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With a name like that, it’s no wonder this boutique hotel is a prime spot for romantic getaways in the Yucatan’s capital city. The two pink-hued colonial mansions are as charming as they are camera-friendly, bedecked in vibrant modern art and picturesque patios and outdoor corners that mix lush greenery and sleek furnishings. Life here feels like its perpetually viewed through rose-colored glasses, and it’s not just the walls: the spa offers an enticing menu of xocolatherapies; the tequila bar has over 250 varieties to sample; the oasis-like swimming pool is a palm-shaded spot for afternoon dips; and there’s even a chocolate shop on-site. Guests can dine on gourmet fusion fare in the restaurant, or head up to the rooftop lounge for cocktails with a side of live jazz. As for the guest rooms, they’re no less indulgent with their rose and cocoa palettes and patterned-tile floors; minimalist bathrooms have sumptuous open-air stone tubs, large walk-in rainfall showers, and handmade chocolate soaps.

Koreans are masters of skin care, and Korean beauty products are sweeping the globe. One of the most popular beauty brands is a label called Skin Food. The brand takes natural ingredients such as celery, broccoli and coconut (basically a salad for your face) and turns them into cleansers, toners, masks and makeup. Add to that colorful packaging, affordable prices and lots of free samples, and you’ve got yourself a must on your shopping itinerary for your trip to Seoul. Skin Food and other beauty stores aren’t hard to find—they can be found in almost every mall, subway station and shopping district of the city.

At the mouth of the Amazon, Marajó is the world’s largest fluvial (that is, river) island. With an area of 40,100 square kilometers (15,500 square miles), it is just a little smaller than Switzerland yet with a population of only some 250,000 residents. During the rainy season, much of this flat island becomes a vast lake. It is a popular destination for surfers, given the large waves created by the island’s tidal bore, and bird-watchers, who come in search of colorful species from scarlet ibises to blue herons.

Despite being so close to the harbor and the ocean, Reykjavík’s city lake has a charm and atmosphere all its own. Bordered by a main road on one side and a string of pretty, colorful residences on the other, the natural, stone-edged Tjörnin is home to a community of ducks, swans, and geese that hang out here even in winter. A popular strolling spot to clear the cobwebs after a night out, it’s also often busy with local families and visitors, who come armed with bread for the waterfowl (but beware of the seagulls—they can be aggressive). The nearby Reykjavík City Hall is also worth a look for its huge 3-D relief map of Iceland, featuring clearly marked glaciers, volcanoes, and fjords.

Both beginner and experienced kayakers will have fun on this leisurely (and super-easy) paddle across Mendenhall Lake. (Both guided and unguided options are available.) The paddling is, really, just 10 percent of the fun—maybe 25 percent. As you cross the lake you’ll encounter icebergs aplenty that decided to skip out on their glacier parent in favor of a solo float. Paddle across the lake to the frigid waterfall and, of course, to the face of Mendenhall Glacier itself. Photos of the 13-mile-long glacier’s colors won’t quite do the real thing justice, but snap away anyway. Your eyes will be blasted and soothed and dazzled by all the icy crayon colors you can imagine, opaque white to clear ice to a stunning robin’s-egg blue. Just don’t get too close to the glacier or the icebergs: Glaciers calve and icebergs can flip. What you’re seeing above the water? That’s just a small part of the icebergs’ good looks.

Cuquita Cookita is the latest venture from celebrated local chef Cuquita Arias de Calvo. She serves up “gourmet-homemade” in this colorful eat-in or take-out café. Desserts and other sweets are a specialty too, like her banana cake and lime brownies (among the biggest crowd-pleasers). The establishment also sells a variety of culinary items, including Cuquita’s latest book, Panamá Chombo Style, which recently received first prize at the Gourmet World Book Awards, in Yantai, China, in the best African cookbook outside Africa category. In Panama, a chombo is a man of African descent. With the book’s publication, Arias de Calvo pays special homage to Afro-Panamanian cuisine.

It’s a mouthful to pronounce, but it’ll prove to be among the most authentic San Miguel experiences you’ll ever enjoy. The city hosts over 700 weddings annually, and the prelude to almost every ceremony is a callejoneada, a parade in which the wedding party wanders through cobblestoned streets, tequila in hand, smiles alit, and voices singing. Giant mojigangas—papier-mâché puppets towering 10 feet in the air and dancing wildly—will visually announce the callejoneada, then you’ll start to hear the mariachi tunes. An adorable burro, adorned with colorful paper flowers, pulls a tequila cart from which all attendees indulge. The spirit is contagious, even watched from the curb.

