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The tree-lined Utoquai and Arboretum at Enge offer excellent views of Lake Zurich and the snow-capped Alps, but the iconic spot for lake-gazing is at the Bürkliterrasse, with its statue of Zeus and Ganymede and straight-shot view of the Alps. Photo © Bruno Macor /FB/Zürich Tourismus.

When in Bora Bora, Tahitian pearls are a girl’s best friend. Often known as “black pearls,” they actually come in all sorts of colors, including black, blue, green, and pink. Even though the pearls aren’t produced in this island’s lagoon—most come from the Tuamotu or Gambier archipelago—many of the highest quality ones are sent to Bora Bora to be sold on the tourist market. The best deals are found on the main island at small boutiques, which often mount them into their own unique designs. Spend a day touring the island in search of your dream pendant or earrings; and if you really want to splurge, go for a full strand.

This stretch of beaches and rocky islets north of Catania were named for their role in Homer’s legend of the Odyssey. In the story, it was here that Odysseus encountered the cyclops Polyphemus, and the lava rocks jutting from the sea are said to have been thrown by Polyphemus as the hero sailed away. Today, the beaches around fishing villages like Acireale and Aci Trezza are beautiful—and popular—summer hangouts.

After Toronto, Montréal is the Canadian city with the largest population of residents of Italian descent. For more than a century, the community has been centered in one of the city’s most charming neighborhoods, Little Italy. The way to the heart of this neighborhood is arguably through its stomach or, rather, the Jean-Talon Market, where residents have come to buy produce and stock their pantries since 1933. Even if you aren’t shopping for fresh vegetables or fruits, it’s a good place to come to sample Québecois products and buy gifts like local jams, jellies, and maple products to take back home.

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.

Among the increasingly trendy streets of the Upper Marais, this intimate hotel offers a refreshingly low-key place to unpack. Named for the classic Francois Truffaut film, and set in a former precious metal factory, Jules & Jim has a low-fi artistic bent. The ground-floor lobby and bar—both set off a central, glass-roofed courtyard and garden—feature a rotating collection of works by local painters, photographers, and graphic artists, as well as residential-style seating and bookshelves lined with bric-a-brac. Spread over three structures, the 23 rooms range in size; the “Jules” options in the main building are the smallest and best for solo travelers, while the “Hi-Macs,” “Sous Les Toits,” and “Duplex” accommodations work better for two guests or longer stays. Some categories include perks like terraces, sofa-beds, Nespresso machines, and views of Montmarte, but all come with Bluetooth sound systems, free Wi-Fi, rainfall showers, and access to 24-hour room service (note that there are no mini-bars or fridges).

It isn’t uncommon to see large tour buses idling in front of Merci, one of the city’s most popular home and design shops, as visitors alight, armed with canvas shopping totes and credit cards at the ready. The store’s philanthropic mission brings in droves of both tourists and locals—profits are donated to a charity in Madagascar that aids women and children. It is a veritable feel-good shopping destination. One caveat: The goods for sale don’t come cheap. While high-end homewares and designer duds don’t match all budgets, Merci’s space itself is undeniably cool. When I’m feeling strapped for cash and want the Merci experience, I head to its Used Book Café. Used books, old and new, decorate this cozy library-inspired café where I can read, write, people-watch (and play the guessing game of “What’s in that Merci bag?”), and rejuvenate with a freshly pressed lemonade. With each sip, a feeling of calm washes over me—a type of Zen harder to reach on the bustling streets of Paris. All beverages, hot or cold, are served with a bite-size piece of cake and a smile. Grab one of the mismatched vintage armchairs, the fresh scones with jam, or the American-sized lattes. But on a warm, sun-drenched Paris day, it’s the citronnade between shop-hopping that sets you right.

Menton is France’s lemon-growing capital, a fact that the whole town celebrates: The tiles in Menton’s Fontana Rossa gardens are painted with lemons, and local restaurants feature them in lick-your-spoon-clean soufflés. Every winter, the road into town closes for a lemon festival that features huge sculptures made of citrus fruits. It seems fitting, then, that a local shop, Maison Herbin, is dedicated to selling artisanal lemon jam, which is made in small batches to coax the fullest flavor from each fruit. The jam shop has become so famous that tours of the kitchen operations now require advance reservations. The shop offers much more than its citrus jams: Also on sale are strawberries preserved with pineapple, and tomatoes packed with eggplant and ginger, in addition to traditional candies, fruit jellies, local honey, condiments, and pickled onions.

