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As one of the most innovative players on the Marrakech restaurant scene, Kamal Laftimi spearheads projects that are nothing if not showstoppers. This buzzy, green-on-green–tiled riad, bristling with courtyard banana trees, is a case in point. It’s a hip hangout by day for locals and expats who meet for coffees throughout the morning and pop into celebrated kaftan designer Norya ayroN’s little boutique, which occupies a small space on the first floor. By night, it sparkles with the light of hundreds of glittering candles while large extended families and cooing couples gather over Moroccan classics such as pigeon pastilla, vegetarian couscous, and chicken tagine with olives and raisins, as well as a handful of crowd-pleasing classics such as steak frites and burgers (no alcohol served).

Why we love it: A peaceful eco-lodge on Dominica’s “wild” southeast coast

Highlights:
- A “barefoot luxury” vibe
- Proximity to the beach
- Villas surrounded by a working fruit plantation

The Review:
An agritourism pioneer, Citrus Creek blends hospitality with a tropical fruit plantation on Dominica’s rugged east coast. In building the resort, owner Hervé “RV” Nizard repurposed parts of his 20-acre farm in Taberi, adding a dozen self-catering cottages and villas. Ranging from one to three bedrooms, the accommodations include a safari tent and a stone tree house. Focused on nature, Citrus Creek trades TVs for rainforest hikes and a swimming pool for plunges in a pristine river. The property also lacks air-conditioning, but shade trees and prevailing winds keep it comfortable year-round and help maintain a “barefoot luxury” vibe.

Each room has a kitchen, stocked with breakfast goodies like tea, coffee, bread, butter, jam, and honey. For those who would rather dine out, a cafe offers half-board plans and operates every day from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. (or later with reservations). Take your dinner on the veranda overlooking the river, choosing among French-Caribbean delicacies like onion pie, caramel pork, grilled lionfish, and smoked marlin quiche. Other on-site perks include a tour desk, car rentals, and, soon, a pier set within the jungle that will be equipped to welcome sailboats.

There are no boats here, where the Han River flows into the Yellow Sea--this is the watery mine-laden western limit of the DMZ. On a trip to Korea in the mid-1990’s, one of my uncles took us to visit Aegibong, a 500-ft.-high hill that presides over the estuary. From the top of the hill we could see across and into North Korea. The first thing that struck me was the lack of trees--the mountainsides are completely deforested, except for the inaccessible fringe of riverbank. As far as we could see on this clear early autumn day, the slopes above the golden rice paddies were denuded of trees. When the wind blew in the right direction, we could hear propaganda from the loudspeakers on the north bank. A few months later, Kim Il Sung would die, and the North Korean famine would intensify; it’s estimated that up to 1 in 10 North Koreans perished during the mid-to-late 1990’s...all of this while Seoul, just to the southeast of the scene in this photo, would continue to grow into one of the most vibrantly capitalistic cities anywhere... South Korea would morph into the most Internet-connected country in the world, while the North would devolve into a place where doctors have to scrounge in the hills for edible weeds...

The MacRitchie Reservoir is one of four reservoirs in the heart of Singapore at the Central Catchment Nature Reserve, where the surrounding forests are protected as national parks to ensure the quality of the water. Though unfortunately not accessible to the public, the ruins of a once-massive Shinto shrine built by the Japanese during their World War II occupation of Singapore are hidden in the overgrown, off-trail jungle near the northwestern corner of the reservoir. There is more to Singapore than meets the eye.

Running along the side of Diocletian’s Palace is the Riva, a seafront promenade lined with tall palm trees, bustling cafés, and shaded benches. Stretching from the bronze map of Split to the popular Marmontova shopping strip, it’s one of the busier places in town. Join the fashion-conscious locals gossiping over coffee at sunny cafés, or simply hang out here while you wait for your ferry to the islands.

Located in the exclusive Banjara Hills neighborhood, Lamakaan is an open event space that promotes art, literature, and dialogue. The non-profit center hosts concerts, book releases, plays, seminars, and poetry readings. Lamakaan also presents film screenings and exhibitions, including the Queer Art Fest and a monthly flea market held by the Tree Huggers Club. Check out the calendar for upcoming events and experience an eccentric space where tradition meets modernity. Not interested in the art scene? Grab a chai and samosa from the canteen and surf with free wifi.

Among Playa Avellana’s numerous pleasures, the small-town, almost-no-cars vibe sets the scene for true relaxation—as well as fun. Look for Lola’s—perhaps the hippest spot in town—in the tiny business district and try out fresh, locally sourced pizzas, mahi-mahi tacos, and veggie burgers; smoothie lovers will go nuts. Locals and visitors pack in under the almond trees late mornings after surf excursions and other adventures. Be on the lookout for Lolita, the piglet daughter of the original Lola (sadly no longer with us) as she frolics in the sand or ranges across the property.

This venue is now closed.

In a decorative downtown neighborhood surrounded by palm trees and mid-century architecture sits the El Dorado Scottsdale. Built in 1960, the hotel’s 33 apartment-style rooms are furnished with retro appliances and eclectic touches – and they all come with their own kitchen! The owners have kept much of the building’s original design, but updated it with a fresh look and fun amenities, including a pool and hot tub, barbecue area, fire pit and bikes to explore the area.

Las Vegas may be seated in the heart of the Desert Southwest, but there are still a few places to pluck apples from trees and choose the biggest pumpkins from right off the vine. Gilcrease Orchard is one of those places. The orchard is only open seasonally, but when it is open, people descend upon it in herds to get their hands on several varieties of apples, leafy greens, peaches, pears, plums and many row crops. Grab a gallon of the orchard’s famous apple cider if you decide to visit!

