Search results for

Running three miles along the Tulum coastline, this massive beach has some of the Riviera Maya’s best conditions: soft white sand, waves tame enough for a calm swim, plus incredible shades of turquoise water. The stretch is chockablock with restaurants and beach clubs offering on-the-sand food and drinks. Along the main coastal road that runs parallel to the shore, you’ll find rustic cabins and luxurious hippie-style hotels with plenty of amenities, whether you’re looking for a bed for the night or just somewhere to grab lunch. After dark, Tulum Beach has some of the region’s best stargazing due to its secluded location and absence of city lights.

On the northeast coast in the Cap Estate area, you’ll find the lovely Cas en Bas Beach. The white-sand beach around a C-shaped bay offers some fun diversions, including horses—you can ride on the sand and even venture a bit into the water—as well as kitesurfers and windsurfers who take advantage of the steady trade winds. A visit will provide you with a contrast to the beach experience on the calmer, busier Caribbean coastline. On the weekend, locals come to fish and picnic. Another draw to the beach is one of the island’s most popular local restaurants and bars, the rustic Marjorie’s Beach Bar, which serves up local food and ambience.

I’m not one to skip breakfast, especially in Italy, where thoughts of cappuccino, pastries, and local ham tend to rouse me early from slumber. But on my first morning at the Hotel Sant’Angelo, in the old quarter of Matera, I was having a hard time dragging myself from the creature comforts of my cave. Staying in a cave, it turns out, can be surprisingly pleasant. There was just one small window high overhead, but the room and adjoining bath were in no way dank—a testament to the natural ventilation that keeps the caves cool and comfortable. The wavy contours of the white tufa-rock walls conjured a feeling of being enveloped in some primordial womb. Yet there were modern amenities: luxurious linens, Internet service, a telephone. Fred Flintstone never had it this good. I might have snoozed until noon, were it not for an impatient mate eager to see the sights. We had arrived in the village the previous night after a long drive across the treeless plains of the Basilicata region, located at the instep of Italy’s boot. Matera is an enchanted world of Stone Age splendor. Known as the sassi (Italian for stones), the bisque-colored hilltop cave homes comprise one of the oldest continuously inhabited places on earth, according to UNESCO. The caves have provided shelter for more than 7,000 years. A millennium ago, shepherds inhabited them and carved churches into the rock; during the Renaissance, the area prospered and elaborate buildings were carved out, the excess tufa sculpted into ornate facades. By the early 1900s, the sassi had fallen into neglect. Families and their animals crowded into the caves for warmth, and disease was rampant. When writer Carlo Levi brought this tragic state of affairs to light with his 1945 book Christ Stopped At Eboli, the Italian authorities moved residents en masse to modern housing—leaving the sassi abandoned, save for the occasional crew brought by film makers (Pier Paolo Pasolini and Mel Gibson among them) in search of a biblical-looking backdrop. It was only in the 1990s that the Italian government encouraged people to move back. Residents revamped the cave dwellings as homes, restaurants, and inns. When the Sant’Angelo opened in 2004, it was the area’s first luxury hotel. The 19 cave rooms are sparsely but tastefully appointed with rustic wooden furniture. Some carved decorations—crosses, hearts, an owl—date back hundreds of years. Fossilized shells embedded in the walls reveal that the region once lay underwater. Eventually, my fiancé and I did emerge from our cave to wander the town’s ancient alleys. A local guide named Dora Cappiello took us into some of the 150 chiese rupestri (rock churches), where she pointed out wine troughs and frescoes of San Nicola, the patron saint of local shepherds. We also visited a cave dwelling that had been restored to resemble its state when the caves were equal parts manger and living space.
Simple, delicious meals punctuated our explorations. The curvy walls of Baccanti, a cave restaurant, created a private nook where we feasted on silky pappardelle pasta with a cinghiale (wild boar) ragu, accompanied by a dry, fruity red aglianico from the nearby Vulture wine region. Tired and sated after a full day, we headed back to our cave—on moonless nights, a flashlight or trail of bread crumbs is advised for the stumble back to the hotel—where the promise of a deep, sound night’s sleep awaited. —Amy Cortese Hotel Sant’Angelo, 39/0835-314010, from $211 for a double. This appeared in the March/April 2010 issue.

