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The natives that guide you through Canyon De Chelly are very passionate about their historical heritage: the battles that their people have survived, the ceremonies they live by, and the dwellings that they carved out of the massive cliff sides. The Navajo people had to hide in the mountains, and for extended times they weren’t even able to come down for food or water. The Human Chain is the story of how they created a chain by climbing down each other in the night to bring up baskets of water while their enemy slept. Many survived because of that daring task.

When I stepped into the grand lobby of Québec’s Le Château Montebello, I felt like I was entering Paul Bunyan’s living room. Giant timbers braced a three-story-high ceiling, and a massive fireplace in the center radiated warmth in all directions. After checking in, I joined the guests gathered around the six-sided hearth and sank into a leather club chair. I spent the rest of the day by the fire, sipping hot toddies and napping, as the comfort of the crackling flames sent me and the other fireside dozers snuggling deeper into our cushions. I had come to ski some of the 65,000 acres of wooded backcountry that neighbor the resort, but the château was so welcoming, I found it hard to leave.


Often described as the world’s largest log cabin, the lodge and two other main buildings were constructed in 1930 from 10,000 red cedar logs and 500,000 handmade wooden shingles. The houses and the vast surrounding forests were long owned by the politically prominent Papineau family, and until 1970, the estate remained a private nature retreat for Canada’s upper class. As I walked through the château’s halls, the intricately carved banisters and exposed beams reminded me of the great western lodges in the U.S. national parks—only without any grumpy tourists demanding to know where the animals are.

In the guest rooms, deluxe amenities such as flat-screen TVs and rain-dome showerheads upstaged anything found in Yellowstone or Yosemite. Despite the modern perks, rawhide lampshades and other rustic details helped my suite retain its frontier appeal. When I got up to pull the plaid drapes closed that night, I watched a horse-drawn sleigh pass by, glowing in the moonlight against the dark ribbon of the frozen Ottawa River.

Without fresh snow to ski the next morning, I was left to explore the lodge’s other activities. I opted out of getting scrubbed with maple sugar at the spa or unsuccessfully flirting with French-Canadian women by the fire, and instead devoted the day to learning the inscrutable rules of curling. The château has an indoor ice rink dedicated to the sport, a national favorite that’s best described as a combination of shuffleboard and falling down a lot. My instructor was Henri, a kindly sexagenarian who, like many in Québec’s western Outaouais region, seemed more comfortable speaking French than English. As it turns out, kindly reassurance sounds the same in either language. But as my backside repeatedly hit the ice, Henri’s patient polyglot insistence that I was doing “une belle job” grew progressively less convincing.

After my rough-and-tumble day, I dined in the white-tablecloth Aux Chantignoles restaurant. Québecois cuisine dominates the menu, and I followed a dinner of tender venison osso buco with a slice of Québec’s famously sweet and jiggly sugar pie—think pecan pie sans pecans. Snow fell just in time for me to ski through the nearby forest on my last day. I spent a long afternoon there, gliding among stands of birch, pine, and spruce in the rolling Laurentian Highlands. Now and again, I paused to admire one of the countless frozen lakes, their smooth surfaces dotted with tracks left by moose and white-tailed deer. I skied in the silent wilderness until just after sunset. As the scent of a wood fire began to tickle my nose, I grew eager to cozy up by the hearth again. I turned back toward the château’s stone chimney, its rising plume of smoke signaling for my return.
This appeared in the November/December 2010 issue.

A visit to Sulphur Springs, which is dubbed the world’s only drive-in volcano, is one of the most unusual excursions you can make in the Caribbean. You’ll smell the rotten-egg stench of sulfur and see steam rising around the dormant volcano’s crater upon arrival. (Don’t worry: The last time the volcano erupted was two centuries ago.) Locals claim that soaking in the mud baths then rinsing off with a dip in the hot springs will rejuvenate your skin and relieve mosquito bites and minor skin problems. Be sure to take a before-and-after selfie to determine whether you look younger after the experience.

Inspired by a former Ford car dealership that once sat on the site in upscale Mission Hills, Fort Oak’s interior mixes old and new; hexagonal tiles and brass accents give the space a vintage feel, while a black oak communal table and plank flooring bring a modern industrial vibe. Executive Chef Brad Wise excels at wood-fired cuisine—the exhibition kitchen has a 7,000-pound grill and range where he fires up 45-day dry-aged ribeye and Australian wagyu beef—but what really sets Fort Oak apart is a raw bar serving seafood towers and buttery hamachi poke. For a decadent night out, slide into Fort Oak’s chef’s counter for a six-course tasting menu cooked by Wise (offered Wednesday and Thursday nights every other week; reserve ahead).

