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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.

Restaurateur Brooks Reitz built his name with this chicken-and-oyster joint that feels old-school despite its carefully crafted ambiance. On a first visit, it’s sinful not to order the perfectly salted, crispy/juicy fried chicken amalgam shellacked with a glaze of Old Bay and cayenne suspended in melted lard. That necessitates a second visit to gorge on the poached char-grilled lobster and sausage, or the Leon’s Fish Fry, a platter of shrimp, oysters and catfish. Leon’s was the first to open way-Upper King, now the restaurant hotbed, and it’s held onto its cool status thanks to its thoughtful buildout in a restored auto body shop, retaining the exposed rafters and a rollup garage door that opens to a patio out front.

The Rocks is undoubtedly one of Sydney‘s most beautiful areas. Follow George Street until the very end and it’s almost like you’ve stepped back in time—there are cobblestones under your feet, quaint stores to browse, and great pubs to visit. One of the best experiences you can have in Sydney is to visit the Rocks Markets, especially on Friday nights during spring and summer for the Rocks Markets by Moonlight. The warmer months in Sydney are the most exciting; pair them with all the beauty of the famous Harbour Bridge, Opera House and this historic hub and you’ve got the best version of this amazing city. There are stalls offering everything from handmade gifts and sweets to unique jewelry and fashion, but the atmosphere is set off by all of the other quirks that you would never have expected—puppeteers and magicians roaming the crowd, dozens of people young and old wearing headphones and dancing at a silent disco, musical performances and pet displays with some of the most enormous cats and rabbits you’ve ever imagined. All of this set among historic buildings and Sydney’s oldest sites makes for a truly unique experience indeed.

Eat dinner like a conquistador at Restaurante Sobrino de Botin. The combination of its central location off Plaza Mayor and its claim to be the “Oldest Restaurant in the World” makes it charming and fun for family and friends. Make sure to put in a reservation in advance and order a traditional dish. I particularly enjoyed the incredibly thin jamon because it was light and not oversalted.

It may be only 22 miles west of San Juan, but Dorado Beach, a Ritz-Carlton Reserve feels a world away. The resort has a spectacular location on a three-mile stretch of beach on Puerto Rico’s north shore, where Clara Livingston once ran a sugar plantation—and Amelia Earhart visited before departing for her fateful world tour. In 1958, Livingston sold the property to Laurance S. Rockefeller, who turned it into the first of his legendary Rock Resorts. Known for his green streak, he designed the hotel to respect the local beauty, mandating that buildings could not be taller than the surrounding palm trees.

The Ritz-Carlton—which reopened in October 2018 after a meticulous restoration following Hurricane Maria—pays homage to that original vision. Here, every room is beachfront, with floor-to-ceiling sliding doors that disappear into ocean views, plus deep soaking tubs, outdoor showers shaded by gardens, and either spacious balconies or private plunge pools. As part of the property’s renovation, rooms were refreshed with a color palette that amplifies the natural beauty just beyond the doors. Additionally, the grounds showcase 3,000 new plant species, the spa is offering new locally inspired treatments and cuisine, Encanto Beach Club Bar & Grill features a refreshed dinner menu, and the Positivo Sandbar debuted an omakase and ceviche bar directly on the sand. There’s even an entirely reimagined signature restaurant, Coa, which serves farm-to-table fare cooked on the grill. Still standing strong on the verdant, 1,400-acre grounds are the five 18-hole championship golf courses. The biggest challenge is pulling yourself away from the luxury of the resort to tee up a shot.

This hotel has changed ownership and is now the Ambassador Chicago.

In 2011, hotelier Ian Schrager reopened the iconic but faded Ambassador East Hotel as the Public, instantly infusing Chicago‘s Gold Coast with some flash. Its Pump Room restaurant was the city’s first posh, post-Prohibition, celebrity hangout (everyone from Fred Astaire to John Belushi has come). Keeping its name but little of the old decor, the revitalized Pump Room has a 24-foot bar with a 12-karat white gold–leaf ceiling and a changing menu by Jean-Georges Vongerichten. The high-ceilinged, columned lobby feels both grand and intimate, and it’s now divided into a lounge with a computer-equipped workstation and an elegant library/coffee bar with deep couches and original art, including photos by Hendrik Kersten. Residential high-rises along Lake Shore Drive obscure views of Lake Michigan from the hotel, but drop-dead gorgeous rooms elegantly infuse the pre-WWII architecture with white stuffed couches, bronze textiles, and white sheepskin throws for an effect of lush minimalism befitting one of the city’s oldest and toniest neighborhoods.

