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“Ready!” I grip the bar tightly and lean forward. “Set!” I bend my knees and my heart starts racing. “HUP!” Before I have time for doubts, I take a deep breath, and jump off the platform. The next 40 seconds are a pure adrenaline rush as I soar through the air on a flying trapeze—a thrilling introduction to my first class at the satellite Trapeze School N.Y. in the Navy Yard district of Washington, D.C. I try to stay calm and oriented as my teacher yells instructions to swing my legs and lift my knees up to hang from the bar. This simple move is the foundation for many tricks that we six beginners in the class get to practice many times. By the end of the two-hour class, I’m already doing flips into the net and performing basic catches with one of the instructors. I start to wonder if my childhood dreams of joining the circus are possible after all. Class is over, I’m tired and my legs already ache from the climbs up the ridiculously long trapeze ladder (for me, the scariest part of the class). The school’s motto was right: “Forget about fear. Worry about addiction.” The school offers a variety of trapeze, aerial, trampoline, and acrobatics classes for adults and children.

Outerlands is an Outer Sunset institution. The small restaurant near Ocean Beach serves local, organic cuisine in a rustic-chic setting. Covered floor-to-ceiling in warm, rough-hewn wood, the interior invites lingering over an artisan cocktail or a ginger-lemon apple cider. Lunch and dinner feature such refined but hearty options as cast-iron grilled cheese brushed with garlic oil and slow-cooked lamb shank with nasturtium leaf pesto. The weekend brunch draws a crowd and is worth the often lengthy wait. Standouts include the Dutch pancakes and the house-roasted turkey. You can always make the most of waiting for a table and head to the beach for a quick jaunt before you indulge.

To come to Fes and skip the Jewish Quarter is to miss out on a massive chunk of the city’s history and identity. After the Sephardic expulsion from Andalusia in 1438, a walled Jewish quarter was established in Fes. It was named the Mellah, meaning “salt marsh” in Arabic. The Jewish community was protected and accepted to the point where a Jew was appointed to be a vizier, or government minister, in 1465. The appointment unfortunately stirred up a wave of anti-Jewish protests and, on May 14, 1465, a massacre of nearly all of the Mellah’s inhabitants. When the next influx of exiles from Spain arrived in 1492, they bought with them an injection of wealth and creativity that allowed the community to prosper until the 16th century. Sadly, the next few centuries saw a steady decline in population: Only 2,500 Jews are said to remain in Morocco, some 150 or less in Fes. This rather handsome neighborhood with its enclosed hanging balconies reveals fascinating history to those willing to look. Don’t miss the atmospheric cemetery, the 17th-century Ibn Danan Synagogue (which can be accessed if you ask the guard nicely and reward him with a few dirhams), and the daily markets. You’ll also find the best goldsmiths and jewelers in Fes here.

A short drive south of Da Nang, Hoi An is a spellbinding UNESCO World Heritage site, with intact 16th-century architecture that celebrates its origins as a trading port that long welcomed merchant ships from China, Japan, and Europe. The Old Town on the Thu Bon River has a number of sights that visitors must check off their lists. These include the covered bridge, also known as the Japanese Bridge; gorgeous riverside French-colonial buildings; traditional merchant shop-houses; historic pagodas and temples; ornate assembly halls where Chinese immigrants would congregate; and the town’s tailors, for custom garments. But the greatest joy of Hoi An comes from wandering round its quiet streets—the town center is car-free and a blissfully pleasant place to walk, especially at night, when it’s lit by red lanterns strung on the exteriors of buildings.

Looking like the graph of a boom-and-bust financial market, the Riverside Museum’s jagged tooth–like facade, designed by the late Iraqi-British “starchitect” Zaha Hadid, is an iconic bit of development on the banks of the River Clyde. Inside, you’ll find Glasgow’s extensive collection of all things related to transportation, from skateboards and locomotives to prams, cars, and an Imperial Stormtrooper. Wander through the interactive displays to visit city shops, bars, and subway stops, then climb aboard a train, tram, or bus and get a feel for old public transportation. Visitors can also discover Glasgow’s rich shipbuilding history, explore the car and motorbike walls, and help put out a blaze with an interactive fire engine. Before leaving, head outdoors to the quayside to see the Tall Ship Glenlee—one of only five Clyde-built sailing ships that’s still afloat.

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.

The ire of Mount Kilauea reforges the world before visitors’ eyes. Nicknamed “the World’s Only Drive-In Volcano,” it’s produced serious lava every day since 1983 with no signs of stopping. Pele—the fire goddess who lives here, according to Hawaiian lore—is on a roll. Occasionally the lava flows spill into the sea, releasing stunning plumes of steam. Don’t miss the petroglyphs, lava tube, lush rain forest, and more than 150 miles of trail, including the four-mile Kilauea Iki loop. The drive here from Kona or Kohala can take two and a half hours, a bit of a long day, so consider reserving accommodations in the town of Volcano. You’ll have plenty of time to explore this otherworldly landscape, and even see the lava glowing in the dark!

