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Fresa’s Chicken al Carbon is an Austin-owned restaurant serving charcoal-grilled, locally raised chickens, freshly prepared tortas, salads, sides, homemade ice creams, aguas frescas, and a selection of beer and wine. The family-style meals feature the highest quality pasture-raised birds from Vital Farms. Either marinated in achiote and freshly squeezed citrus or rubbed with fresh oregano and cracked pepper, the chicken is grilled slowly over hardwood charcoal and served with house-made tortillas, rice, beans, and fresh salsas. Don’t leave without ordering the cajeta churros for dessert!

A tiny, man-made island in Clifton Harbour built with discarded conch shells, Happy Island is really just a small bar where you can tie up for a while and have a drink, a meal, and a conversation with Janti Ramage, the island’s joyful builder, owner, and operator. Just be sure to call ahead, as Ramage keeps flexible hours.

Located between Akko and the Sea of Galilee, this working kibbutz and spa hotel is the perfect recharge. I know that sounds cliché, but bear with me. First off, the backstory goes like this: a German-born homeopathic doctor stumbled upon the hillside site in 1923 and decided it was his dream parcel; forty years later, he managed to build a clinic there. The sloping refuge into which he poured his heart and soul is now a 97-room health resort, one that is an institution of sorts in Israel. Among Israelis, Mizpe Hiyamim is (understandably) seen as a splurge. That said, it is not all that fancy by today’s rapidly escalating high-end standards, and therein lies its charm. Where else can you go straight from feeding goats to getting a facial or hot-stone massage? The farm’s bounty enhances the experience. It puts out 50 types of cheese and pretty much all the produce that ends up on the menus for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It’s not necessarily a California-style approach to holistic living—the restaurant caters to meat-eaters, and I found myself deliberating between goat neck, lamb shoulder, and veal tongue for the main course. The spa makes use of olive oil from trees that are grown on-site. This, then, is not just another modern temple to individual well-being, but one that combines land and history—human and natural—in a way that truly makes you truly appreciate your surroundings. That, to me, is the ultimate traveler’s recharge.

Outerlands is an Outer Sunset institution. The small restaurant near Ocean Beach serves local, organic cuisine in a rustic-chic setting. Covered floor-to-ceiling in warm, rough-hewn wood, the interior invites lingering over an artisan cocktail or a ginger-lemon apple cider. Lunch and dinner feature such refined but hearty options as cast-iron grilled cheese brushed with garlic oil and slow-cooked lamb shank with nasturtium leaf pesto. The weekend brunch draws a crowd and is worth the often lengthy wait. Standouts include the Dutch pancakes and the house-roasted turkey. You can always make the most of waiting for a table and head to the beach for a quick jaunt before you indulge.

An antique collective with hipster flair, Uncommon Objects lives up to its name, starting with the giant jackalope with light-up eyes perched atop their sign. Inside, you’ll find meticulously arranged displays organized by theme and color, including everything from taxidermy mounts and buckets full of antlers to medicine bottles and wreaths made of human hair. There are plenty of suitcase-sized trinkets under $20 if you’re looking for an unusual souvenir to bring back. If you can’t make it to the store, check out the delightfully creepy photo gallery on their website.

The Diamond Deluxe is a multifaceted property that offers a laid-back take on European upscale properties in paradise. The main feature of the place is a idyllic collection of large pools that cluster within its center. Bridges crisscross these expanses of blue leading the way to beautiful boxes basking under the bright Grecian sky. I recently stayed in one of the Diamond Suites which also comes with it’s own decent sized private pool. (Though gardeners were prone to passing by at odd times of day.) The room was well outfitted with spacious showers, plush beds, and competent air conditioning. (In contrast to the high temperatures outside, the internet was positively glacial. Pretty much unusable.) Being prone to typical Euro qualities, don’t expect the best dining experiences or consistent service. (Some employees were great! Others, not so much.) Alcohol is also best procured elsewhere if you’re hoping for a late night by the room. Oh and on some sites I’ve read it was “overlooking one of Kos’s best beaches.” This couldn’t be further from the truth. You will need to travel to get to a great beach. I recommend renting a car. Driving is easy on Kos. All that said, the property to beautiful, bright, blue, and best enjoyed with a laid-back attitude.

