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John Besh, the acclaimed chef and New Orleans restaurateur, has opened his first Nashville outpost on the ground floor of the Thompson Hotel in the Gulch neighborhood. He brings with him a love of fresh seafood and the distinctive taste of New Orleans—including his mother’s gumbo recipe—through dishes like red snapper court bouillon. The menu includes options from land, too, such as duck confit dirty rice, a Tennessee pork chop with collards and grits, and Mississippi rabbit over hand-cut pappardelle with wild mushrooms. The restaurant, accented with deep blue and touches of Nashville-casual denim, has a relaxed bistro vibe and a menu for every meal of the day. Don’t miss pastry chef Lisa White’s biscuits at breakfast or her after-dinner desserts like Cruze buttermilk cheesecake.

In the posh neighborhood of Príncipe Real, this shopping galleria, located in an exquisite 19th-century neo-Moorish palace, showcases Portuguese brands and designers. In addition to the shops, you can find temporary exhibitions and a restaurant with garden seating. A stone staircase, flanked by bronze statues holding lamps, leads to the second floor.

After studying the time-honored traditions of whole hog barbecue from old-timers in West Tennessee, Pat Martin brought the craft to the Nashville area. He opened his first joint in a repurposed auto-body shop in Nolensville, but now has achieved barbecue-empire status with multiple locations. The grandest branch, in downtown Nashville, includes a terrific backyard beer garden, with an open skeleton of steel beams overhead, the surrounding brick walls covered with bright murals and bric-a-brac from old license plates to portraits of Daisy Duke, and everywhere the perfume of pit smoke. It’s hard to make a poor choice from a menu that includes smoked wings in Alabama white sauce, pulled pork over hoecake with slaw (called the Redneck Taco), and simple slices of beef brisket.

There’s a different way to see the African wildlife in their natural habitat than a safari and it’s called Boulder Beach. We ventured to the Eastern side of the Peninsula (Indian Ocean) to meet and spend time with the locals, Cape Town‘s penguin colony. Following the wooden boardwalks, you gain access to Foxy Beach, a sheltered cove with soft white sand, crystal clear water, massive granite boulders, and birds in butler-style tailcoats. Its nothing short of an Instagram-worthy photo op but I recommend climbing atop a boulder and spending time to take it all in. It’s impossible to capture how majestic this destination truly is.

Every once in a while, the sun shines bright in San Francisco and every city residents flocks to the nearest park or beach to soak up the sun and day drink. Baker Beach, in the confines of SF, seems worlds away from city life. The view of the Golden Gate Bridge is spectacular, and the diverse group of Baker Beach visitors is a testament to what a hodge podge San Francisco truly is. Parking can be a pain in the butt; take the 29 bus and save yourself the hassle.

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.

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.

Perched between South Atlantic beaches and lagoons and the massive sand dunes of the Namib Desert, the town of Swakopmund reflects a Bavarian-meets-African heritage in its buildings, cuisine and language. (It was the main harbor of German South West Africa, which lasted from 1884 until 1915, when South Africa took over the administration of the area.) Learn about the history of the town at the Swakopmund Museum, with exhibits on native flora and fauna, historical objects and archaeological relics, and the ethnology of the Namibian people and their cultures. The architecturally striking Kristall Galerie showcases Namibia’s mining history and includes the world’s largest quartz crystal cluster, a gem garden and a studio and shop for fine jewelry and precious stones.

No hotel in Jamaica blends better with its surroundings than the aptly named Rockhouse, a string of villas clinging to the top of a sea cliff at the western tip of the island. Local stone, timber, and thatch are the building materials, and a harmony of design and setting is the result. The feel is rustic, but not rough (the showers might be outdoors, but the rooms are air-conditioned), and the feeling carries over to the pool, which sits on a rock platform halfway down the cliff face, from where sunbathers can don snorkel and mask and clamber down into a usually calm Caribbean. Even the restaurant hangs over the water, adding emphasis to the promise of dishes being fresh from the sea.

As does practically every hotel in Jamaica, Rockhouse has its celebrity stories, going back to the early ‘70s when Bob Marley, Bob Dylan, and the Rolling Stones added their names to the guest register. But it wasn’t until 1994, when a group of Australian owners took over, that Rockhouse began to evolve its reputation as one of the most Jamaican of Jamaican hotels. It happened in part because Rockhouse has none of the formality that some of the island’s best-known hotels, with their British colonial roots, still possess. And in part because of its active role in funding local education projects, it’s a valued, and popular, part of the community. That, and the restaurant’s homemade jerk sausage is legendary.