With his high-concept McCrady’s and his more rustic Husk—both in Charleston—chef Sean Brock transformed perceptions of Southern cooking from heavy, simple fare to a culinary tradition that is rich, complex, and filled with history. He worked with experts to resuscitate countless heirloom vegetables and grains lost to the agriculture industry, many of which reflect the region’s deep immigration roots (rice varieties from China; spices from Africa). He also changed the game with this simple rule: No ingredient north of the Mason-Dixon may enter the kitchen. Husk Nashville, which Brock opened in 2013, applies the same philosophy, but this time the menu is a nod to the bounty of inland Tennessee. In a 19th-century former residence in downtown Nashville, the James Beard Award–winning chef serves up his modern spin on classics such as pimento cheese, paired here with benne wafers, pickled jalapeños, and chipped beef. The Tennessee-raised pork prime rib, paired with cabbage, pecan butter, and molasses vinegar, is impossibly tender. Leave room for the vegetable plate, which highlights the best of the season’s produce.

Tucked away unassumingly in Copenhagen‘s hip Meatpacking District is one of the city’s top seafood restaurants, Kodbyens Fiskebar Restaurant. The industrial-style interior has design elements taken from the neighborhood and may not seem the setting for a Michelin-worthy meal, but the casual vibe in my opinion, only enhances the experience. The chef is fanatical about sourcing the freshest seafood. If you haven’t booked a table in advance, try going early and score a seat at the bar. The bartender will insist you have a glass of white wine with your oysters (try the briny Marennes). And don’t miss the excellent razor clam with maltbread, fennel, tarragon and dill.

March 5th, 2008 If you want steeps you go to Jackson Hole, right on the other side of the mountains. But routinely, as the storms moved toward the east, they dump even more on this side of the range. There isn’t a whole lot of difficult terrain, but as you can see here, its around if you look for it. I look for it... to avoid it. haha. As a solid Blue Square, sometimes Black Diamond skier, Grand Targhee offers a good amount of terrain and probably a chance to ski in the knee-deep.

Built in the style of a desert fortress near an endurance horseracing center 45 minutes from the city of Dubai, the family-friendly Bab Al Shams Desert Resort & Spa wraps around an oasis and looks out over gently rolling sand dunes that guests explore by 4x4, horse, camel, and mountain bike. Rooms with private balconies or garden patios cluster in double-story buildings that surround courtyards, shaded corridors, and infinity pools. Stone bathtubs, wood furniture, chests, kelims, colorful textiles, and a reproduction spice souk create a Disney-meets-Bedouin lifestyle setting. For peace and quiet, stay during the week, since the main restaurant fills on weekends with locals and bus tours.

The area of gently rolling hills just to the northeast of Lucca is famous not only for its impressive villas, but also for olive oil and wine. A perfect gastronomic stop-off between visits to the magnificent Villa Mansi and Villa Torrigiani, the 30-hectare farm estate Colle di Bordocheo produces both, and offers tastings and tours for visitors. Estate wines such as the complex, spicy Picchio Rosso (a blend of sangiovese, merlot, and cabernet grapes) and the white Bianco dell’Oca (chardonnay, vermentino, sauvignon) marry well with the house extra virgin and platters of local cheeses and foccaccie. Book ahead and you can add lasagne and cold cuts to the basic €15 per head package, making a fine, rustic lunch. There are also apartments for rent on the estate, which lies in a strategic position for visits to the coast, the lush, mountainous Garfagnana region, Florence, and, of course, Lucca.