As ubiquitous as “mandu” (dumplings) may be in Korea, when in Seoul, seek out their Mongolian lamb-filled ‘ancestors.’ One theory says that meat-filled dumplings were introduced to the Korean peninsula during the Mongol invasions of the 14th century. If that’s the case, then “buuz” (Mongolian dumplings) have made a comeback in the 21st century. In recent decades, tens of thousands of Mongolians have immigrated to South Korea, and the neighborhood just to the west of the new Zaha-Hadid-designed Dongdaemun Design Plaza has become home to a Central Asian village. Seek out the Cyrillic lettering and look for “Ulaan Baatar” restaurant, on the second floor of an otherwise nondescript building in an alleyway. A plateful of “buuz” would make a hearty meal, but it’s best shared. Hand-cut noodles, al dente, stir-fried with carrots and mutton are another option. If you want a break from the seemingly non-stop chile-garlic-soy palette of Korean food, but still want a ‘local’ flavor, this is your fatty chance. My wife and I were the only non-Mongolians when we had lunch here. We followed the example of the other diners and ordered salty milk tea to go with our food. I couldn’t bring myself to dunk my dumplings in it, though, as everyone else was doing. (Beer and Fanta are also available.) By subway: at “Dongdaemun History and Culture Park” station, take exit 12, walk west and turn left at the next corner; look for the 10-story building with cyrillic lettering on your right.

The Viking Village Restaurant is right next to the Viking Hotel in Hafnarfjordur, Reykjavik area, about 11km from the center. We had our last dinner here and really loved it. Some people consider it a tourist trap. That may be, since the prices are not cheap—but the food is unbelievable. We had the Viking menu, which starts with the famous Hákarl - a piece of rotten shark. We were told that the taste varies and that dark meat is usually stronger than the white meat. Anthony Bourdain has described hákarl as “the single worst, most disgusting and terrible tasting thing” he has ever eaten, but I am here to disagree. We had white meat and if you like strong cheese you will be OK with this too. It comes with a shot of “Black Death” schnapps. Main course was a huge leg of lamb cooked to perfection, the meat was simply falling off the bone and melting in your mouth. There are actors dressed as Vikings, playing different sagas, vocal and instrumental. They are allot of fun to watch as they interact with the people in the restaurant. There was a large German group inside and they put on quite the show for them and us too since we were all in the same room. I would prefer a bit more light inside the restaurant as it is pretty dark - they are trying to recreate the conditions of a Viking longhouse - but apart from that it was a great and delicious experience.

It’s hard to say what’s most appealing about the ultraluxurious Four Seasons Gresham Palace, a stately Art Nouveau hotel on the banks of the Danube. Perhaps it’s the central location, on the Pest side of the iconic Chain Bridge, or the swank accommodations, which range from lovely river-racing rooms with marble bathrooms and deep soaking tubs to sumptuous suites, the largest of which measures 1,464 square feet and features a dining room with crystal stemware and private butler service. With its top-floor infinity pool and picture windows overlooking the city, the spa alone makes a stay worthwhile—a coup in a city known for its thermal bath complexes—but for many travelers, it’s the hearty dishes served at Kollázs Brasserie & Bar (rotisserie lamb shoulder with eggplant and olives; octopus and scallops with potato paprikash) that seal the deal.

The Hotel Adlon Kempinski undoubtedly boasts the most distinguished location in the city—right on historic Pariser Platz, opposite the Brandenburg Gate. The original incarnation opened in 1907 with the blessing of none other than Kaiser Wilhelm II. Despite playing host to such illustrious guests as Tsar Nicholas II, Albert Einstein, and Franklin Roosevelt, the building was almost destroyed after World War II. A new hotel was eventually opened in 1997 and continues to draw celebrities, politicians, and the occasional aristocrat—in 2002, it was here that Michael Jackson notoriously dangled his nine-month-old son out the window.

