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You’ll feel like royalty from the moment you touch down at the 19th-century Palais Sheherazade, a traditional Moroccan palace with zellige tiling, sculpted plaster, and stained glass. A massive courtyard patio lies at the hotel’s heart, with a pool bordered by 100-year-old palm trees, Andalusian-style greenery, and elegant black-and-white seating from the adjacent restaurant, where you can sip mint tea from etched-glass cups as the scent of jasmine wafts through the air. The 24 chandeliered suites are regal in size and decor, bedecked in sumptuous textiles, handpainted cedarwood ceilings, and gleaming copper sink basins. But the true star here is the Anne Sémonin spa, a palace unto itself with an array of decadent rooms, an Aquatonic pool, and a traditional hammam.

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.

The great macaron debate may forever wage on, but from the first time I tucked into a small box of Pierre Hermé’s diminutive cookies, perfectly crisp on the outside and melt-in-your-mouth soft on the inside, I knew I’d remain loyal to his interpretation. Perhaps best known for his unique flavors—foie gras and chocolate, lemon and fennel, vanilla and basil, among many others—it’s his Ispahan croissant, with rose almond paste and crushed raspberry flakes, that really keeps me going back.

In the Orange Walk district, in Northern Belize, lies one of the largest Maya ruins in the country: Lamanai. It is accessible by road but I arrived after a one-hour boat ride up the New River. The name “Lamanai” is roughly translated as “Submerged Crocodile.” Apparently, there was once a thriving population. The ruins may date back to 700 B.C. and estimates put the number of structures, which are part of the ruins, at around 700 buildings; however, less than 5% has actually been excavated. Thick jungle, filled with howler monkeys, birds and jaguars, conceal the remaining structures. The walk through the jungle from the landing dock is certainly evocative. Tall palm trees form a dense ceiling and thick underbrush conceals everything around the path, still littered with pottery shards and artifacts because excavation is still ongoing. The Mask Temple has the most well preserved details but the view from the top of N10-43 (or High Temple) is thrilling. I don’t recommend it for those who are afraid of heights because the climb down is steep and challenging. If you can make it, it’s worth every moment of struggle. I am no expert judge, but I would revisit Lamanai again in a heartbeat; of all the Maya historical places I have been, it was the most interesting and complete in terms of narrative and historical detail. A museum toward the entrance to the complex could easily take an entire afternoon to get through because of the volume of information it houses.

Cozy Dolina serves a lovely breakfast spread with an Eastern European bent. Try the nutty granola atop Greek yogurt with fruit, ricotta pancakes, and a hearty breakfast burrito with organic eggs, hash browns, and asadero cheese (topped, in good New Mexican fashion, with red or green chile). There’s also robust espresso and coffee, local bone broth, and baked grab-and-go sweets like chocolate croissants, banana pie with a flaky, buttery crust, and Slovakian-style vanilla cream puffs.

Husband-wife duo Yves and Claudine Camdeborde got their start as industry pioneers with their restaurant La Régalade, the city’s first “neo-bistro” (a trend marked by high-quality cooking at an accessible price point), which they ran for 12 years. Since 2005, their acclaim has come from their Relais Saint-Germain hotel-restaurant combo located in the beating heart of Saint-Germain. The hotel blends quaint Parisian style with a just-like-home atmosphere.

The design goal was to preserve the 17th-century soul of the building, keeping its original, exposed beams and stones and blending antique furnishings and old parquet floors with avant-garde decorative elements and rococo textiles hand-picked by Mme. Camdeborde. The result is an urban inn that guests would want to return to year after year. Each of the 22 rooms bears the name of a celebrated writer inspired by Paris—from Madame de Sévigné to Marcel Proust—and a unique aesthetic theme (Asian, African, Louis III) in a nod to the neighborhood’s literary past. What unites them is an intimate vibe that instantly makes guests feel at home.

This semi-outdoor market on Juta Street in Joburg’s Braamfontein neighbourhood is fun fun fun. Eat oysters from Namibia, drink craft beer from South Africa, and devour paella, gelato, cheeses, chocolate...a food lover’s paradise! Open on Saturdays.

The Chez Panisse of Santa Fe has been helmed by the same Berkeley-bred chef-owner since the 1970s. While the restaurant isn’t for New Mexican food purists, the local dishes are solid and range from classic renditions to enchiladas gussied up with griddled organic tofu, spinach, and zucchini.