Also known as Old Navarino Castle, Paleokastro—built by the Frankish ruler Nicholas II de St. Omer around 1278—is located above Voidokila Beach in Messinia’s Mediterranean area. Make sure to bring your camera, as a trek to the castle awards panoramic views of the Ionian Sea, the city of Pylos, Voidokilia Bay, the Romanou-Petrochori beaches, Gialova Divari lagoon, the olive tree-lined Peloponnesian Hills, the Sykias chanel, Sphacteria island, and Navarino Bay. When hiking, you’ll be taking the same path as you would to reach Nestor’s Cave, a popular cave in Greek mythology.

To stay at the Verana, an eco-lodge outside Puerto Vallarta, guests take a 30-minute boat ride to the village of Yelapa. (Dolphins accompanied me on the journey.) Scattered on a jungle hillside are eight variegated cottages and stand-alone rooms. My cottage, Palapa, had no walls, which maximized the views of the Bay of Banderas. A gang of chatty wild parakeets provided my wake-up call. The hotel spa offers facials and massages, and you can relax by the pool, which is crafted from concrete tinted in the hues of the local trees, rocks, and clouds. —Karen Catchpole

Cristina Hoyos, probably the most famous flamenco dancer of all time (her image from the 1960s is often used to represent the iconic flamenco dancer, with a slicked-back raven-black chignon and a fiercely passionate demeanor), founded this museum full of interactive exhibits. It also features a popular nightly flamenco performance. Even if you can’t make the live performance, video displays tell the story of the history and various styles of this noisy, sensual and compelling art form.

Set in a tropical garden in the suburb of Fannie Bay, this superb museum and gallery is the best place to learn all about the art, history and culture of the Top End (the nickname for this northernmost section of the Northern Territory). The excellent collection of indigenous art includes both traditional and contemporary works. One gallery is devoted to the tragic events of Cyclone Tracy, the natural disaster of 1974; another covers the boats of the Pacific Islands. The museum’s most popular exhibit may well be Sweetheart: the stuffed carcass of a five-meter (16-foot) male saltwater crocodile that once terrorized the billabongs (waterways) outside Darwin.

Named for the wife of Governor Lachlan Macquarie, who presided over New South Wales in the early 1800s, this site provides one of the most spectacular views in town. Find the historic carved-rock ledge in the Royal Botanic Garden, east of the Opera House, where you’ll drink in a vista encompassing the Bridge, harbor and distant mountains, along with historic sites like Kirribilli House (the prime minister’s residence), the island of Fort Denison and the Navy Dockyards at Woolloomooloo.

I’m not one to skip breakfast, especially in Italy, where thoughts of cappuccino, pastries, and local ham tend to rouse me early from slumber. But on my first morning at the Hotel Sant’Angelo, in the old quarter of Matera, I was having a hard time dragging myself from the creature comforts of my cave. Staying in a cave, it turns out, can be surprisingly pleasant. There was just one small window high overhead, but the room and adjoining bath were in no way dank—a testament to the natural ventilation that keeps the caves cool and comfortable. The wavy contours of the white tufa-rock walls conjured a feeling of being enveloped in some primordial womb. Yet there were modern amenities: luxurious linens, Internet service, a telephone. Fred Flintstone never had it this good. I might have snoozed until noon, were it not for an impatient mate eager to see the sights. We had arrived in the village the previous night after a long drive across the treeless plains of the Basilicata region, located at the instep of Italy’s boot. Matera is an enchanted world of Stone Age splendor. Known as the sassi (Italian for stones), the bisque-colored hilltop cave homes comprise one of the oldest continuously inhabited places on earth, according to UNESCO. The caves have provided shelter for more than 7,000 years. A millennium ago, shepherds inhabited them and carved churches into the rock; during the Renaissance, the area prospered and elaborate buildings were carved out, the excess tufa sculpted into ornate facades. By the early 1900s, the sassi had fallen into neglect. Families and their animals crowded into the caves for warmth, and disease was rampant. When writer Carlo Levi brought this tragic state of affairs to light with his 1945 book Christ Stopped At Eboli, the Italian authorities moved residents en masse to modern housing—leaving the sassi abandoned, save for the occasional crew brought by film makers (Pier Paolo Pasolini and Mel Gibson among them) in search of a biblical-looking backdrop. It was only in the 1990s that the Italian government encouraged people to move back. Residents revamped the cave dwellings as homes, restaurants, and inns. When the Sant’Angelo opened in 2004, it was the area’s first luxury hotel. The 19 cave rooms are sparsely but tastefully appointed with rustic wooden furniture. Some carved decorations—crosses, hearts, an owl—date back hundreds of years. Fossilized shells embedded in the walls reveal that the region once lay underwater. Eventually, my fiancé and I did emerge from our cave to wander the town’s ancient alleys. A local guide named Dora Cappiello took us into some of the 150 chiese rupestri (rock churches), where she pointed out wine troughs and frescoes of San Nicola, the patron saint of local shepherds. We also visited a cave dwelling that had been restored to resemble its state when the caves were equal parts manger and living space.
Simple, delicious meals punctuated our explorations. The curvy walls of Baccanti, a cave restaurant, created a private nook where we feasted on silky pappardelle pasta with a cinghiale (wild boar) ragu, accompanied by a dry, fruity red aglianico from the nearby Vulture wine region. Tired and sated after a full day, we headed back to our cave—on moonless nights, a flashlight or trail of bread crumbs is advised for the stumble back to the hotel—where the promise of a deep, sound night’s sleep awaited. —Amy Cortese Hotel Sant’Angelo, 39/0835-314010, from $211 for a double. This appeared in the March/April 2010 issue.