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There’s a comfortable stillness to the acres of Ojai Valley Inn and Spa that’s apparent even when a cacophony of voices fills the air. Sunlight shines brightly against the resort’s white façade, which gleams in unison from the restaurants, accommodations, spa, and pools outstretched on shaded grounds. Flowers – from roses to bougainvillea, lavender to jasmine – line pathways where views of the surrounding rolling mountains peek out between buildings. And even when bicyclists, pedestrians, and the occasional golf carts use those pathways, the motion is as calm and quick as the breeze. Originally built in 1923 as a country club and golf course, the inn has never lost its luxurious appeal for intimate, quiet privacy. Old Hollywood stars have come and gone through its Spanish-style property, and today, the resort is still known as a place where big names can tee off or swim undisturbed. Its more than 300 guest rooms are tucked away in a series of terracotta-topped buildings that share a style of calm blue and white shades. Many rooms feature fireplaces enclosed by a sitting area, and private balconies are scented by the surrounding blooms. In the morning, sip a Keurig coffee from the soft white sheets of bed, or step outside for the view. Then, walk or bike to breakfast before a swim in the newly opened, “adults only” pool.

Huayna Picchu is the landmark peak at Machu Picchu from which the classic, shot-from-above postcard photos are typically taken. While the views are spectacular, of course, the trail is not easy, studded with precarious, sometimes uneven stone steps, and often directly flanked by sheer drop-offs (thus probably out of the question for anyone with a fear of heights). While most hike to the top and back, you can also go up and around to the other side, with a visit to the Temple of the Moon/Great Cavern along the way. Admittance to Huayna Picchu is limited and sells out two or three months in advance; pay for your entrance as part of your Machu Picchu admission.

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.

Mexico City is full of architectural masterpieces, but there is nothing like the experience of being inside a Barragán-designed home. Very few are still in good shape and open to the public, including Casa Luis Barragán (the architect’s former home and studio that’s the only private residency to be named a UNESCO World Heritage site). Once you’ve visited this more famous house, get in touch with the owners of Casa Gilardi and ask for a tour. The last project Barragán completed before he died, Casa Gilardi is known for the huge jacaranda tree decorating its interior courtyard, and for a striking hallway with vertical apertures that bounce sunlight against brightly painted yellow walls and out into an electric blue room with an indoor pool. The artist James Turrell spent a month living in the house, taking black and white photos to study Barragán’s use of light.

Since 1862, fresh flowers and plants have arrived by barge from the Dutch countryside to Amsterdam. While this assemblage of flora still shows up daily, it comes by van, not boat, to the Bloemenmarkt, the world’s only floating flower market. Here, you can browse 15 fragrant stalls on houseboats permanently moored on the Singel. Now the best-known flower market in Holland, this colorful attraction is packed with tourists on sunny weekends. Still, it’s a great place to pick up Dutch tulip bulbs in a plethora of shades and varieties, as well as many other types of bulbs, seeds, cut blooms, and houseplants. Ship a bag of bulbs home, or grab a souvenir at one of several shops hawking T-shirts, mugs, clogs, Dutch cheese, and other fun and inexpensive gifts.

Les Houches bills itself as Chamonix’s go-to resort for families. And nothing encapsulates its relaxed, enjoyable atmosphere more than its outdoor ice rink. Located in the heart of the village, this popular spot not only provides a beautiful backdrop of Mont Blanc (check out the late-afternoon illuminations), it’s also free to use. Once the last shards of crimson glow have left Europe’s famous mountain range, skaters carve along under the stars—as late as 11 p.m. on Wednesdays and Fridays, with music playing throughout. Note: The rink is open from late December through the end of March, and ice-skate rentals cost € ($3.50).

A contemporary take on traditional lodge-style accommodations, Scribner’s Catskill Lodge is a cozy, 38-room inn, housed in a circa-1966 building that was revamped in 2016. While rooms tend to have their own look and feel, most share more than a few common elements, including patterned carpets, dark maple floors, and modern furniture. The majority are geared toward couples but there’s also a suite with bunk beds, which is perfect for families or groups of friends who don’t mind shacking up together. Amenities here are geared toward weekenders seeking a break from the Big City and include regular yoga classes along with afternoon DJ performances, meditation sessions, and even healing sound baths. There’s also a restaurant, Prospect, with ever-changing dishes like roasted chicken, burgers, and duck carnitas.

Each year, six million–acre Denali National Park and Preserve gets roughly 400,000 visitors, who come in hopes of spotting the park’s own version of the Big Five (grizzly bears, moose, caribou, wolves, and flocks of Dall sheep) and to take in majestic views of the highest mountain peak in the country. Only a fraction of that number, however, escape the crowds and tour buses to make their way to the tail end of the 92-mile-long Park Road, which winds deep into the heart of Denali’s rugged backcountry to the old gold town of Kantishna. Those who do are rewarded at this all-inclusive vacation resort with 42 rustic cedar cabins, some of which have private decks facing secluded Moose Creek. (All come equipped with private indoor bathrooms and heaters, welcome treats in these parts). Activities range from morning yoga classes and gold panning to guided hikes and mountain biking excursions. After an invigorating day outdoors, guests can pamper themselves in the new spa, which offers treatments like Swedish massage with hot stone therapy.

