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Yes, New Mexico actually has an official “state question"--since 1996, referring to the ubiquitous chile sauce, it’s “red or green?” Fortunately you don’t have to choose just one; the local way to say ‘can I have both’ is just one word: “Christmas.” If you’re driving through New Mexico on the way to Arizona and points beyond, the only town of any size on I-40 between Albuquerque and Flagstaff is Gallup. For road-trip food here, get away from the Interstate and its humdrum chain restaurants. Seek out Jerry’s--a block off old Route 66. You can’t miss the retro neon sign, and there’s often a line out the door for its New Mexico-style fare. Gallup is surrounded by Navajo, Hopi, and Zuni lands--you might well be one of the few non-Native-Americans eating here at breakfast or lunch. The restaurant allows local vendors to come in and show their wares--usually jewelry and bracelets--while you eat. (You can request a ‘do not disturb’ sign for your booth if you want.) “Hole in the wall” gets overused, but Jerry’s definitely fits that description. Nothing pretentious here--but the flavor of the chile sauce is as good as you’ll find in Albuquerque or Santa Fe. A recommendation: the flat cheese-and-onion-enchiladas, topped “Christmas” style with a fried egg on top. And don’t forget to sop up the sauce with the sopaipillas, saving some of the frybread to top with honey as a dessert afterwards...

College-town hiking aficionados usually know where to eat, so when the guys up the street at Babbitts Backcountry Outfitters told me this was one of the best places in town for weekend brunch, I went. A lunch-and-dinner place during the week, Criollo Latin Kitchen opens up on weekend mornings with offerings from blue corn pancakes to pork belly tacos, with poblano cheddar grits, sweet ancho chili sausage gravy, and Haitian ‘ti-malice'-inspired relish to go with eggs over easy. And along with the artists’ paintings that change monthly, the food is “local” as well—the menu and the chalkboard on the wall will let you know the ranches and farms in Arizona and Colorado that are the sources for Criollo’s organic ingredients. On this particular morning, I had the “huevos motuleños,” the Yucatán’s version of “huevos rancheros.” And get some bacon—it’s hearty, comes from Black Mesa Ranch in the White Mountains, and will make you want to bring the word “toothsome” back into popular usage. Even if you’re just passing through Flagstaff on your way to the Grand Canyon, or driving from Albuquerque to Los Angeles, Criollo is worth a stop. It’s just a block north of historic old Route 66 downtown. (Criollo is owned by the same folks who opened the nationally-renown “Brix” just up the street—Flagstaff is becoming a restaurant mecca—and its newest sister restaurant is “Proper,” way down the road in Tucson. “Taco Tuesday” evenings with inexpensive margaritas can be crowded.)

Laurel Hill Cemetery is a hidden gem that many locals don’t know about, and those who do have put it on their bucket list of places to go. The cemetery is also on many “first” lists: The first planned rural cemetery for the city. The first architecturally designed cemetery in the US. The first US cemetery designated a National Historic Landmark. A sprawling 78 acres of hillside overlooking the Schuylkill River, Laurel Hill is now within the city limits but when conceived in 1836, this area was considered a rural suburb. Laurel Hill was the final resting place for Victorian gentry, Civil War generals, a signer of the Declaration of Independence (who was re-buried here), architects, spiritualists and industrialists, and local hero and beloved Phillies sportscaster Harry Kalas (on whose grave are blue seats from the old Veterans Stadium). To appreciate the architecture of the tombstones and mausoleums, visitors can wander the winding paths on a self-guided tour. Download a map from the website or get one in the gift shop (Yes! There is a charming gift shop). Or consider checking the website for unique and informative tours, held year-round. Spring and fall are the best times to go; the grounds are elegantly landscaped and maintained. If you drive, there is a parking lot across from the cemetery’s gatehouse entrance. By public transit, Septa’s Route 61 bus from Center City stops near the entrance. There is a small museum across from the gift shop that shouldn’t be missed.

The bustling Joan’s on Third gourmet marketplace is a staple of the Los Angeles lunch scene. It is a revolving door of characters for which L.A. is known: celebrities, aspiring actresses, power moms, and entertainment industry executives. However, it also appeals to those simply with good taste, such as the 70-year-old man who has been lunching with his wife every day since Joan’s opened 14 years ago. While it can feel a bit chaotic with the buzz of the crowd and unintuitive layout, it is a place to experience Los Angeles at its finest and will be hard not to find yourself becoming a regular. Front and center upon entering is their artisan cheese bar, which makes for a perfect pit stop on the way to a dinner party. To the left is their New York deli-style salad and sandwich bar, which includes popular items like the Chinese chicken salad, apricot glazed ham & Brie sandwich, and short rib sandwich with melted Jack cheese, onion, and arugula. To the right are the sweets and snacks with a gelato bar and displays of their delicious pastries including the Nutella-filled ‘pop tart.’ You can order to-go or take your number, find a table and let the people-and-dog watching extravaganza unfold before your eyes. Hit the original on 3rd Street in West Hollywood or the newer outpost in Studio City.

