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A modest entryway opens onto a bright, colonial Mexico fantasia, complete with blue tiles, crisp white linen, colorful pottery, and would-be-viceregal artworks. Since 1912, Café de Tacuba has opened early and stayed up late to serve classic Mexican fare like enchiladas and chalupitas, excellent tamales, hearty breakfasts, a wide variety of soups, and even more-ambitious entrees, attracting an amenable congress of families, foreigners, work groups, and confidence-exchanging senoras. Order the café con leche for a smart jolt of showmanship; Spanish troubadours serenade the proceedings most nights and weekends. Maybe it’s your grandmother’s Mexico, but the old girl knew a thing or two.

A few years back, when Lima’s Central Restaurante was closed because of zoning issues, Peru‘s celebrity chef, Gastón Acurio, was one of many who petitioned for it to be reopened. I knew that meant the young chef at Central, Virgilio Martinez, must be doing something truly special. Virgilio’s restaurant is located in Lima’s hip Barranco neighborhood. I stopped in solo one afternoon for lunch and was dazzled by the dishes his servers put in front of me: charred purple corn with scented octopus, lentils, yuzu, and bok choy; “mask of the suckling pig” (or pig face) with tart green apple, baby tomatoes, and galangal; and suckling goat with chickpeas, goat cheese, and lemon verbena. Each course was plated like a work of art and was a beautiful riddle on the palette. My enthusiasm for my food earned me a tour of the open kitchen and the rooftop garden, where servers pluck flowers or clip herbs for dishes like the citrus gelée with edible flowers (pictured above). Chef also gave me a tour of his incredible chocolate cellar, where he shows off his favorite chocolate bars from around the world.

Tempt fate at the Monkey Paw’s Book-O-Matic machine, where for the price of a toonie you’ll be delivered an archaic tome in the vein of Elementary Arabic, Vol. 3. I’ll let you know how my studying gets on. The Monkey’s Paw is an eclectic vintage bookstore on Dundas with a collection of unique books, vintage maps, and bugs preserved in Lucite.

Manhattan can, famously, feel like endless rows of apartment blocks and office towers for most of its length. At least above 14th Street, a regular grid of streets and avenues, bisected only by Broadway, has transformed the city into a dream for real estate developers. The green spaces interrupting the pattern—Union Square, Gramercy Park, Madison Square Park—are few and far between, with one enormous exception: Central Park. Running from 59th Street to 110th Street, and between Central Park West (Eighth Avenue) and Fifth Avenue, it is one of the world’s largest urban parks, measuring some 843 acres. It is the masterpiece of the 19th-century landscape architect Frederick Law Olmsted working in collaboration with Calvert Vaux. Inside its borders are stately allées and naturalistic scenes, ice-skating rinks (in the winter), an enormous reservoir, and a faux castle. The park is hugely popular, and so to call it an escape from the bustle of the city is often not accurate, especially on mild summer days and the first warm ones in the spring when thousands of residents head to its playing fields, bike and run along the road that loops the park, and enjoy picnics on the Sheep Meadow or one of its other lawns.

The wonderful thing about the medina in Marrakech is the way in which it endlessly reinvents itself. Barely a week goes by without some hip, new trailblazer shimmying onto the scene and giving you just one more reason to love the place. When La Famille opened a couple of summers ago, it was like one of Ibiza’s secluded countryside restaurants had dropped in from across the Med. The leafy garden, driftwood furniture, herb- and flower-infused waters (no alcohol here, dears), organic salads served in Kilner jars, vegetarian quiches, and healthy cakes attract the city’s most beautiful groovers and shakers, who waft about in designer kaftans plotting their latest interior design projects for their riads. Drop in for an hour, but like all the best places, don’t be surprised to find you’re here for at least three.

Street-food markets are all the rage the world over, and in Vienna you have the chance to visit one that’s been around for many centuries. Built literally over the channeled Vienna River, just beyond the Ringstrasse, the Naschmarkt is devoted to what its name happens to sound like in English: noshing. Whether you order a spicy wurst, browse the fish and cheese stalls, or purchase local products like pumpkin-seed oil and apple vinegar, the Naschmarkt is one of the city’s most enjoyable simple pleasures. In recent years, some gastronomic and ethnic food stalls have expanded into full restaurants. For decades, 400 dealers have set up their Saturday flea market next door, where shoppers hunt for bargains among books, record albums and CDs, and antiques.

Inishmaan is one of the Aran Islands of the west coast of Ireland—one of the most unspoiled spots in the country—and Inis Meáin restaurant uses the good things that come from the pure earth and sea around it. The garden and greenhouse grows salads, herbs, and vegetables, while the fish is wild caught from the Atlantic, and meat is homestead reared. The restaurant has large windows overlooking the ocean and island and seats just 16 guests for a four-course dinner. The menu changes nightly, based on what’s available and in season, and each dish prepared by chef and native son Ruairí de Blacam has just two elements, a unique dining experience indeed. Open from April to the end of September.

If there’s one thing synonymous with Korean cuisine, it’s barbecue, known as bulgogi. In Seoul, dining at a barbecue restaurant is a communal affair. Friends gather around a table and order generous portions of marinated beef or pork, which servers then grill right in front of them. For an elevated experience, visit one of Maple Tree House’s four locations. Each outpost boasts a sleek, contemporary atmosphere and uses only quality cuts of meat. The barbecue-averse can enjoy traditional dishes like noodles, stews, and bibimbap, while first-timers will be relieved to find a friendly bilingual staff who can walk them through the process.

