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If you’re looking for a way to while away a rainy afternoon, head over to Mapo-gu and pop into the quaint boutique Object. This whimsical store is a shopper’s delight, and offers a wide array of stationery and jewelry designed by local artists, plus dishes, hats, bags, and even teddy bears and typewriters. Since the shop works on a consignment basis, the product selection is ever-changing, making it entirely worthwhile and necessary to return frequently, preferably with healthy wad of won in your wallet. 400-1 Seogyo-dong, Mapo-gu

The cobalt-blue-and-brick-red residence where now-legendary Mexican visual artist Frida Kahlo grew up—and at times lived with husband Diego Rivera—is one of the city’s most consistently packed attractions; buying tickets in advance is strongly recommended. That said, the visit is essentially (and justifiably) mandatory and offers fascinating glimpses into this extraordinary woman’s life and work. In addition to holding some of her paintings, the house also functions as a showcase for her library, astounding wardrobe, and collection of pre-Columbian artifacts; it additionally bears witness to her close association with left-wing politics. What’s more, the museum portrays the artist’s struggles with depression, marital infidelities, disability, and illness. The house’s garden—home to a modest café and mostly bashful felines—makes for a great breather before more strolling in the Coyoacán neighborhood.

You’ll recognize this setting as one that appears in some of the most iconic Amalfi Coast photos. The villa’s riotous beds of pansies and garden walls covered with vibrant bougainvillea are as jaw-dropping in real life. One section of the gardens dates back to the 13th century, but only traces of the medieval part remains. Most of the space is dedicated to a Romantic era–style garden that was designed by Francis Nevile Reid, a wealthy Scottish expat who owned and restored the villa in the late-19th century. In addition to touring the gardens, a small museum on the grounds with a cloister and tower is worth visiting. From June through September every year, the Ravello Festival is held here.

The name translates as “Back Pocket,” an apt description for this one-room restaurant tucked into the side of the Royal Opera House. The tiled room is decorated with opera memorabilia, and sometimes you’ll find yourself dining next to tuxedo-clad members of the orchestra between performances. Diners perch at the counter at little tables affixed to the walls or, during the summer, outside in the sun. The food is traditional Swedish cuisine—husmanskost, as it’s known—with particularly good seafood, and best enjoyed with a Swedish beer.

A local landmark, Taverna Trilussa has been a Trastevere hangout for nearly a century. The ivy-covered entrance opens to a lively family-run trattoria where prosciutto and dried herbs decorate the walls alongside the usual trappings of vintage photos, books, and paintings. Taverna Trilussa is most famous for its tableside serving of typical Roman dishes like bucatini all’Amatriciana and cacio e pepe, theatrically tossed about in a frying pan or even a Parmesan wheel. Reservations are a must, or else expect to queue up alongside all the tourists waiting for a plate of mozzarella in carrozza.

On Karlin’s impossible to pronounce Krizikova street (where the neighborhood’s foodie scene is most visible), this inviting wine bar was among the venues to solidify the foodie scene here. Led by oenophile and poet Bogdan Trojak, Veltlin offers natural wines (what they prefer to call authentic wines) from the former Austro-Hungarian empire with a diversity of blends from the Czech Republic’s Moravian and Bohemian regions to Croatia and Austria. You can check the menu online to see the day’s open bottles on offer. A local illustrator is behind the whimsical map of the former empire adorning one wall.

Café Du Monde is always open; it’s the clientele that changes—from visiting families and local pensioners early in the morning, to couples in the evening, to Bourbon Street refugees looking for coffee and ballast in the night’s thinnest hours. This huge coffee stop is a rarity—a tourist trap that locals actually love (although they will rarely wait when lines are long). It’s been around for more than a century, and basically serves two items: beignets and café au lait. The beignets are similar to Spanish buñuelos, fried fritters of dough, and are one of those French traditions that’s survived here more durably than in France. While probably not on anyone’s diet list—they come piled with powdered sugar—they’re surprisingly light, and an order (which equals three beignets) disappears with unusual haste.

Preservation Hall occupies a worn Creole town house that was originally built as a home in the early 19th century, and that had evolved into an art gallery and performance space by 1961. (It was founded by a man of philanthropic bent who fretted that the great, aging New Orleans musicians no longer had a place to play.) It hasn’t changed much since the ‘60s—audiences cluster on benches or stand along the back wall to hear whomever is playing that night. Among the glories of New Orleans is traditional jazz, which is still very much alive here and never feels as if it belongs in a morgue—or even an intensive care unit. Check the schedule for upcoming acts, but don’t get hung up on specific performers; every night offers something worth stopping by for, and everyone leaves in a better mood than when they arrived.

