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The moment the snow melts, young Torontonians begin their annual spring migration to Trinity Bellwoods Park. The hippest park in town, Bellwoods stretches from the shopper’s paradise of Queen West up to central Dundas Street. On a summer’s day, sun-and-fun seekers spread out on beach blankets to watch the action: at the dog run, on the tennis courts, in the kiddie pool, and even closer, on the adjacent blankets. After dark, head to nearby Bellwoods Brewery for a pint.

Within the Aysén Region, the Chonos Archipelago, named for an extinct people, is laced with innumerable islands around which blue whales thrive. Both the Darwin and Moraleda channels traverse the archipelago, which extends down to the 17,420-square-kilometer (6,726-square-mile) Laguna San Rafael National Park in the Northern Patagonian Ice Field. The San Rafael Glacier and a 16-kilometer-long (10-mile-long) fjord are found within the park that is part of a UNESCO Biosphere Reserve.

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.

This hotel is on our list of The 10 Best Hotels in Canada.

First opened for business in 1912, the iconic Ritz-Carlton Montreal—known as “the grande dame of Sherbrooke Street"—began a $200 million facelift in 2008, opening its doors again in 2012. Quebec’s most luxurious and historic hotel could tell endless celebrity secrets but is, of course, far too discreet to utter a word. It’s no secret, though, that Elizabeth Taylor married Richard Burton here, that the Rolling Stones rented the entire sixth floor in 1972, and that a who’s who of world leaders, movie stars, and royalty are still regular guests. Situated in the downtown culture and shopping hub that is the Golden Square Mile, the hotel oozes money-is-no-object luxury from every pore: from the ornate duck pond and immaculately manicured garden and terrace to the 100-year-old chandeliers, the sweeping staircases, and the belle époque golden glow of the lobby and palm court. Rooms have a white-and-gray minimalist palette with splashes of signature purple. Antiques and original features blend with ultra high-tech design such as Japanese Toto toilets in all bathrooms, heated floors, and motion-sensor lighting.

Much of the buzz around Brooklyn in recent years has focused on Williamsburg and, to a lesser degree, the nearby Bushwick and Greenpoint districts. Downtown Brooklyn and its neighbor, Fort Greene, have been enjoying a renaissance too, however. One welcome addition to the scene in that part of the borough is the Dekalb Market Hall, which opened in the summer of 2017. It’s sort of a small, and year-round, version of the popular Smorgasburg, offering an opportunity to sample dishes from some 40 different vendors. In the basement of the City Point shopping center on Fulton Street, many of New York’s venerable and upcoming restaurants are represented. Katz’s Deli, the Arepa Lady, and Dekalb Taco will satisfy your longing for something savory, while Ample Hills ice cream and Steve’s Key Lime Pies cater to your sweet tooth. New York’s first Alamo Drafthouse Cinema is also here if you want to have a cocktail and see a movie before or after your meal.

Huichol beaded masks and animal figurines, yarn paintings, ceramics, and bright oil and acrylic paintings are the specialties at this art gallery in San José del Cabo. Practical ready-to-take-home items include bowls and other kitchen items, jewelry, and vases.

Much of Lisbon’s appeal lies in its sheer beauty. From the rust-toned rooftops across the whitewashed Alfama district to the Pombaline architecture of Baixa, the city is very easy on the eyes. For the very best views, head skyward to Park Bar, located on the rooftop of a Bairro Alto parking garage. There, you’ll find a just-trendy-enough mix of scenester residents and tourists, sipping on white-port-and-tonics while enjoying expansive vistas from the Tagus River to the bell towers of Santa Catarina Church.

“What better way to understand yoga than to travel to its birthplace?” says Katie Christ. Two years ago, the food stylist put her life in San Francisco on hold to spend two months studying at the Ramamani Iyengar Memorial Yoga Institute (RIMYI) in Pune, India. “It was the biggest luxury I have ever allowed myself.” Katie had been practicing Iyengar yoga, a style of hatha yoga that focuses on alignment and uses props like blocks and belts, for more than 10 years when she decided she wanted to study in India.