Why we love it: A historic hotel where Old Florida elegance meets contemporary style

The Highlights:
- Unique amenities like a tennis complex, golf course, and private marina
- A wide range of dining options to suit everyone’s tastes
- A prime location near Tropicana Field and The Dalí Museum

The Review:
A member of Historic Hotels of America, the Vinoy Park Hotel opened in 1923—a Mediterranean Revival property overlooking Tampa Bay, designed for America’s elite. It served as a training facility for the Army Air Corps for a brief time in the early 1940s, but reopened as a hotel in 1945 and continued operations until 1974, when it closed in disrepair. Following a $93 million restoration and expansion in 1992, the hotel reopened once again as the Vinoy Renaissance, complete with a new guest tower and an 18-hole golf course designed by Ron Garl.

Today, the Vinoy also features 360 guest rooms and suites, complete with well-lit workspaces, pillowtop mattresses, and Aveda bath products, as well as two swimming pools (one heated), a spacious tennis complex, a 5,000-square-foot fitness center with complimentary workout classes, and an elegant spa offering massages in poolside cabanas. Thanks to the hotel’s waterfront location and private marina, guests can even charter a boat for the day and explore the bay. Dining options range from sushi on the Veranda Patio to farm-to-table fare at Marchand’s Bar & Grill. The culinary standout, however, is Paul’s Landing, named for a Navy carpenter who once fished, farmed orchards, and cured meats and seafood along the St. Pete waterfront. Don’t miss the citrus-glazed shrimp and grits, or the crispy Brussels sprouts with key lime.

“For those folks who enjoy camping, Hix is the Four Seasons. And for those who stay only at the Four Seasons, at Hix they will think they are camping.” So goes the saying of the owners of Hix Island House, located on remote and beautiful Vieques Island. Puerto Rico’s first sustainable lodging facility, the hotel caters to guests who know that going green and living luxuriously are not mutually exclusive. Rooms come with See Design bedding as well as Frette robes and towels. Solar panels provide power, and wastewater from each room supplies the lush gardens. Canadian architect John Hix is responsible for the hotel’s striking concrete exterior, which stands in stark contrast to the surrounding hills, yet provides guests with both privacy and sweeping views out to sea.

Why we love it: A private island resort where guests can truly disconnect

The Highlights:
- Just eight casitas and 400 acres of nature
- A strong commitment to sustainability
- A hyper-local culinary program

The Review:
Off the Pacific coast of Panama, near the border with Costa Rica, floats a lush island that indigenous people dubbed Palenque, or “sanctuary.” Once home to an ancient, pre-Columbian community, the island stood empty for hundreds of years—save for the all the wildlife, birds, and flora—until Ben Loomis arrived. For five years, the architect and designer lived on site, sleeping in a hammock by night and getting to know the land by day. Eventually, he put both his background and love for nature to use by creating this private island resort, dedicated to the principles of sustainable luxury.

There are just eight beachfront casitas and one Villa Estate on the 400-acre island, so privacy is a given. Each of the 650-square-foot casitas has direct beach access, an outdoor tub, organic bath products, daybeds and hammocks, artisan-made furnishings, and a mini-bar stocked with local juices, snacks, and beers. Standout amenities include binoculars, a yoga mat, and a meditation cushion, plus a water bottle to use around the resort; Wi-Fi is free, but “island speed.” In addition to the main beach that fronts the casitas, guests have access to six other sandy stretches, along with nature walking and hiking trails, a main infinity pool, a spa, and complimentary use of kayaks, snorkels, and paddleboards. Meals are full of fresh, sustainably sourced ingredients and vibrant Panamanian flavors; rates include three meals a day, along with snacks and non-alcoholic drinks. An Island Foraging experience brings you closer to the culinary process as you learn to fish using ancient techniques, pick goodies from the island’s orchards, and hunt for wild ingredients along rainforest trails. Off-island excursions like whale watching, island hopping, and more can also be arranged, but with the run of a place like this, it’ll be hard to leave.

