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Located in the town of Ocho Rios, Mammee Bay Beach is a sight for sore eyes—wide and spacious with powdery white sand and electric blue water. Even though half of this beach is private for guests of the gigantic RIU Resort, the other half is accessible to the public. Drive over to Bamboo Blu Restaurant (30 Beach Road), where you can park your car and enjoy the beach with a meal or some cocktails.

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.

Café Du Monde is always open; it’s the clientele that changes—from visiting families and local pensioners early in the morning, to couples in the evening, to Bourbon Street refugees looking for coffee and ballast in the night’s thinnest hours. This huge coffee stop is a rarity—a tourist trap that locals actually love (although they will rarely wait when lines are long). It’s been around for more than a century, and basically serves two items: beignets and café au lait. The beignets are similar to Spanish buñuelos, fried fritters of dough, and are one of those French traditions that’s survived here more durably than in France. While probably not on anyone’s diet list—they come piled with powdered sugar—they’re surprisingly light, and an order (which equals three beignets) disappears with unusual haste.

This restaurant feels like you stepped back in time - think Mexico in the 70s. The story goes - it all began in the VW van in Playa del Carmen. Tacombi used to sell tacos out of the van, and now he has a nice, cozy spot in Soho where the van is parked. It’s a garage with lights strung in the air. It just feels cool to be in. The design is great, but the food is even better. Virtually any tacos you order are wonderful. I also recommend the guacamole appetizer - yum! And don’t leave without ordering a drink.

No matter how many postcards you’ve seen of Rome’s iconic Colosseum, you just don’t get it until you pass beneath its crumbling arches. Built by Emperor Vespasian in 72 C.E., the huge amphitheater held 50,000 spectators and marked its opening with 100 days of brutal spectacles like gladiator combat and animal fights. The Colosseum was in use for four centuries, and now you can tour the ruins. Walk through the Hypogeum, an intricate series of tunnels and elevators originally used to transport animals, slaves, and gladiators, to the performance above, or take a moonlit tour to have one of the world’s most storied structures all to yourself.

Bird watchers won’t want to miss Cinquera Rainforest Park, home to El Salvador’s national bird, the turquoise-browed motmot, as well as a number of other avian species. In addition, this park—which was created to preserve what little vegetation was left in the region after civil war and deforstation—has trails to hike, waterfalls to spot, and history to learn: the small town of Cinquera is known for having been a stronghold of guerrilla resistance during the civil war. These days, you can get a tour of the park from a former guerrilla (many of whom are now park rangers or guides).

To get here, it’s about an hour from the capital city of San Salvador and best reached by car.

Baja California Sur’s capital deserves more than a day trip. The cosmopolitan city is home to some of the peninsula’s finest restaurants, and its beaches rival any in the world. Ensenada Grande, on Isla Partida, is part of the Espíritu Santo Archipelago and is, in a word, stunning. Golden sands give way to clear waters that are framed by volcanic formations (ask your guide to point out “La Máscara”). On the mainland, visit Balandra, a lovely white-sand beach whose waters shimmer a vibrant turquoise. It’s famous not only for its splendor but for the unusual mushroom-shaped rock known as El Hongo, as well. El Tecolote doesn’t quite have Balandra’s beauty, but it offers much more in the way of activities. Camp, grab a bite, and start here before heading on to an Espíritu Santo adventure.

Visitors often want to bring a souvenir from San Miguel back to the kids or friends at home...nothing too elaborate, but authentic nonetheless. Head to the three-block Mercado de Artesanías for a leisurely stroll amid the stalls. Start at the west end and work your way east to find silver, crafts, jewelry, pottery…if it fits in a suitcase, you can buy it here. To the east of the artisans’ market, visit the Mercado Ignacio Ramírez, where you’ll find head-high pyramids of fruits and vegetables, perfect for great photos; nightstand-worthy flowers; and food stalls offering everything from custom-made licuados—think smoothies, Mexican style—to peeled cactus leaves freshly prepared for a nopal salad. Good hunting!

Old San Juan offers historically and culturally significant experiences including a walk through 500-year-old forts, visits to UNESCO sites, historic churches, museums, the second oldest cathedral in the Americas and Ponce de Leon’s mansion. Cobblestone streets and pastel buildings are perfect for exploration during the day and variety of restaurants and shops make for a complementary evening.