Opened in 1915 as Tent City—a string of luxury canvas tents along Lac Beauvert, with vistas of Whistlers Peak and Pyramid Mountain—the iconic Fairmont Jasper Park Lodge was possibly North America’s first “glamping” site. The destination proved wildly popular, and in 1922 a main lodge was opened, as well as a series of luxury log cabins spread across 700 acres in the heart of Jasper National Park, a UNESCO World Heritage site. Bristling with Douglas firs and pine trees, the property sees herds of elk nibbling the grass, chipmunks scurrying through the trees, and even the occasional bear. The 442 rooming options—all of which were renovated between 2015 and 2017—include cozy spots in the main building, fireplace-equipped Junior Suites, and bring-the-whole-family Signature Cabins, all with views across the lake or the forest and mountains. The newly introduced Estate Cabins, located near the golf course, feature a private gated entrance for a more residential feel. Classic lodge-style interior design is the order of the day in the cabins, with wood beams and a combination of earthy and granite tones, while rooms and suites are clean-lined and decked out in fresh white bedding and light wood accents.

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.

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.

Another of attorney-turned-hotelier Loh Lik Peng’s boutique properties (along with the New Majestic), Wanderlust is perhaps the quirkiest hotel in Singapore, taking guests on a fanciful journey that befits its name. The building opened in the 1920s as the Hong Wen Chinese School and later served as a settlement where Indian immigrants reared livestock. Its unchanged sober white facade with black shutters gives little hint of the outré interiors. Each of the four floors was fashioned by a different Singaporean design agency, resulting in various themes. In the lobby, an industrial-glam aesthetic manifests itself in an old-fashioned collapsible metal gate repainted in gold, a Frank Gehry-designed sofa, and seats made from recycled road signs by Australian Trent Jansen. Rooms on the “Creature Comforts” floor include Typewriter, where giant lettered arms reach out and up from a sofa with keyboard letters on the upholstery, while lanterns cast shadows of monsters along the corridors.

San Juan’s oldest restaurant has been serving up Puerto Rican and Spanish flavors since 1848. La Mallorquina, set right in the heart of Old San Juan, is known for rustic, home-style dishes like salt cod fritters, arroz con pollo (chicken with rice) and pasteles (similar to tamales).

Fans of the Montage brand’s Laguna Beach and Beverly Hills flagships will love this mountain version, a ski-in, ski-out hotel wedged into the head of Empire Canyon. The sprawling, Craftsman-style manor debuted in 2010, solidifying Deer Valley’s standing as one of North America’s most luxurious ski resorts. Service shines, starting with the “Mountain Host,” who greets guests in the majestic lobby rotunda. Up the grand staircase, the full-service Vista Lounge acts as a communal living room, with vaulted ceilings, exposed wood beams, floor-to-ceiling windows, and leather furnishings gathered around limestone fireplaces. To further entertain guests, there’s also a museum-quality collection of Western art, including Carl Runguis panoramas, John James Audubon prints, and Frederic Remington portraits.

The hotel’s X-shaped footprint means nearly every room has small deck with mountain or valley views. Averaging around 600 square feet, large guestrooms are airy and inviting with lofted ceilings and soothing natural hues. Remote-controlled gas fireplaces are the centerpiece of each room, though the bath suite with heated limestone floors, marble vanity, rain shower, and soaking tub could occupy your entire evening.

Tucked in the Rainforest of Costa Rica is this incredible Ecolodge. We whitewater rafted all morning to arrive at the lodge, our river guides acted as chefs and general grounds keepers upon arrival, and we were treated to the absolute best food we had the entire trip in Costa Rica. The bungalows do not have any electricity, but the staff lights candles in all the rooms and pathways each evening, and dinner is eaten by candle light. Talk about romance!! While staying they have horseback riding through the jungle, hikes, rappelling, zip lining and of course more rafting. Definitely will not be our last trip to this lodge!! The attention to sustainability efforts was also fantastic and commendable.