San Miguel is chock-full of unique shops offering everything including art, antiques, collectibles, and trinkets. There’s something for everyone, from furniture to jewelry, at Mixta, a shop housed in a beautiful 18th-century structure on Calle Pila Seca. The idea—as the name suggests—is to mix local design with international ideas. As you find yourself seduced by the shop’s mishmash of old photography, shawls woven by an indigenous women’s cooperative, designer dresses, reproduction Eames chairs, silkscreen-print handbags, and colorful Chiapaneco table linens, the common denominator shines through, bright and clear: a brilliant eye for beauty.

In the colorful seaside town of Dingle, you’ll find the Chart House, a lovely modern restaurant in a low, stone cottage with a garden that provides many of the goodies found on the menu. Dishes are served with a creative twist, including black pudding wrapped in filo pastry with pear and lime chutney, and roast rack of Kerry lamb with cumin-spiced red onion marmalade. And of course, Dingle Bay is the source for much of what goes into the fresh seafood chowder. The limited early-evening menu, served from 6 to 7 p.m., is a good value.

Walk down this narrow alley connecting Valencia and Mission Streets and you’ll be surrounded by dozens of colorful murals by local artists depicting environmental and social justice, artistic freedom, and community collaboration. Funded by the nonprofit Intersection for the Arts, more than 700 murals have been painted in this vibrant display of public art since CAMP began in 1992. In a city known for its rising rents and gentrification—and especially in the Mission neighborhood at its epicenter—Clarion Alley is a sight worth visiting.

Colorado has more “fourteeners”—mountain peaks higher than 14,000 feet—than any other state (53, compared to No. 2, Alaska, with 29). The northernmost of those Rocky Mountains giants is also one of the most popular, mostly since it’s so easy to see from the lowlands. A prominent diamond shape sits below the summit and is a favorite rock-climbing wall. But those keen to hike it usually start in the dark hours of the early morning to tackle the standard 8.4-mile Keyhole route. The trail starts at 9,400 feet and gains more than 5,000 feet. Around 11,000 feet, the trees thin out and the view down the slope appears, as does a nice look at the distinctive diamond face. The trail continues around a subpeak called Mount Lady Washington, and into the boulder field that leads up to the namesake Keyhole—the gateway to the last push to the summit.

Sure, it’s the largest town on St. Croix, but it’s the charming Danish-influenced architecture that makes it most noteworthy. The city center is a protected national park lined with candy-colored buildings and historic churches, while the streets are made of cobblestones and punctuated by stone archways. At the waterfront, which was a focal point of the island’s sugar trade, a wharf is populated by restaurants, bars and water sports shops. There’s also an 18th-century fort.

Le Viaduc des Arts, an abandoned railway line, was converted into an elevated park, and the arches below it were turned into ateliers for artisans. Parasolerie Heurtault is one of the workshops worth a detour. Master artisan Michel Heurtault created corsetry in haute couture houses before pursuing his childhood passion of making and restoring bespoke umbrellas. In the showroom, ready-made umbrellas and precious handles fill shallow drawers. Rolls of silk and natural fiber fabrics are gathered into colorful bouquets in the workshop beyond. In addition to providing shelter from the rain, Monsieur Heurtault will repair family heirlooms and makes spectacular pieces for period films.

A classic fish house in the sleepy village of Savaneta, Zeerover is all about fresh, Aruban-style seafood. Cooled by ocean breezes, the spot may feel like a bit of a dive to some, but its fish comes straight from the sea—in fact, you can watch from the restaurant’s perch on the pier as fishermen pull in their catch. The menu reflects whatever the boats bring in that day, often snapper, wahoo, or even barracuda, and includes savory sides like banana hasa (plantains), pan bati (corn bread pancakes), and funchi (fritters). Be sure to also try the shrimp; the peel-and-eat delicacies are always cooked to perfection. Note: The restaurant is closed on Mondays.

Some find this narrow, neon-lit French Quarter street appealing, others appalling. But it’s worth a stroll either way. It’s as if all the sins of mankind and then some were rounded up and corralled here—tawdry strip shows, cheap and potent drinks, the coveting of neighbors’ wives, petty larceny, big-ass beers, bad cover bands, and so on. (Bad cover bands were not technically mentioned in the Old Testament, but to many they’re the street’s most shameful sin.) The heart of the party zone stretches eight blocks from Iberville Street to St. Philip Street, with the thickest concentration of bars on the Iberville end. New Orleans allows alcoholic drinks outside, as long as they’re in plastic cups, or “go-cups"—meaning you can roam the length of Bourbon Street with your beer or hurricane in hand.