Smack dab in the center of the bustling financial district, these parallel lanes are lined with shops with a row of stalls running down the middle of each street. The twin shopping strips are packed with discounted clothes of all kinds, plus shoes, bags, and costume jewelry. The colorful, frenetic scene is part of the shopping experience, and unlike other cheap and cheerful street markets in Hong Kong, this one is centrally located. No schlepping to the far corners of the island to satisfy retail impulses. Pick up silk, leather, watches, Chinese outfits for kids, and all manner of souvenirs.

Named for the overnight train that served Santa Barbara from 1910 to 1968, the Lark restaurant showcases the Central Coast’s seasonal bounty. Located in the Santa Barbara Fish Market Building, in the heart of the city’s Funk Zone, the innovative restaurant combines a farm-to-table ethos with a family-style approach. During most months, the outdoor courtyard seating is as convivial as the tables in the dining room. The menu of small plates is organized by their ingredients’ places of origin (farm, ranch, or ocean): crispy brussels sprouts include sweet medjool dates as well as spicy serrano chilies; pickled fennel and compressed Granny Smith apples accompany the grilled Kurobata pork belly; and passion-fruit vinaigrette and fried avocado enhance the flavor of Japanese hamachi collar. Larger platters are meant to be shared, and restaurant regulars often choose one or two (the Baharat spiced cauliflower and Israeli couscous is a favorite) along with several smaller plates. Pro tip: While it’s tempting to fill up on the herbed popcorn that’s delivered to your table the instant you’re seated, slow down, order a craft cocktail, and make sure you save room for the main event.

The city’s most emblematic daily flea market occupies a couple of old hangars on the road to the Palmeraie. Design-loving Marrakchis and their Western counterparts have haunted it for years, looking for bargains with which to decorate their homes. One section is dedicated exclusively to ancient cedarwood doors and wrought-iron windows—all of which can be shipped for a price—but it’s the smaller shops that offer up the real gems. Every time La Mamounia has been renovated, for example, much of its furniture and accessories end up at Souk el Khemis; it’s said locally that nearly everyone has some piece of memorabilia or other from the hotel in their home. These days it’s rather less reliable in terms of finding something fabulous, and prices have increased as traders have gotten wise to the desirability of tulip tables and chairs, butterfly chairs, and cowry-shell lanterns. But those prepared to dig deep and haggle hard are still likely to come away with a gem or three. Indeed, the main problem with spending a morning at Souk el Khemis is the ensuing need to buy a house to put it all in.

If visiting a miniature version of a country the size of a postage stamp makes no sense to you, stay away from Madurodam, a top tourist attraction in Den Haag featuring historic Dutch towns, ports, canals, roads and monuments re-created on a 1/25 scale. On the other hand, if you fancy learning about the history of a nation that would be underwater were it not for Dutch ingenuity, by all means visit this interactive park that tells the story behind the battle against water, as well as many historic venues that still exist in Holland today.

Having recently celebrated its 40th anniversary, Cafe Gandolfi is a bona fide dining landmark in the Merchant City district of central Glasgow. It’s aged remarkably well, thanks to its organic timber furniture by Tim Stead and simple but innovative cooking with mostly seasonal ingredients. Classics in the Gandolfi canon include the smoked haddock chowder known as Cullen skink and the Stornoway black pudding (from the Isle of Lewis), served with mushrooms and pancakes.

Tempted by trendier bistros in the area, tourists rarely stop by this nondescript café on the corner of the Rue des Rosiers at the St.-Ouen flea market unless they are gypsy jazz fans. Aficionados from across the globe know that La Chope is the place to hear the best of gypsy jazz in Paris and where the spirit of Django Reinhardt lingers. Businessman (and jazz guitarist) Marcel Campion saved the historic spot from destruction, opening a jazz school upstairs, sponsoring master classes, and providing accommodations for wandering talent. Concerts are held every Saturday and Sunday from 12:30 p.m. to 7 p.m. Reservations not required.

L’Alcova, within the posh Ca’Sagredo Hotel, is an intimate dining experience with just nine tables on a delightful panoramic terrace fronting the Grand Canal. It serves a traditional Venetian menu that changes daily and is sourced from the Rialto Market across the street. Dishes like monkfish with cherries and wild baby asparagus, and burrata-filled tortellini with clams, fresh basil, capers, and pine nuts, are paired with a well-curated wine list representing Italy’s different wine regions. The desserts here are stellar, so try to save room. It’s also not unusual for the chef to come chat with diners post-meal. This is a great romantic pick—just make sure to reserve ahead.

This was the market that made me want to live in Paris. On Tuesdays, Fridays, and Sundays, bakers sell their own homemade breads and farmers have tables with their precious homegrown raspberries. Don’t miss the potato pancakes and the rotisserie chickens cooking at the entrance on rue du Cherche Midi.