She applied to RIMYI, where the venerable B.K.S. Iyengar (above), the founder of Iyengar yoga, occasionally teaches with his son and daughter. “It’s not for the faint of heart,” says Katie. “There’s no music. No incense.” RIMYI requires each applicant to have eight years of Iyengar experience plus a letter of recommendation from his or her yoga teacher. Acceptance can take up to two years. The year before she attended, Katie traveled to Pune for two weeks to experience life in the city.

That first visit happened to coincide with B.K.S. Iyengar’s 90th birthday. “I had no Indian garb appropriate for the festivities, so I went shopping, and in one afternoon I saw so much. A woman making a rangoli, a traditional folk art design, let me try to draw one with colored powder on the street. At the market I saw a man whose sole job was to peel garlic bulbs. I tasted the most amazing chai, made by a chai wallah who used pliers to crush fresh ginger into a pot of milk with tea leaves and ground spices. I knew I wanted to stay. [On my second trip] these experiences would become part of my everyday routine.”

The institute doesn’t provide housing, so Katie used her first visit to find a flat to rent for her two-month stay. “I had the perfect commute: a 10-minute walk through a public garden where I would watch teens flirting on benches and women in saris and sneakers taking their morning power walks.” Classes were held six days a week: two-hour sessions led by a member of the Iyengar family and three hours of open practice each day, and an hour of pranayama (controlled breathing) once a week. “In open practice, I experienced incredible generosity from students who were advanced teachers,” says Katie. “If someone recognized that I was struggling, they would come over to help me achieve better alignment. Several times Geeta Iyengar [the daughter of B.K.S. Iyengar] called out to give me specific instruction.

I felt incredibly fortunate, considering there were up to 120 students in a class.” When she wasn’t in class, Katie and her Australian neighbors, all senior Iyengar teachers attending the institute, would hit the markets and seek out the best chai, Indian sweets, and chappals (sandals). On Sundays they took trips to sights like the ancient sculptures and paintings in the Ellora and Ajanta caves. Katie felt her body becoming stronger and her head becoming clearer with each passing day. “The goal of yoga is to calm the chatter of the mind. When I arrived I had tons of chatter,” she says. “After practicing so intensely every day for two months, the chatter became a murmur.”

From $450 for a one-month program, not including meals and accommodations. 91/(0) 20-2565-6134, bksiyengar.com. This story appeared in the January/February 2012 issue.

Pastry chef Kelly Fields does complicated things with simple ingredients at her modern bakery and eatery. It’s part of the restaurant group overseen by local star chef John Besh, so it’s no surprise that it’s drawn nods from the James Beard Foundation, among others, for its delectable biscuits, corn bread, and more-involved dishes like crawfish and grits. Located in the sleek new district of mid-rise condos and apartments a couple blocks north of Lafayette Square, Willa Jean makes a great spot for a lazy breakfast or brunch—reservations are all but essential on weekends. It’s local knowledge that it’s also open for dinner and that the quality at that time of day remains high, with varied delicious dishes like braised lamb pasta and beer-can chicken (plus, it’s easier to get in).

Cross Punda’s Queen Wilhelmina Bridge, and bam! You’re in Scharloo, Willemstad’s youngest colonial district. Known for baroque mansions once inhabited by the island’s wealthiest merchants, this historical neighborhood is also a hipster haven. Thanks to Street Art Skálo, a group of up-and-coming local artists, you can admire life-size murals on Bitterstraat and Parke Leyba from Curaçao masters like Francis Sling and Garrick Marchena. Afterwards, grab coffee on Beyglz’s colonial terrace and shop for 100-percent-handmade bath and body products at Integra Natural.

Although the restaurant claims it’s “American” (the owner is from San Francisco), local Greeks are laying claim on this all-day hangout. Breakfasts and brunches—creamy Greek yogurt and pancakes—start the day, then around lunch, diners switch over to cheeseburgers and fries, Tandoori chicken, perfect Middle Eastern falafel, and even a couple of Thai dishes. The eclecticism magically works, as ingredients used are crazy-fresh and the atmosphere is low-key and friendly. The team of chefs is as international and colorful as the menu (and as the ceiling, too, which is decorated with multicolored umbrellas), and Mama Roux lies on a pedestrian-only street, which helps, too. As night falls, you may as well stay for dinner, and try the excellent beers on tap.