The vast wilderness of Glacier 3000 continues to beguile visitors year after year. While you can ski here, most take a snow cat or dog sled across the plateau, or hike to the precipices and look down on the surrounding area. Glacier 3000 is also home to the world’s highest rollercoaster, which hurtles around corners and dips drastically, imitating the sensation of freefalling toward the ice at heart-racing speeds.

Commissioned in 2006 by Morocco’s King Mohammed VI, Royal Mansour is like a medina within the city’s Medina. Fifty-three private riads, each three stories high, feel like mini-palaces, with open-air courtyards and on-call butlers. Every detail is an homage to Moroccan craftsmanship, down to the gorgeous zellige ceramic tiles, intricately carved woods, and molded plasterwork created by local artisans.


From April onward, access to a pool is essential to your enjoyment of Marrakech—and canny entrepreneurs have ensured there’s something for every budget. The city has some mega-luxury treats within walking distance of the medina, like the poolside pavilions at the Royal Mansour’s Le Jardin and the pool that launched a thousand photo shoots at La Mamounia. Expect to spend upward of $80 just to get in. There are also plenty of accessibly priced options a little out of town. The top of our list are the ultra-deep, black-tiled, 115-foot long twin pools at the Beldi country club, where $40 gets you a pool pass, a sun lounger beneath the olive trees, and a slap-up barbecue lunch. It gets busy, though, so if you’re after something a little more serene, book a car to take you out to the Jnane Tamsna in the middle of the Palmeraie, where gloriously scented gardens and five serene turquoise pools are hidden away among the date palms. Pool access, including a three-course lunch that fuses Moroccan Mediterranean with more fiery Senegalese flavors, is about the same price. Out at the Fellah Hotel, up-close views of the mighty Atlas Mountains can be soaked up from a shabby-chic poolside terrace over lunch (not included) while rubbing shoulders with the foundation’s artists in residence. Pool access costs $22.

Featuring Polynesian-Asian-French-fusion cuisine, this contemporary-chic beachfront eatery in Maharepa, owned by French-born restaurateur Bruno Jamais, is a sunny spot where you can indulge in some upscale Papeete-meets-Paris dining—maybe paired with a glass of bubbly. Devotees adore dishes such as marinated tuna tartare with wasabi, avocado and fried shallots. A three-course lunch runs about $60 per person (without beverages).

This landmark hotel, built in the Swiss rustic style popular at the turn of the 19th century, has hosted Winston Churchill, Arturo Toscanini, Albert Einstein, the Shah of Iran, Henry Kissinger, and the Rolling Stones, among others. Situated high above Zurich, with a sweeping forest and a golf course for company, it offers breathtaking views of the city, the lake, and even—on clear days—the Alps.

Renovated in 2008 by Lord Foster for a cool 385 million Swiss francs, it now features a bold, contemporary edifice that wraps around the turreted original, two entirely new wings (the Spa Wing and the Golf Wing), and a completely revamped interior. While the rooms in the Main Building (the historic structure) are appointed with traditional furniture and hand-painted wallpaper to give a regal, turn-of-the-century feel, the newer rooms are equipped with balconies and bathrooms of white marble or sand-colored Jura limestone. Imagined by London-based United Designers, they also come with flat-screen televisions with integrated Bang & Olufsen CD and DVD players.

The four signature suites sprawl over hundreds of square meters and feature steam showers, whirlpool baths, and even (in one case) a grand piano. The hotel also offers an expansive spa and wellness center.