Deep in Berlin‘s Grunewald Forest, Teufelsberg (literally, Devil’s Mountain; the name comes from the nearby Teufelssee, or Devil’s Lake) was once the site of a Nazi technology college. After the war, it was decided that the school would be buried beneath rubble and debris left in the city after the war, and the resulting man-made hill rose to more than 300 feet; during the cold war, American troops built a base on top from which to spy on East Germany. Since the wall fell, the base’s radar domes have become graffiti-spattered ruins and a haunting pilgrimage for urban explorers, street-art fans, and those seeking great views over the Grunewald and the Havel River. The hill is also used as a ski slope and sled run in winter; paragliding aficionados and picnickers enjoy it in summer. The website has official tour options.

The Estate Whim Plantation Museum, billed as the only sugar plantation museum in the Virgin Islands, is set on magnificently landscaped grounds occupying 12 acres of what was formerly a 150-acre property. The restored early-18th-century buildings include a great house, fully restored windmill, and sugar-factory ruins that are open to visitors and can be toured alone or with a docent. Sugarcane still grows in one of the plantation gardens.

After a day spent exploring Montjuïc’s gardens and museums, this cozy corner restaurant in nearby El Poble-Sec makes for an ideal dinner stop. Simply decorated, with bright green walls, a long wood bar, and a handful of tables, La Platilleria doesn’t have a fixed menu; rather, the kitchen offers a daily selection of seasonal, locally sourced small plates. There are Spanish stalwarts like patatas bravas, pan con tomate, and Ibérico ham, but it’s worth trying the specials, which might include a rich dish of braised oxtail atop polenta, or osso buco with sweet potatoes. A small but well-curated selection of Spanish wine, cava, and craft beer is available—if you’re feeling daring (or thrifty), order a 3 euro ($3.35) pinguino, a penguin-shaped carafe of rustic local wine.

This small—but always packed—dining room is where to go for a delicious introduction to the fresh seafood that’s so abundant along the coast. Specials are chalked on a blackboard, while the likes of Mourne mussels, fish cakes, and langoustines are featured on the daily menu. The main dining room and adjacent Oyster Bar share a menu.

Historic Santo Domingo offers a unique look at how the New World was settled in the years following Christopher Columbus’s arrival in the Caribbean on his first voyage in 1492, as well as subsequent expeditions. The Colonial Zone sits along the Ozama River, where the settlement’s original layout, walls, forts and other buildings remain much as they were 500 years ago. With its wealth of colonial architecture, the area has not surprisingly been recognized by UNESCO as a World Heritage Site. Among the historic buildings is the first cathedral built in the Americas, the Basilica Cathedral of Santa María la Menor (also known as the Catedral Primada de América, recognizing its historic significance). The ornate church once housed the remains of Christopher Columbus until they were moved to the Columbus Lighthouse, in the eastern part of the city.

As the first boutique hotel in Koreatown, the Line might have been able to get away with cutting a few corners while still attracting a cool clientele. It probably didn’t need to get the hottest young Korean-American chef in L.A. on board (to run one of the most comprehensive and exciting restaurant and bar networks yet seen, by the way), nor did the Sydell Group—the arbiters of cool behind the Nomad Hotel in New York—have to put their stamp on it. The hotel would have been nice enough had the concrete midcentury building not been entirely reimagined by designer Sean Knibb, known for designing half the cool spots in L.A. and more than a few celebrities’ homes. There didn’t need to be a desert greenhouse–inspired pool deck that’s become a hangout for beautiful people at all hours, nor did the famously trendy Houston Brothers (of no Vacancy and Harvard & Stone) have to throw in a midcentury-inspired cocktail bar. Nor did the typical hotel gift shop have to be reimagined as a design and lifestyle store curated by Poketo. The rooms and suites would have been just fine had they not been turned into artsy, industrial-style lofts, outfitted with original commissioned artwork, a minibar of Korean and Western snacks, and Baxter of California toiletries. Of course, all of this did happen, and now Koreatown is home to one of the hottest hotels in L.A.

Famous since its 1998 opening as the place with the dancing fountains (further immortalized in the final scene of the 2001 film Ocean’s Eleven), the 3,933-room Italian-themed Bellagio is a Las Vegas icon. There is a fantasy feel about it, with its five courtyard pools, its indoor botanical garden and conservatory that change with the seasons, its lobby-dominating Dale Chihuly blown-glass flower sculpture, and its eight-acre lake, out of which rise the fountains. Yet following a 2015 upgrade, it also feels as modern as any hotel on the Strip. The Bellagio still does a few things the old-fashioned way: Along with the expected celebrity restaurants, there is a buffet (a long-cherished Las Vegas tradition) brought up to modern standards with an all-you-can-drink alcohol option. Throughout the hotel, service is tops, shopping is high-end, the Cirque du Soleil production O draws ’em in, and—another Las Vegas tradition—a casino with nearly the area of two football fields makes it all go ‘round, which is no doubt why everybody has to be out of the pools by 7 p.m.