When I first stepped into the blue folds of the ICEHOTEL in Jukkasjärvi I thought this must be what Superman’s Fortress of Solitude looks like. It’s that blue found in the water of higher latitudes, a blue that looks photoshopped although no photograph seems to be able to reproduce it with fidelity. Most of the time you and the other hotel guests are dressed in the hotel-issued technical gear: snow suits, balaclavas, moon-boots, mittens, caps. But when you sleep in the cold hotel you strip down to your long underwear, lock your things in a locker, carry a sleeping bag and sleeping sheet to your room, and try to get as comfortable as possible on the reindeer skins. One tip to remaining comfortable is to go easy at the hotel’s ICEBAR. The drinks, inspired by and named after the rooms in the cold hotel, come in hollowed cubes of ice and go down a little too smoothly. The bathrooms, contrary to the supposition made by my friend on Facebook, are not made of ice but you do have to walk outside to reach them at night. We dressed and went to straight to breakfast when we woke. (It is busy in the locker and shower area in the morning.) I ate a protein-rich meal to restore the lost kilojoules and then sat for forty-five minutes in the sauna. When you check out you receive a diploma (write out the name of each guest if you want individual diplomas) perfect for you to share it with the very friends who thought you were nuts for wanting to sleep in the ice and snow and the cold.

Did you know that only 25% of French people buy their cheese from a fromagerie? And of that 25, only 3-4% go to an affineur (cheese refiner). Both are the sad realities of a dying tradition in France of sourcing provisions from neighborhood artisans. Young affineur Baptiste Yapar doesn’t let the disheartening takeover of corporate food business dull his passion. The firebrand cheese master focuses his energy on running his shops Au Coeur du Marché (at the Marché d’Aligre) and educating the public. At La Cuisine Paris cooking school, he takes a small group through a complete background of cheese (it didn’t begin in France!), methods of production and the various designations and families of cheeses available. A copious tasting of 7-10 different cheeses (with wine) follows the contextual debut and is, as my friend and I agreed by the end, the closest thing approximating cheese heaven on earth. It is a fascinating two-hour experience that will not only inform how you consider the nuances of cheese in the future but will have you excited to seek out your nearest independent cheese shop for more.

Good, old-fashioned pie can be hard to find these days, which makes Betty’s in Encinitas more than worth a trip. Don’t be turned off by the location in a strip mall, Betty’s pies are delicious; they always use real fruit, pure butter, premium chocolate and local eggs. Betty’s doesn’t sell pie slices, hence the name Betty’s Pie Hole, but they do make sweet and savory pies in individual and full-size portions. The chicken potpie is hearty and delicious—but it’s the fruit pies, like the perfectly balanced strawberry-rhubarb with a flaky crust, that you’ll be dreaming of for days.

In recent years, one restaurant has set the bar for cool in Cabo San Lucas. Bar Esquina, the Bahia Hotel & Beach House’s on-site bar and grill, features a chic casbah-like design aesthetic, a menu built on Mexican and Mediterranean flavors, and a commitment to organic, locally and responsibly sourced ingredients you taste in every bite. The menu is ever-evolving, but there are standouts you can always expect to find. The tuna tartare is a tiered, artistic creation, featuring tempura and an avocado-yuzu mousse. The Caesar is the signature Bar Esquina salad, here wrapped in a long, flat crouton and served with poached egg and prosciutto. Entrée selections include a generous filet mignon with potatoes au gratin and the short-rib pizza with blue cheese and arugula.

Inscribed above the door of the Ben Youssef Medersa in Marrakech reads the following: “You Who Enter My Door May Your Highest Hopes Be Exceeded.” It is an appropriate proclamation for what is arguably the most mind-blowing example of Islamic design and architecture within a Koranic school anywhere in the country. Founded in the 14th century, it was embellished by the Saadian dynasty in 1570 with an ornate bronze doorway, elegant stuccoes, and a marble-tiled patio lined with elaborate mosaics. The prayer room, with its palm and pine cone motifs, looks down into the courtyard from the students’ quarters and gives a splendid helicopter view of the space. During its heyday, the medersa had room for up to 900 students; it was given over to the city as a museum in the 1960s and has remained so ever since.

“I’ve never seen so much red – except at a French brothel,” a fellow guest said to me as we rode the elevator together. She was right. From the moment you enter the lobby, the Rouge lives up to its colorful name with its red quartz tile, red lamps, and the Red Hot Room (for meetings). You’ll find crimson headboards and velvet drapes in each room -- although there’s plenty of zebra print, too. One of eight Kimpton hotels in Washington, DC, Rouge is certainly the rosiest. Stylish and eclectic in that Kimpton fashion, my street-facing room was both comfy and oversized – and convenient. It’s just three blocks to DuPont Circle and then only a bit further to Rock Creek Park (great for jogging, biking, or just walking). The White House is five blocks away and Whole Foods Market just two. For the athletically minded (like me), the good news is that each room has a yoga mat in the closet and nearly all are large enough to do a complete Vinyasa flow. The less good news: the small fitness room in the basement is dreary (but for $5 you can get a pass to the local “Y,” which has every amenity, including a 25-meter pool). The Rouge’s guests are as idiosyncratic as its décor. Families, business warriors, and hipsters seem to be the main human food groups –converging for the hotel’s wine hour from 5 p.m. to 6 p.m. and at then, again, breakfast. If eclectic’s your thing, the Rouge is your place. Leave the rose-colored glasses at home – you won’t need them here.