Everyone who visits Santa Fe walks along the famed Canyon Road. Originating as an old footpath that once accessed water, it now primarily showcases an expansive range of shops and galleries with Native American art and landscape paintings. A stroll is not complete without a stop at one of the award-winning restaurants, a la Geronimo and the Compound.

Pass through the iconic arched doorway at College Green and enter the elegant quads, handsome architecture and verdant lawns of Trinity College, one of Ireland‘s most prestigious universities. Among its many attributes is the atmospheric 18th-century Old Library, whose most precious tome is the 1,200-year-old Book of Kells, a priceless illuminated manuscript. Also worth a visit are the college’s Douglas Hyde Gallery, devoted to contemporary art, and the thought-provoking Science Gallery.

Cap your trip to Machu Picchu with a pisco sour on the Orient-Express train ride back to Cuzco. After boarding this luxury train for dinner and the return journey, everyone meets in the bar car for a drink. Live music, the rocking of the train, and the excitement from just experiencing Machu Picchu is a buzz to remember. Soon all the passengers are dancing as they travel through the steep mountainsides under the stars. —Lauren Maggard This appeared in the August/September 2013 issue. Image courtesy of Orient-Express

When President John F. Kennedy was shot in Dallas in November 1963, the world was introduced to the Texas School Book Depository building, which became the primary crime scene for the assassination. It was from a sixth-floor window in this brick warehouse that the shots are said to have rung out toward the Grassy Knoll and the motorcade along Dealey Plaza—and it’s that same floor that now houses this excellent museum dedicated to the event and its aftermath. The engaging permanent exhibits focus on everything from the political climate of the era and the actual assassination to the immediate chaos, the investigations, and even the conspiracy theories; you’ll also have the chance to watch and analyze the Zapruder film, and stand at the famous window itself. Rotating temporary installations may showcase topics like artwork inspired by the event, while a library and reading room offer opportunities for a deeper dive.

Active from the 13th to 15th centuries and considered an influence on the pre-Renaissance movement, the Sienese School of painting is identifiable by its themes—always religious, and usually with a focus on Biblical miracles—and its signature style, a dreamy mix of Roman, Gothic, and Byzantine influences that often feature dazzling gold backgrounds. Opened in 1932, this museum boasts one of the world’s largest collections of Sienese School works, as well as a number of Renaissance and late-medieval pieces from Italian artists. Wander through the impressive building—a combination of two 14th- and 15th-century noblemen’s palazzi—to find works like Duccio’s Madonna and Child, Michelino da Besozzo’s Mystical Marriage of Saint Catherine (celebrating the “calling” of Siena’s native daughter), and Bartolo di Fredi’s expansive Adoration of the Magi. Paired with a visit to Florence’s Uffizi, coming here offers insight into the differences—and longtime rivalry—between the two cities.

A colorful working-class neighborhood near downtown that had fallen on hard times, Woodstock has been revitalized with a mix of galleries, artists’ studios, boutiques, and restaurants. Much of the area’s original vibe remains, however, thanks to the long rows of colonnaded shops that edge Albert and Victoria roads. Among the nearby storefronts that are open throughout the week are Espresso Lab Microroasters and Luke Dale-Roberts’s award-winning restaurant, the Test Kitchen. Continuing down Albert Road, you’ll find spots like the Woodstock Co-op and the very trendy Woodstock Exchange, with a great array of places to eat and stores selling local goods. At the end of Albert Road, there’s a concentration of galleries, including the Stevenson, Goodman, and SMAC. On Saturdays, Woodstock draws crowds to the Neighbourgoods Market, a prepared foods extravaganza in the Old Biscuit Mill.

Jimmy’s Corner is long and narrow, as if some great prophet looked at a hallway and said, I see a dimly lit saloon here, complete with an extended bar and walls plastered with photos of boxers. Opened in 1971 by erstwhile pugilist James Lee Glenn, Jimmy’s sits midblock on West 44th Street, between Sixth Avenue and Broadway, in Midtown Manhattan. Which is what makes this no-frills bar unique. It’s a classic American dive, and the only one around, a relic from when the Times Square area was more depravity than Disney. Bartenders, who can spot a near-empty glass with the eyes of a hawk, are friendly but gruff. Case in point: As a 50-something woman with spiky bleached blonde hair mixed me another whiskey soda, I nodded to the boxer-bedecked wall behind the bar and said to my friend, “They don’t really like boxing much here, do they?” The bartender looked down the bar, pointed her finger at me, and bellowed with a thick Russian accent, “He make feeble attempt at joke!” She might have been right. If you go to this watering hole, make sure you’re thirsty (drinks are cheap) and your jokes are not so feeble. This appeared in the August/September 2013 issue. Image courtesy of Shanna Ravindra