Reykjadalur means “Steam Valley"—a perfectly apt description of this pleasant geothermal area close to the town of Hveragerði, a 40-minute drive south from Reykjavík. Formed from a now extinct volcano (Mount Hengill), the valley is best experienced via a two-mile walk along a gravel road, which leads into the hot springs. The hour-long stroll—fairly easy but quite narrow in places—is highly photogenic thanks to the presence of boreholes, waterfalls, and springs, so bring your camera as well as your swimming gear. Be sure also to use only the official bathing pools, since although the light-blue water may look innocent, some pools are hot enough to cause severe burns. If you don’t have a car to get to the site, you can visit the springs via an official tour, which can be done in combination with some horse riding. There is also a restaurant close to the parking lots and bathrooms.

When it comes to Kindred, you can forget your preconceived notions of vegan restaurants. The South Park spot features killer cocktails, filling food, and an edgy design, complete with a coffered ceiling, a white-marble bar, and a demon-wolf-head sculpture mounted on the wall. Pair the refreshing Place of Certainty (vodka, elderflower, Aperol, lemon, Thai basil, winter melon bitters, and cucumber) with Kindred’s take on the charcuterie board (smoked golden beets, kale pesto, and red-chili-and-orange-fennel seitan), or order something more substantial, like the beet risotto or the seared cauliflower steak with squash puree and steak sauce. The restaurant also offers an excellent weekend brunch with everything from cinnamon rolls and banana bread French toast to pancakes with bourbon butterscotch.

The imposing, white-domed wedding cake now known as Palacio de Bellas Artes was originally planned as a national theater, and construction was begun in 1904. The Mexican Revolution, among other things, postponed its completion until 1934, which explains the stark contrast between its creamy art nouveau exterior (note amazing iron- and stonework with local motifs like serpents) and its art-deco-inspired interior, finished in black and red marbles, and with walls that feature dazzling murals by Rivera, Siqueiros, and other postrevolutionary masters. Today the beloved edifice is home to a concert hall, exhibition areas given over to blockbuster shows, and Mexico’s National Architecture Museum; take an auditorium tour—or better yet, see a performance—to lay eyes on the theater’s magnificent Tiffany glass “curtain,” a mosaic formed (they say) by more than 1 million separate glass components.

Full of wild scenery, fascinating history, and delicious local food, Loch Lomond & the Trossachs National Park is a Scottish treasure. At the center of the park is Loch Lomond, the largest body of freshwater in the U.K., featuring ample recreation (everything from kayaking and canoeing to jet-skiing), 30 islands (visit Inchconnachan in spring to see a blanket of bluebells), and miles of bonnie banks (for strolling in the shadow of Ben Lomond). Beyond the lake, the park is packed with interesting corners to explore, from the lush landscapes of the southern section to the sprawling glens and rocky peaks in the north. For the best views, cycle the challenging Loch Eck Loop, or hike the craggy Cobbler. Also worth seeking out are villages like Balmaha, national scenic areas such as Queen Elizabeth Forest Park, and more off-the-beaten-track areas like the Cowal Peninsula and Breadalbane.

The town of Stromboli, the main settlement on the island, sits at the foot of the volcano overlooking Strombolicchio. Its gleaming white buildings surround the dome of a small church, Chiesa di San Vincenzo. The town is fronted by a stretch of volcanic beach where local fishermen haul out their boats on the coarse black sand.

At the tip of the Baja Peninsula, where the turbulence of the Pacific Ocean meets the calms of the Sea of Cortez, lies Cabo’s crown jewel, Land’s End. Here, the iconic “El Arco” rock formation frames the confluence of waters and shelters a colony of sea lions. This distinctive scene has turned up on countless postcards and Instagram feeds—and rightfully so. Get up close by hiring a panga, kayak, or stand-up paddleboard. Soak in the serenity of the dramatic landscape and consider that if you continued due south, your next landfall would be Antarctica.

Latin America’s largest jewelry market, this four-level spot in the heart of Guadalajara features more than 700 jewelry stores, labs, and repair shops. Precious and semiprecious stones sparkle alongside gold, silver, costume jewelry, and watches, making it nearly impossible to leave with just one thing.

Though from Guadalajara (he never let friends forget), Pritzker Prize–winning architect Luis Barragán lived much of his life in Mexico City, where he designed and constructed this, his last residence, completed in 1948. A UNESCO World Heritage site, the home is open to be toured by small groups—by appointment only; English-language guides are available upon request—who want a chance to tap into Barragán’s brand of minimalism, which involved bold monochromism and a masterful use of light; striking horizontality and framing applied to windows, gardens, and views; a highly sui generis Catholic spirituality; and, not least of all, the architect’s bizarre need for control, in everything from what staircases guests might use to what records got played in different rooms.