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Some attribute Hoi An’s plethora of tailor shops to its history as a center for the silk trade, even though the bespoke clothing boom is a recent one. Others maintain that the phenomenon comes from a Vietnamese propensity for copycat businesses. Either way, the ancient town has established itself as the place to get clothes made economically in Southeast Asia. If getting some new threads is on your Vietnam wish list, there are several reputable tailors and boutiques in town.

AFAR chose a destination at random—by literally spinning a globe—and sent comedian Jorma Taccone on a spontaneous journey to Nairobi, Kenya.

After a string of personal losses, a writer heads to Tamil Nadu seeking solace from her sorrows. It takes two temples, a palm leaf astrologer, and the driver of a velour-lined taxi to make her feel whole again.

An aspiring bluegrass fiddler from London discovers much more than music on a trip to North Carolina.

Minsk, the austere capital of Belarus and a former Soviet satellite, harbors Beatles cover bands, bookish bohemians feasting on salo and vodka, and the curious legacy of Lee Harvey Oswald.

When you’re ready for a proper pisco, Miraflores’s PiscoBar is a capital choice, both for traditional cocktails as well as heady new creations. As is to be expected, owner Ricardo Carpio is a celebrated pisco expert, which makes this the ideal laboratory for personal tastings of some of the country’s premier brands. Happily, it’s also a fabulous place to eat, whether you’re craving tapas or a full-on meal. Dishes like the seafood risotto and the beef with tacu tacu (Peruvian refried beans and rice) make you wish you had a Peruvian grandmother; the welcoming staff provide a warm facsimile.

Tourism is down, prices are up, social services are disappearing, and the government is bankrupt. Which means it’s a good time to get to know Seychelles.

Every culture seems to have its own ways of making wishes and prayers. I’ve tossed many a coin into many a fountain and blown out many a candle on a cake. In Mongolia, the tradition revolves around the ovoo, a large stone cairn. Ovoos serve mainly as religious sites, used in worship of the mountains and the sky as well as in Buddhist ceremonies. They are also used as landmarks – important on the Mongolian steppes where there are few paved roads, let alone street signs! The tradition for travelers is to walk around the ovoo three times, in a clockwise direction to wish for a safe journey. Three rocks are picked up from the ground and added to the pile each time you circle around the mound. Ovoos will have tree branch or stick in the middle. Worshippers tie a blue khadag, a ceremonial silk scarf that is commonly white in color in northern Buddhist cultures, to the branch. Some of the cairns were large enough that we could actually drive around them and others were far away enough from the road that all we did was honk the horn three times. Apparently, honking the horn is acceptable if you don’t feel like getting out of the car. I’m not superstitious but who doesn’t want to wish for a safe journey so I took every opportunity that I could to walk around the ovoo. Besides, it was really interesting to see them up close. It’s not uncommon for worshippers to leave items behind like animal skulls, bones, and utensils. I even saw bottles of vodka and a crutch!

Jalavihar is a water park with activities for the entire family. The space features multiple pools, a wave pool, a lazy river ride, water slides, and a toddler area. If you wish to stay dry, there are also bumper cars, miniature trains, bungy trampolines, mini-golf, and an arcade. Be sure to check out the Party Zone, which features sprays of water keeping you cool on the dance floor.

A kitchen dynamo whose energy belies her age of 77, Supinya Junsuta, aka Jay Fai, is chef-owner of one of the Thai capital’s most renowned shophouse restaurants—the eponymous Jay Fai—and one of the city’s most recognizable foodie personalities. In her trademark heat-resistant goggles, essential protection from a searing inferno of hot oil, she cuts a distinctive figure. And her fame and the crowds have only grown since the Michelin Guide judges gave her eatery Thailand’s first and only Michelin star for street food in 2017 (so much so that she has expressed a wish to give the star back). Her lofty reputation is founded on the alchemy she produces from her scalding wok, with stir-fries such as pad kee mao talay (drunken noodles with seafood) and other dishes like fluffy khai jeaw poo (crab omelet) and a complex tom yum goong (hot and sour shrimp soup) more than justifying the (relatively) steep prices.

Old school ice cream parlor and soda shop with homemade candy and ice cream since 1921 in the same location in Bucktown. I wish the little jukeboxes on the tables worked but clearly it’s not hampering their business as there’s a line out the door every day, especially in the summer. Margie’s is a small place but perfect for an afternoon sundae dripping with hot fudge and maybe a dozen chocolate dipped cherries to go.

“Buongiorno, Signor Farley,” said Umberto, the head waiter at Hotel Missoni’s Cucina restaurant. By the beginning of the third day of my stay, the staff knew my name. And what I drank with breakfast. An espresso doppio was delivered to my table a minute later. “Prego,” the server said.

You’d think I was in Italy. In fact, I was 2,500 miles southeast of the country’s heel, in the capital of diminutive, oil-rich Kuwait. Opened in spring 2011, Hotel Missoni, owned by the eponymous fashion and home furnishings house, is one of many designer-conceived hotels that have popped up around the globe.

I have to confess: I have a complicated relationship with fashion. Maybe it’s related to my childhood. (Isn’t everything?) In the seventh grade, I wore a T-shirt to school that read, “My Son Is in the Navy.” My trend-conscious peers, who clearly had no sense of irony, laughed at me until the final bell rang. When I wore bowling shoes to high school, I was similarly mocked. How would I do in a hotel designed by a couturier?

I was picked up at the airport in Kuwait City in a Maserati (a complimentary perk for all Missoni guests). Not a bad start.

The property (like its sister hotel in Edinburgh, which opened in June 2009) is the brainchild of the Missoni family matriarch, Rosita. The hotel’s 169 rooms were designed to feel like her home. Compact Hans Wegner wishbone chairs and tuliplike Eero Saarinen–designed tables rest on hardwood floors, and everything—espresso cups, towels, even the swimming pool—displays the colorful striped patterns Missoni is known for. Generous helpings of turquoise, gold, and beige are splashed throughout the hotel to evoke the bayfront landscape outside, and every room looks out on the ever-expanding Kuwait City skyline. Like many things Italian, the hotel is simple and comfortable.

The Missoni team, which is fine-tuning its approach before opening hotels in larger markets, learns fast. There are no design hotel clichés here: no faucets with the function designed out of them, no overly formal staff. “Are those Camper shoes?” a waiter asked me one day at breakfast. I nodded. “Like bowling shoes,” he said. “Very cool.” Here, it seemed, fashion and I got along great.

965/2577-0000, from $414. This appeared in the September, 2012 issue.

Seafood is the star at Rappahannock Restaurant in downtown Richmond. This is the third venture of the Croxton family, which has played a major role in the Chesapeake Bay oyster resurgence. The restaurant’s raw bar features four oyster varieties, clams, and caviar; Virginia fish and meat round out the menu. Cocktails are given similar reverence and made with fresh, seasonal ingredients to complement the food. Should you wish to go straight to the source, the Merroir tasting room is an hour from Richmond and overlooks the Rappahannock River where the oysters are grown.

In early April, I spent a week on a yoga retreat at Amansala in Tulum, Mexico. We had four hours of yoga and Pilates practice a day, and I spent the rest of my time on the beach, swimming in the ocean, reading books (I finished Gabrielle Hamilton’s excellent memoir, Blood, Bones, and Butter), drinking coconut juice, and snacking on delicious homemade tortillas, salad, salsas, and guacamole. At night we ventured out to explore, and discovered a wonderful new open-air restaurant called Hartwood, where I wish I could eat every night.