The Heladería de Lares, a 45-year-old family business, sells about 50 unusual flavors of ice cream up in the mountains. Salvador Berreto, known to the locals as Yinyo, founded the shop to commemorate the Grito de Lares, a battle for freedom that had taken place exactly one century before. Yinyo started with corn, a flavor at the heart of the Puerto Rican diet and the current bestseller. Other flavors are cod, coquito (the Puerto Rican version of eggnog), and rice and beans. Fortunately, you can taste two flavors before deciding what to buy, and the ice cream is cheap, so you can stock up. Every weekend, people form what locals like to call lines, but are really boisterous blobs extending half a block down from the shop’s entrance. While eating, people skim through newspaper clips about when Denise Quiñones, a girl from Lares, won a Miss Universe pageant, or study photos of the 1945 Fuego de la Candelaria (a fire in Lares). After reading about the history behind Lares’s anthem and running their hands over the guiro (a musical instrument played by scraping its serrated surface), people often wander outside to the Plaza de la Revolucion. Here, on a typical Sunday, artisans sell paintings of the three magi (the Puerto Ricans’ second Santa) and of flamboyanes (the national trees with orange flowers). If you have doubts as to whether it’s worth it, just ask Bill Clinton and his daughter Chelsea. In 2008, Clinton forced $100 into the hands of Yinyo’s son for a mango ice cream.

Spread out over several acres in the heart of Jaipur’s old town, the rose-hued City Palace complex reflects the influence of several rulers, starting with the 18th-century Maharajah Jai Singh II, who planned and built the outer walls, and ending with additions made as late as the early 20th-century. As a result, the complex—which includes former palace residences and ceremonial areas, armories, gardens, and decorated courtyards—features a mix of architectural styles, from Mughal and Rajput to classical European. Today, this is one of the first stops of any visit to the Pink City as it provides a good overview of the regal history and culture, as well as a look at lots of priceless artifacts. Start in the Mubarak Mahal (Welcome Palace), where you’ll pass under arches and colonnades to check out the collection of royal clothing and textiles, then continue on to the former Maharani’s Palace, now housing a vast collection of armor and weaponry, including intricately adorned ceremonial swords. Other collection highlights include a series of miniatures of sacred Hindu texts (found in the Diwan-i-Am Gallery) and the famous pair of silver vessels In the Diwan-i-Khas courtyard—which, at about 62 inches tall each, are thought to be the largest pieces of pure silver in the world. If the sun’s not too strong, stroll through courtyards like the Pitam Niwas Chowk, where each of the four decorated gates represents a different season.

The sun sets over Istanbul as I am coated head to toe with aromatic clay and served fresh fruit sprinkled with pistachios under the heavenly dome of a 457 year old hamam. Tenderly, my attendant washes me before lathering my body with olive oil soap and encasing me in a plume of ticklish bubbles. Like a mother to a child, she washes me again as the call to pray of the Blue Mosque and Aya Sophia echo outside. This is ‘life’ at the Aya Sophia Hurrem Sultan Hamami. The hamam is named after the famous 16th-century Ottoman icon Hurrem, or Roxolana as she is also known. Hurrem went from slave girl to favored concubine, to legal wife of the most popular Sultan Suleiman. She gave birth to princes and princess and greatly influenced the politics of the Ottoman Empire. The hamam was built by Ottoman architect, Mimar Sinan to honor her in 1556. It is nestled between the Blue Mosque and Aya Sophia. The hamam offers 5 star packages with 5 star services that leave you completely blissed out. I had the uber-relaxing 90 minute Ab-I Hayat Package consisting of wash, body mask, scrub, bubbles and 40 minute oil massage. Whilst other hamams are cheaper, you won’t be disappointed here. Private changing rooms and massage rooms, golden bath bowls, silk and cotton towels, tasty blackberry sherbet drink—the personalized service is truly special. With the motto, “Some rituals never die” the hamam’s luxuries will leave you feeling like Sultan Hurrem herself.