Clearly not designed by, or for, shrinking violets, Klapsons is as bold in its decor and colors as in its ambition to stand out among the buttoned-down business district hotels. The hotel’s moniker might sound futuristic but is based on names of the owner’s family. Furnishings by Zaha Hadid (the lobby’s Moraine sofa) and Marcel Wanders (polycarbonate stools) keep the interiors lively and au courant. The street-level lobby, visible through a facade of glass, is all bright furniture and curvilinear forms, with pops of white, orange, red, neon blue, and off-kilter lampshades. Reception sits in an elevated, stair-accessed pod of highly polished stainless steel that looks primed for blast-off. A wall of wire mesh in the lobby adds an industrial element to the otherwise retro-future montage. Rooms continue the provocative vein with punches of brightness—on a bed throw, a Plexiglas table, a plush carpet—and kooky showers, some of them glass-enclosed stalls in the middle of the living space, others open-cube-shaped with color-changing LED lights.

Cacao beans’ scientific name is theobrama cacao, which translates into “drink of the gods.” Casa Cortés in Old San Juan will truly please any god with its Cortés chocolate concoctions. This welcoming café fuses modern style of its seats and dishes with the antique charm of walls covered in Cortés chocolate molds and a short history of chocolate on a collage of artwork that exudes nostalgia. The menu features mouth-watering items such as a baguette filled with Brie, chocolate, and a hazelnut spread; a blood orange and passion fruit cheesecake topped with a chocolate mousse; and an Argentinian ice wine. I opted for the mallorca (a sweet bread dusted with powdered sugar) stuffed with Ibérico ham, Manchego, chocolate, and a guava spread, accompanied by a European hot chocolate that was to die for. My meal was perfect, but I’m sure everything I didn’t get to taste was just as amazing. That’s what you get when your chocolate comes straight from a nearby farm. While I waited for my food, I watched a video on chocolate production. There’s also a museum (unfortunately, I was unable to see it, but you can bet I’ll be back there next time I come home to my beautiful island) and some products for sale. Make sure to take a little piece of Casa Cortés with you for future indulgences—they advertise one chocolate tablet as being enough for two beverages.

Although the Smoking Goat is credited with pioneering a culinary renaissance in a once-sleepy corner of North Park, nothing else about chef Fred Piehl’s flagship restaurant screams “culinary vanguard”—and that’s precisely what devotees love about the place. Regulars come here for the reliably exquisite staples: French onion soup with what’s essentially an open-face grilled cheese sandwich afloat in rich veal broth; duck fat truffle fries with pecorino romano and mustard aioli; beef cheeks à la Bourguignonne with carrots, cioppolini onions, cherry tomatoes, mashed potatoes, and braising jus; and other creations that blend traditional French tastes with sustainable, organic San Diego–sourced ingredients. While dinner at this rustic, romantic spot is hardly the time to eat lightly, if you want to go vegetarian, opt for the indulgent raclette au gratin with fingerling potatoes, cornichons, and toast, along with a salad of poached and raw pears with mixed greens, pistachio pesto, and champagne vinaigrette. And as befits the restaurant’s caprine theme, the goat cheese cheesecake with poached peach and whipped cream is a favorite dessert.

A recent addition to the Puerto Rican capital’s culinary scene are food hall–style spots where diners can choose among multiple kiosks, or stalls, each featuring a distinct kind of cuisine. Lote 23 is one such spot, located in the working-class neighborhood of Santurce. More than a dozen food entrepreneurs have fare on offer here, from pizza and tacos to bao and burgers. If you just need something to cool yourself off in the tropical heat, there are popsicles and cocktails, too. The alfresco eating area has plenty of picnic tables where you can sit and enjoy whatever you’ve ordered.