli-skiing school—offered in partnership with Telluride Helitrax, the only heli-skiing outfitter in the area—provides just such an adventure. Not only will you get to ride in a helicopter, but you’ll also feel like you own the mountain as you traverse down untouched slopes.