Centuries-old catacombs decorated with human bones pepper the crypts at this Franciscan monastery dating to 1774. Decked out in impressive Spanish Baroque architecture, the canary-yellow church and monastery also house a remarkable library with some 25,000 antique texts (some predating the Spanish Conquest) and are flush with romantic courtyards and cloisters. Don’t forget to look up: A magnificent Moorish-style cupola, carved of Nicaraguan cedar in 1625, oversees the main staircase.

Reservations required—and no wonder. The tours at the Neon Museum sell out months in advance. A walk through the museum’s famous “Boneyard” (where neon goes to die) is fascinating, from motel row to the first integrated casino (one that shut almost as soon as it opened), and the Stardust, with its nuclear testing-inspired font. All of this comes alive thanks to the museum’s famous docents, all art history buffs with loads of family history or other personal anecdotes.

Facing the Arabian Sea and the Gateway of India monument, the Taj Mahal Palace Hotel blends Moorish, Florentine, and Indian architecture. The historic palace wing reopened in 2010 with 243 new rooms and 42 suites, including one that houses the sitar on which legendary Indian musician Ravi Shankar composed his Concerto No. 1. George Harrison checked into the Taj in 1966 to take lessons from the maestro.

It’s an unforgettable experience: Getting up at the crack of dawn in mid-winter, walking through the large municipal park on the Pest side of town, checking in to the Széchenyi Thermal Bath (mostly with Hungarian pensioners because tourists usually arrive later), and slowly easing into one of its three large outdoor hot spring pools, surrounded by the golden yellow neo-Baroque palace—built in 1913 for the baths—while old men playing chess in the water. Then watch as the sun rises slowly, and your breath dissipates into the cold, crisp air. The spa has 15 indoor baths, too, as well as 10 saunas at various temperatures. This spa isn’t about being posh, it’s about easing into the kind of everyday self-care that Hungarians have known and avidly practiced for centuries. Just join them.

A UNESCO World Heritage site in a mountain valley about 40 miles west of Da Nang, My Son is a vestige of the Champa kingdom, a culture that was heavily shaped by Hindu beliefs and practices. Built between the 4th and 14th centuries, the temples pay homage to the god Shiva, though the deity is often referred to here by different names. While some of the shrines are partially restored, and others overgrown with greenery or showing their age (many were destroyed by American bombing during the Vietnam War), the sheer scope of the ruins are proof of the reach of Hinduism and the lofty ambitions of the Cham kings.

This is an island original. Not only is this pub home to the namesake Rum Swizzle cocktail, it’s also the oldest watering hole in Bermuda. Still family-run, this famous establishment first opened in 1932. The bi-level restaurant has a patio and newish gift shop, along with the old-school bar with its walls covered in graffiti left by drinkers. The menu consists mostly of pub fare—shepherd’s pie and the fish sandwich are two popular choices. Breakfast is available weekends until 3 p.m. You’ll likely want to order the bar’s signature drink: The Rum Swizzle is a blend of light and dark rums and a variety of fruit juices served over ice. (The place also now boasts a second location, called simply the Swizzle, in Warwick on the western end of the island.)

Lamu, one of the most magical destinations in Kenya, is famed for being the oldest and best-preserved example of a Swahili settlement in East Africa. The Old Town has been inhabited for over 700 years and is made particularly beautiful by the assortment of Swahili, Arabic, Persian, Indian, and European architecture. Since 1370, different cultures have been lured to Lamu, making it an important trading port along the East Africa coast. Nowadays it enchants visitors with its narrow cobbled alleyways, wandering donkeys, weather-beaten stone buildings, hidden courtyards, and the sight of rustic wooden dhows sailing in the distance. Visit the local mosques, wander the streets of quaint Shela village, sail over to the luxurious Majlis Resort for a swim and a cocktail, or while away the hours on an ornate roof terrace.

The name Fleischmarkt goes back to the medieval butchers who worked along this Inner City street. The surrounding blocks are still home to long-standing merchants like Mühlbauer Hut, a century-old hatmaker. Strolling the area also takes you to Vienna’s oldest church, the tiny Romanesque Ruprechtskirche. Located in a Biedermeier-era house, the nearby Stadttempel synagogue survived Kristallnacht. The Orendi-Hof at Fleischmarkt 1 is a stunning art nouveau building, followed a few doors down by Max Kropf’s richly detailed 1899 neoclassical building and then by a Byzantine-style Greek Orthodox church, all in one short block. In recent decades, the Fleischmarkt bar area gained the nickname Bermudadreieck—the Bermuda Triangle—in reference to tipsy revelers getting lost in its twisting alleys.