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It always feels like a different world anywhere in the beautiful Point Reyes National Seashore area, and an evening at the hidden Nick’s Cove in Marshall, will have you in love with Tomales Bay. The property was recently overhauled by a group of silent investors that purchased the cottages and the restaurant and they’ve made some phenomenal improvements. Austin Perkins is the new head chef and the genius behind the BBQ oysters. After you’ve been checked in and escorted to your cottage, a delivery of complimentary oysters arrive at your doorstep. I kept hoping the staff at reception would change so that I could check in again. The rooms are cozy and spacious and the fireplace will always be a hit on the foggy and cool evenings. Be sure to either have dinner in the restaurant/bar, or ask for take out and have the meal delivered at the end of the pier, in the famous Boathouse. I’d also recommend making arrangements to start the next morning off right, with a paddle in Tomales Bay in a kayak. Local outfitter Blue Waters Kayaking will literally meet you on the deck of your cottage (if you’re lucky enough to secure one of the rooms on the water) and show you the magic of the area, the true way it needs to be seen. You’ll need to save up (and reserve far in advance) for a room at Nick’s Cove, but the experience is worth the pretty penny.

Though the name translates as “hunting and fishing club” and clubby decor (inherited from the previous restaurant) prevails, Le Club was never, in fact, a private club. The menu also pays a nod to the restaurant’s name with its local fish and game dishes that are served in the dark, intimate, somewhat stuffy rooms. (The same group has three more casual options if that sounds more appealing: Le Serpent, the buzzy Le Filet, and the family’s Italian cousin, Il Miglio.) In the winter, Le Club is open for dinner only, while in the summer a terrace provides the perfect setting for a long, leisurely lunch of chef Claude Pelletier’s sophisticated take on Québecois cuisine.

Located in the historic neighborhood of Sarona, a 19th-century German Templars settlement, Tel Aviv’s Sarona Market is a gourmet center. Inspired by food markets around the world, such as London’s Borough Market and New York’s Chelsea Market, the 94,000-square-foot space houses nearly 100 specialty food shops, stalls, and eateries. From cheese shops, knife makers, butchers, and local-produce stores to chocolate boutiques, bakeries, and ice cream parlors, there is something for everyone at Sarona. Visitors can walk around and learn about Templars history, or join one of the daily tours. In the summer, locals and tourists alike rent baskets from Picnic in the Little Italy section of the market, and eat lunch on the grass lawns.

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.

Inspired by a former Ford car dealership that once sat on the site in upscale Mission Hills, Fort Oak’s interior mixes old and new; hexagonal tiles and brass accents give the space a vintage feel, while a black oak communal table and plank flooring bring a modern industrial vibe. Executive Chef Brad Wise excels at wood-fired cuisine—the exhibition kitchen has a 7,000-pound grill and range where he fires up 45-day dry-aged ribeye and Australian wagyu beef—but what really sets Fort Oak apart is a raw bar serving seafood towers and buttery hamachi poke. For a decadent night out, slide into Fort Oak’s chef’s counter for a six-course tasting menu cooked by Wise (offered Wednesday and Thursday nights every other week; reserve ahead).

The resort town of Mondello, just a short drive from Palermo, is a popular escape for visitors and Sicilians alike. Cerulean waters lap a beach of soft white sand. Visitors staying in nearby villas spend much of their time relaxing on the beach, with occasional breaks for arancini and panelle bought from street vendors. For a serious meal, stroll down the pier to the Charleston, a landmark restaurant and bar in an Art Nouveau building over the water.

When it comes to Kindred, you can forget your preconceived notions of vegan restaurants. The South Park spot features killer cocktails, filling food, and an edgy design, complete with a coffered ceiling, a white-marble bar, and a demon-wolf-head sculpture mounted on the wall. Pair the refreshing Place of Certainty (vodka, elderflower, Aperol, lemon, Thai basil, winter melon bitters, and cucumber) with Kindred’s take on the charcuterie board (smoked golden beets, kale pesto, and red-chili-and-orange-fennel seitan), or order something more substantial, like the beet risotto or the seared cauliflower steak with squash puree and steak sauce. The restaurant also offers an excellent weekend brunch with everything from cinnamon rolls and banana bread French toast to pancakes with bourbon butterscotch.

This urban luxury resort in Shanghai has a polished, cool contemporary feel, mixing Eastern and Western sensibilities. Interiors lean toward dark tones and clean lines, with clever landscaping providing a sense of escape. Organic materials include liberal use of wood, stone, and marble. Large windows bring in natural light, and decor mixes contemporary with touches of traditional Chinese. Environmentally sensitive practices take multiple guises: Solar panels gather energy for hotel operation. The heatproof facade limits the need for air-conditioning. And sunshades in each room open and close automatically to let in or keep out the sun’s light and heat. Rooms also have dragon-scaled screens and cast bronze basins. Club rooms come with the perks of 24-hour check-in/check-out and butlers.

The Palazzo Chiaramonte-Steri, also called Steri Castle, was built in 1307 by Sicily’s powerful Chiaramonte family. Manfredi Chiaramonte later added the elaborate Hall of the Barons, whose wooden ceiling is blanketed with murals. Starting in 1601, the castle was a base for the Spanish Inquisition for 180 years. A tour of the prison cells offers a look at haunting graffiti carved into the walls by those wrongly imprisoned and tortured here.

This sprawling 19th-century former gasworks complex west of the Canal Ring was a polluted site for decades after its closing in the mid-1960s. It was cleaned up and reopened in 2003 as a park, and its architecturally significant red-brick buildings were turned into cultural venues, restaurants, bars, nightclubs, and shops. The Gashouder, a massive circular structure measuring more than 27,000 square feet, hosts mainly techno parties, while the nearby North Sea Jazz Club is an intimate space for live jazz performances. You’ll also find TonTon Club, a restaurant and arcade with video games, air hockey, and table tennis; Pacific Parc, a café with live rock music and DJs; and a three-screen art-house cinema.

Wonderful catamarans that you can rent right off the beach.

The town of Stromboli, the main settlement on the island, sits at the foot of the volcano overlooking Strombolicchio. Its gleaming white buildings surround the dome of a small church, Chiesa di San Vincenzo. The town is fronted by a stretch of volcanic beach where local fishermen haul out their boats on the coarse black sand.

When the sun sets, Piazza Santo Spirito wakes up and the large square fills with college students and young professionals. Volume is where they gather for strong cocktails and live music. Located in the former workshop of Alfonso Bini, a woodworker who specialized in carved hat forms and later more-creative pieces, the space retains the warm vibe of the local craft studios. Small tables and chairs are set up alongside shelves crowded with books, tools, and art. Seating outside affords a view of the after-dark action on the piazza as well as the striking Santo Spirito church.

At the tip of the Baja Peninsula, where the turbulence of the Pacific Ocean meets the calms of the Sea of Cortez, lies Cabo’s crown jewel, Land’s End. Here, the iconic “El Arco” rock formation frames the confluence of waters and shelters a colony of sea lions. This distinctive scene has turned up on countless postcards and Instagram feeds—and rightfully so. Get up close by hiring a panga, kayak, or stand-up paddleboard. Soak in the serenity of the dramatic landscape and consider that if you continued due south, your next landfall would be Antarctica.

Latin America’s largest jewelry market, this four-level spot in the heart of Guadalajara features more than 700 jewelry stores, labs, and repair shops. Precious and semiprecious stones sparkle alongside gold, silver, costume jewelry, and watches, making it nearly impossible to leave with just one thing.