Just when it seemed like the Riviera Maya Riviera had become nothing but a sea of all-inclusive beach resorts, you stumble upon the quaint little Mexican village of Puerto Morelos. There are almost no huge developments, no shopping outlets, and no chain restaurants. The place is absolutely magical and is like traveling back in time. There is a small town square or plaza lined with palm trees, small cafes, and local boutiques. You can always find a good margarita to sip on at the super hip little bars scattered around the small town. If you find yourself on the Yucatan peninsula don’t miss this opportunity to travel back in time 50 yrs and experience the “old” Mexico.

When the swell is up and the waves are high, Sunset Beach is Surf City, UAE. Count on left-breaking waves at the Jebel Ali end and right-breaking waves at the northern tip of the beach. In between, expect a busy beach full of tourists, locals, and expats soaking up the sun. Palace Beach offers easy access to the waterways of the Palm Jumeirah (perfect for kayakers and stand-up paddleboarders), a glimpse of the great sail of a building that is the Burj Al Arab in the distance, sugary white sand between the toes, and crystalline water all the way to the horizon. If you forgot your water-sports equipment at home, Club Joumana at the sprawling JA Jebel Ali Beach Resort rents it all—from Zapcat inflatable racing boats to paddleboards.

In the heart of Old Québec’s Upper Town, Hotel Manoir Victoria blends 19th-century grace with an updated urban-chic vibe. A recently completed $8 million makeover of the 1830 property’s accommodations added a calming palette of ebony, gray, and cream and amenities like electric fireplaces and living areas, as well as iPhone chargers, rain showers, and pod coffee makers. Guests have no shortage of diverting destinations to choose from, including a spa, indoor saltwater pool, and fitness center. The hotel’s gourmet restaurant, however, usually beats out the competition, earning high praise for its thoughtful Nordic-inspired Québecois cuisine using seasonal, locally sourced, and foraged ingredients in dishes such as carpaccio of elderberry-marinated arctic char with cattail heart and milkweed pod.

The Gold Coast is a legendary surfing destination, and veteran surfers make pilgrimages from all over the world to catch these waves. Playa Grande is the granddaddy of all Costa Rican surfing beaches, and it doubles as a nesting ground for leatherback sea turtles. Other popular surf spots in the area are Playas Avellanas & Negra (where the 1994 surf classic The Endless Summer II was filmed), and Tamarindo. If you’re a beginner or novice and need lessons, Point Break Surf is a great option.

This three-and-a-half hour ride up the nation’s highest and steepest cog railway, allows a 45-minute break on the summit to take pictures from 14,115 feet above sea level. It’s quite an experience, with various levels of ticket prices and car types. If you’d rather attempt the burly hike to the summit, the Barr Trail is about 12.9 miles each way—with a 7,800 foot elevation gain.

One of the best day-hikes from Tucson is just north of town, on the ‘back side’ of the Santa Catalina Mountains: Romero Canyon. Drive up to Catalina State Park for the trailhead, and you’ll begin trekking through mesquite woods and towering saguaros before beginning to climb the rocky foothills into this mountain range. Then you’ll scramble down into the canyon itself, with a flowing stream at its heart. Most years, even in the early summer dry season, you can still find pools to cool off in--it’s a popular trail for Tucsonans. (Just get an early--dawn--start.) Continue past the pools and you can hike all the way up to Romero Pass, in the heart of the Pusch Ridge Wiliderness, where naturalists are trying to re-introduce a herd of mountain bighorn sheep. Late fall through early spring are perfect here... “Desert oasis” might be a hackneyed phrase when describing places like this, but desert-dwellers don’t take them for granted. Fortunately, when you’re in southern Arizona, seek and ye shall find...

Somewhere between a hip designer’s loft and a rock star’s party pad, the Ace Hotel Downtown Los Angeles is located in the Spanish Gothic–style United Artists building built in 1927 for actor and producer Mary Pickford and her team of silver screen stars. The hotel was painstakingly designed to showcase both historic and contemporary artistry, from Noguchi lamps and Pendleton blankets in loftlike rooms to original art deco floors and hand-drawn portraits of famous Angelenos on the restaurant’s walls.