Why we love it: An all-inclusive resort with enough restaurants and activities to satisfy the whole family

The Highlights:
- Reservation-free dining at four on-site restaurants included in your stay
- The Clubhouse Kids Club, with daily activities at no extra charge
- Diamond Club perks like butler service, discounted spa services, and access to a private beach

The Review:
Opened in March 2020 on Tamarind Bay, Royalton Grenada brings a trusted brand to the Spice Island. At this all-inclusive property, just like at other Royalton Luxury Resorts, everything from no-reservation dining and drinks to non-motorized watersports, a variety of workout classes, and access to tennis courts, pools, and a pristine, white-sand beach are part of the stay. Guests can also look forward to an international buffet at Gourmet Marche, plus a la carte options like Taj, an Indian-inspired restaurant; Grazie, an Italian trattoria; and Ma Maison, a French bistro. There are even five bars and two cafes. Perfect for families, the resort features a supervised kids’ club for children ages 4 through 12, as well as activities like snorkeling, kayaking, and live performances at an open-air theater. When adults need a break, there’s the Royal Spa, complete with a hydrotherapy circuit and full range of massage, facial, and body treatments.

At 269 rooms, Royalton Grenada is one of the larger properties on the island, but accommodations are still sleek, done up in whites, woods, and royal blue accents. Each has either a balcony or terrace, plus a rain shower and Royalton’s signature DreamBed. For guests wanting a bit more, the on-site Diamond Club offers larger suites that include access to an exclusive beach and pool, an upgraded room service menu, butler service, discounts on spa treatments, and admission to the Diamond Club Lounge, which is filled with complimentary snacks, appetizers, and desserts.

The founders of Soho House and the developers behind such buzzy hotels as New York City’s The NoMad teamed up to turn the historic Midland Bank building into—what else?—a one-stop lifestyle hub that’s drawing regulars of both the suit-and-tie and hipster variety. Part-hotel, part-member’s club, The Ned (named for the moniker of legendary, 19th-century architect Edwin Lutyens, who first envisioned the building) features eight dining options set around the former banking hall, from Italian, French, and Californian spots to a New-York-style deli, Pan-Asian favorite, and lounge for an overflowing, British-style Sunday feast, complete with a Bloody Mary bar and mimosa trolley. Hotel guests also have access to a downstairs bar, and a wellness level with a nail bar, gym, separate hair salon and barbershop, Cowshed Spa, traditional Moroccan hammam, and vitamin IV drips by The Elixir Clinic. The spa level also features an indoor pool, while the Ned’s Club Upstairs offers a rooftop pool and restaurant (with views out to St. Paul’s Cathedral) to Club members or those staying in higher-category rooms.

The entire property is done up in cool, vintage-inspired design, including the 250 guestrooms, which range in category from Crash Pad and Cosy to Heritage and six types of suites. All feature 1920s flair, such as mirrored cocktail cabinets, wingback chairs, and Jazz Age motifs, as well as marble-mosaic bathrooms stocked with rainfall showers and 10 full-size Cowshed products. Suites have bonus perks like dining areas, bathtubs, and upgraded views. Take all the pictures you want in your room, but Insta-addicts may want to leave their phones behind when in select public areas: there’s a photo ban in any place that’s part of the Club membership, including that stunning rooftop.

The Alvear Palace is a Buenos Aires landmark. Dreamed up by businessman and socialite Dr. Rafael de Miero, who wanted to bring back 1920s Paris grandeur to his hometown, the hotel was erected in 1932 on the corner of Avenida Alvear and Ayacucho after a decade of on-and-off construction. Then after much fanfare, it expanded in 1940, taking over an old mansion next door. For several decades, Alvear Palace was owned by the Duke of Hornes, a cousin of King Juan Carlos I, though Argentina’s economic situation saw the hotel’s reputation steadily decline. Since Anglo-Argentine developer David Sutton Dabbah (also co-owner of Patagonia’s Llao Llao Hotel & Resort) purchased the property in 1984, the Palace has been renovated and renovated again, top-to-bottom in 2011, which lowered the room count and revived the lavish Louis XV furnishings, and most recently in 2016, with the debut of sleek rooftop suites, an indoor pool, solarium, and a rooftop bar. Bathroom amenities are custom-made by Hermès. The lobby bar exudes Belle Epoque elegance, and many of the rooms, while still as picture-perfect as ever, could be mistaken for another century. There are touches of modern luxury in the spa, but over-the-top opulence is still the dominant theme running through the signature French restaurant and afternoon tea, as high society lingers.