A few green acres of valuable Midtown Manhattan real estate affords office workers and visitors with valuable peace and space, two things that are hard to find in the surrounding streets. Bryant Park shares the block between Fifth and Sixth avenues and 41st and 42nd street with the main branch of the New York City Library (also worth a visit). The library runs an al fresco reading room along the north end of the park, and occasionally hosts readings and author events. In summer, a stage at the western edge of the vast green lawn runs a busy schedule of performances and films. In winter, the lawn becomes an ice skating rink and the site of a busy holiday market. All year round, the park is a popular destination for the bocce ball courts, ping pong tables, small carousel, food kiosks, open lawns, gravel paths, seasonal plantings, and a graceful fountain. It may be a challenge to find a seat at lunchtime, but it’s worth the wait. Take a break from your walk and enjoy some great people-watching, as well as shade and a measure of serenity in a green space bound on all sides by tall buildings.

After Toronto, Montréal is the Canadian city with the largest population of residents of Italian descent. For more than a century, the community has been centered in one of the city’s most charming neighborhoods, Little Italy. The way to the heart of this neighborhood is arguably through its stomach or, rather, the Jean-Talon Market, where residents have come to buy produce and stock their pantries since 1933. Even if you aren’t shopping for fresh vegetables or fruits, it’s a good place to come to sample Québecois products and buy gifts like local jams, jellies, and maple products to take back home.

If you’re a fan of Chianti—or Italian wine in general—this is sacred ground. Winemaking has been in the Ricasoli family for centuries (some say this is the oldest winery in Italy, and one of the oldest in the world), and it was the 19th-century Baron Bettino Riscasoli—known as the Iron Baron—who invented the formula for Chianti at Brolio Castle in 1872. It’s worth a visit here for many reasons, including the sheer beauty: The castle is surrounded by nearly 3000 acres of valleys and wooded hills, and is home to 580 acres of vineyards and 64 acres of olive groves. The long list of tours and tasting experiences incorporate both the landscape and the history. Choose from a short Classic Tour, with a bit of background and some tastings, or from several options that take you into the vineyards, the ornate castle, and/or the manicured gardens. There’s also an active vineyard trekking experience, a sunset tasting, a private tasting/lunch inside the castle, and a progressive picnic that takes you to three scenic spots.

One of Mexico City’s most historic neighborhoods—a once-independent city-state politically joined to the Aztec capital of Tenochtitlan—Tlatelolco is a fascinating side trip few tourists make. At its center lies the district’s so-called Square of the Three Cultures, where a colossal public housing development (of revitalized interest to architecture buffs) surrounds a 17th-century Spanish church (notably embellished with stained-glass windows by 20th-century artist and architect Mathias Goeritz) as well as the ruins of pre-Hispanic Tlatelolco pyramids and other structures. In addition to being the exact spot on which the Aztec empire fell, the square was also the site where Mexican armed forces perpetrated a bloody 1968 massacre of university students and political activists. Tragedy aside, the area is still home to thousands of hardworking average Joes, and the community garden, known as the huerto, is pure down-home bucolic charm; it’s well worth a pop-in.

At Pile Gate, the Old Town’s main entrance, descend the staircase to a landing near the small fountain (formerly only for Jews) to experience a moment of serenity, looking at this quiet bay bracketed by the mighty fortresses of Lovrijenac and Bokar. Kolorina means “calm harbor” and is the starting point for several kayak tours around the City Walls and the island of Lokrum. (The bay was also the location for the bloody Battle of Blackwater scene in season two of Game of Thrones. )

The Power and the Glory is a cool bistro in the center of Cape Town that has attracted a cult following among locals. The relaxed style, the bearded staff, the folding chairs, and the sidewalk stools may remind you of a Brooklyn cafe. If you can snag a chair, it makes for a great place to work or to have a meeting over a light breakfast. In the evening, the place is usually packed with revelers. Try the quiche in the morning, the pretzel bun hot dog in the evening, and the Nutella cheesecake for dessert.