Needless to say, the hotel is the last word in stately—if somewhat conservative—luxury, as heralded by its glamorous, balconied lobby, which greets guests with the sounds of live piano and a trickling fountain. The sumptuous rooms come with marble bathrooms, full-size work desks, and entertainment centers; the three restaurants include the two-Michelin-starred Lorenz Adlon Esszimmer, serving classic European dishes such as braised shoulder of lamb (there’s a four-week waitlist for reservations, so plan accordingly). A luxury spa and a range of boutiques offering everything from fine wines to jewelry to porcelain are also on-site.

Around for over 10 years, this small “ital” (vegetarian) and vegan spot dishes out flavorful, affordable, and creative lunches in the one-table interior of a green house in Soufrière’s downtown. Favorites include the house pizza, a pie with whole-wheat crust topped with lentils, cabbage, pumpkin, and cheese. Other options include salads, veggie burgers, empanadas, smoothies, fresh juices, and a special cocoa tea. The atmosphere is about as casual as it gets, with a TV loudly blasting as locals stop by for a bite and to hang out.

The Archaeological Museum, Museum of the Ancient Orient, and Museum of Islamic Art in the gardens of Topkapı Palace make up the trio of Istanbul Archaeology Museums. An array of permanent and temporary exhibits display items from sculptures and sarcophagi from the Archaic and Roman eras to treasures uncovered from archaeological projects in Egypt, Troy, Istanbul and beyond. The Royal Necropolis of Sidon sarcophagi and the oldest peace agreement (set in stone) are just two highlights here.

While living in Berlin, I stayed on Warschauer Strasse, on the end closest to the U-Bahn station of the same name. On an evening walk before dinner, I took a walk down the street to explore my new surroundings. This particular set of doors is the epitome of the neighborhood, to me.

A compound-like hideaway on a leafy street a block from trendy South Congress Avenue, Hotel Saint Cecilia is a retro-glam love letter to the 1960s and ‘70s rock music scene, named for the patron saint of music and poetry. But that doesn’t mean that rock stars smash guitars and throw ragers here (unless they rent out all 14 rooms, of course); unlike at its nearby sister properties, Hotel San José and Austin Motel, only guests and club members are welcome at the lounge, a laid-back affair with a Parisian-café–style patio, chesterfield sofas and a fireplace indoors, and craft cocktails and gourmet small plates. Between the 1888 Victorian main house—originally inhabited by a descendent of Davy Crockett—and verdant grounds that hide private porches and a serene pool, the hotel feels more like an impossibly stylish artists’ retreat than a celebrity getaway.

Each distinctively decorated room is larger than many an apartment, and seems ripped from the pages of a fashion magazine photoshoot. Every detail has been thought through, from the refreshing Grown Alchemist body care products to the Swedish Hästens mattresses (the hotel is the only one in North America with them in all rooms) to the impressive library of LPs to borrow. Everyone’s a rock star, here.

This place is in the middle of nowhere in Southern Albania. There is no bus stop. You just have to motion to the driver to pull over at the side of the road when you see a promising looking dirt trail. You take that trail off the main road, all the time assuming that you couldn’t possibly be in the right place. And then, almost inexplicably, there is a sign for the Blue Eye and a guard, sitting in a booth along the road. He’ll collect a few coins from you, and then you keep walking. If you’re lucky, a truck driver or local tourist will pick you up along the stretch of windy, dusty road that weaves along the side of a body of water that gets ever clearer as you move along. At the end of the trek, you’ll find the clearest, bluest water you’ve ever seen, and if you’re lucky you’ll be able to eat on the little floating deck they’ve installed in the river that flows out of the Eye. The restaurant serves heaping plates of lamb ribs, grilled over charcoal and big bottles of cold Albanian beer, all for a few dollars. A short walk up a dirt path from the restaurant lies the main destination: a coldwater spring of unknown depth and unbelievable color that bubbles up into a green little grotto. It’s often too cold and fast for a swim, but it’s refreshing to put your feet into and beautiful to hang around. There is also a small hotel for people who want to spend the night or can’t manage to catch a bus onward before nightfall.