The sight of the little yellow streetcar rumbling across the top of the Lapa aqueduct’s arches, making its way uphill to the neighborhood known as Santa Teresa, is a city classic. An accident had it shut down for five years, and the new bondinho may lack some of its former authenticity (for one thing, there used to be more locals aboard); yet the tropicalized Lisbon flavor of the neighborhood’s streets is still in place. Visitors can access points of interest such as the Parque das Ruínas aboard the trolley, then wander the district’s streets on foot till they reach the famed Selarón stairs that go back down to Lapa.

Chef Pedro de Artagão went from fresh-faced promoter to celebrity chef at Irajá, where instead of trying to take things more haute, he gathered traditional—maybe even disdained—Brazilian ingredients and transformed them into something spectacular. The restaurant’s mansion setting requires guests to squeeze past the kitchen to the dining room, on a high-ceilinged loggia, framed by a vertical garden. Locals marvel at what Artagão does with once-lowly cassava, now stylishly presented as high-toned aipim (whole fried), farofa (fried meal), mash, or tapioca. Regulars and out-of-towners alike enjoy sampling ingredients from the Amazon, such as tucupi (manioc juice), jambu (a Brazilian guava), and tacacá (a spicy seafood, pepper, and jambu stew).

Mexico City has no dearth of luxurious boutique hotels, but Las Alcobas is a special option. Designed by famed firm Yabu Pushelberg, the hotel is full of gorgeous details, from hand-stitched leather wall coverings to a spiral staircase that surges up from the lobby. Upon arrival, guests enjoy a welcome drink as a bellman leads them to their room; explains the technology that controls the light, sound and temperature; and offers them a selection of handmade soaps. Once settled in, they can lounge in plush robes on their goose-down comforters while sampling snacks from the minibar. For a heartier meal, Las Alcobas offers two excellent restaurants. Just outside the hotel’s front door, there’s also Presidente Masaryk, Polanco’s main avenue full of restaurants and high-end boutiques.

Located just two miles north of Port Elizabeth, on an 18th-century sugar plantation and working sea salt farm that overlooks Spring Bay, Firefly Bequia has all the sophistication of its sister accommodations on tony Mustique. Scattered along the hillside to maximize ocean views, the four suites and one two-bedroom cottage are outfitted with king-size four-poster beds, indoor-outdoor showers, and rattan ceiling fans that recall the island’s colonial past. Though it’s a five-minute walk to the beach, you’ll spot the remnants of the plantation’s original sugar mill, a croquet lawn and swimming pool, and the hotel’s resident goats along the way. Upon your return, a cocktail in the stone bar, where green bananas hang like chandeliers, is just the thing to ease you into a star-filled night.

The Slow Food people could learn a thing or two from The Saltry when it comes to really stretching out the pacing of a meal: This restaurant sits a beautiful one-hour ride away on the Danny J ferry (one of the cutest ferries ever), across Kachemak Bay from Homer, Alaska. (Seriously, this meal is not for the seasick prone.) Once the boat arrives in tiny Halibut Cove, you get three hours to dine, explore, and visit the two art galleries in town. (OK, town is a strong word. Halibut Cove is a tiny pip of a place.) For such an out-of-the-way spot, The Saltry serves up a stunningly high-end meal. The seafood-heavy menu depends on mostly local ingredients. (Do not, unless you’re allergic, skip out on the oysters.)

A short drive from Amman, the town of Madaba is home to one of Jordan’s largest Christian communities and several impressive churches. Of these, the Greek Orthodox St. George’s Church is the most interesting. The church wasn’t built until the end of the 19th century, but during construction workers uncovered one of the most important surviving artistic relics of the Byzantine era: the Madaba Mosaic Map. Created by artisans in the 6th century, the mosaic was once an intricate map of Holy Land sites, covering modern-day Jordan, Israel, the Palestinian Territories, and Egypt’s Sinai. Only a quarter of the original work survives today, but even this fragment, which sits in the floor of the church, shows astounding detail. Look closely and you’ll see fish swimming in the Jordan River, the walls and gates of Jerusalem, Mount Sinai, and even the Nile Delta. There’s also an excellent exhibition next to the church to help you get the most out of your viewing.

At 6,200 feet, Mont Ventoux—also known as the “Beast of Provence”—is the highest mountain in the Vaucluse region, and a popular part of the Tour de France cycling race. About half a mile from the summit stands a memorial to British cyclist Tom Simpson, who died during the 1967 Tour de France at just 29 years old. It serves as a sort of reminder to those tackling the grueling, 15.5-mile ascent, which, at some points, features a 10 percent gradient. At the top, winds can howl at up to 150 miles an hour, but the panoramic view stretches all the way from the Alps to the Mediterranean Sea. Despite being nicknamed the Bald Eagle, Mont Ventoux is a designated UNESCO Biosphere Reserve, with more than 1,000 species of flora and fauna. Take a drive to the top, then reward yourself with a visit to the Boyer nougat factory in nearby Sault, or a stop at the Vallon des Lavandes distillery on the Lavender Route.