A tribute to the zinfandel grape, which originated in Croatia, this restaurant and bar features a zin-centric wine list but also showcases regional favorites like Plavac and Dingač. Of its 100 wines, it offers about 30 by the glass, encouraging guests to taste their way through Croatia’s wine heritage. Pair your drinks with one of the restaurant’s three-tiered platters, which come loaded with Dalmatian bites, then settle in on the terrace for some live music. If you’re hungry for a full meal, opt instead for the five-course “Taste of Dalmatia” menu, which includes everything from seared Adriatic tuna and homemade oxtail ravioli to calamari stuffed with ricotta and sun-dried tomatoes. Come morning, Zinfandel also serves breakfast, which diners can pair with champagne or fig-flavored travarica, a local herb grappa.

Gothic and grand, this 18th-century former nobleman’s home stands proudly on the banks of the Grand Canal in the San Marco district. Venetian-born owner and interior designer (among her many talents) Francesca Possati has restored this historic home to its regal glory. She has worked with local artists to breathe new life into original woodwork, ornate trompe l’oeil ceilings, and silk wall hangings, resulting in a once-again polished and posh palazzo. The distinctly Venetian rooms—many with canal views—are styled with rich fabrics, bold wall coverings, and pristine period antiques and illuminated by Murano glass chandeliers. Of course, they’ve been updated with the latest modern perks (like Italian marble and whirlpool tubs in the bathroom).

Stroll the art-filled hallways, splurge for a tasting menu at the elegant restaurant, and watch the gondolas float by from the red-awninged terrace. La dolce vita, indeed.

The Aubrey sits at the edge of Barrio Bellavista, a few steps from Santiago’s bottle-green 1925 funicular (which takes visitors up to Cerro San Cristóbal) and just below the zoo (sometimes guests can hear the animals when they’re lying by the pool). Open since 2010, this 15-bedroom boutique hotel is housed between two 1920s mansions built by the same architect. The larger of the two houses once belonged to famed Chilean railway magnate Domingo Durán. Today, the hotel is owned by a Brit and an Aussie who spent $3 million and several years transforming it into its current state.

The bedrooms are split between the two mansions, and there’s also an outside block housing a few pool suites. A cobbled terrace runs between the restaurant and piano bar. The interiors are inspired by the early 20th-century art deco movement and feature statement art deco furniture, printed fabrics, and elaborate wallpaper.

One of the most widely sold mineral water brands in Argentina comes from Villavicencio, a private nature reserve located on the way to Uspallata, about an hour from downtown Mendoza. It is a historic route because General San Martin took it on his way to Chile to free Argentina from the Spanish crown. The road leading up to Villavicencio has a dizzying 365 curves and has been given the name “Camino del Año” or “Road of the Year”. On the reserve is a picturesque hotel and spa built in 1940, where the wealthiest families in Mendoza used to summer vacation, bathing in the crystal mountain waters and natural hot springs. Today, the hotel has been named a National Historic Monument. It’s closed to the public, but you can hike around the hotel and surrounding nature reserve. There’s a $25 peso entrance fee that includes a guided visit. It’s open from Tuesday to Sunday, 9:00 AM to 5:00 PM.

Guavate, a section of Cayey better known as the Ruta del Lechon (“Pork Highway”), bursts into a rush of food-infused ecstasy every Friday and Saturday. People from all parts of the island come to watch someone roast a whole pig over the open fire before chopping it with a machete. Side dishes abound. I recommend sorrullos (corn sticks), bacalaitos (cod fritters), alcapurrias (fritters made of plantain dough and stuffed with meat), and rice with different types of beans. The blood sausage is not for me, but my father and boyfriend devour it every chance they get. Here in the mountains, shacks of all sizes let you pick your poison—beer, piña colada, or mojito (made from lime, mint leaves, rum, and sugar)—and drink to the beat of salsa and reggateon music. This creates the euphoric atmosphere for which Puerto Ricans are so famous. The cherry on top of the piña colada: Guavate lets you absorb the laughter, music, and food for a reasonable price. If you want the pig, but not the rambunctiousness, take your food to El Yunque National Forest and eat it by a waterfall (see my “Swimming Under a Hidden Waterfall” highlight). To find it, get on Luis A. Ferre Expressway, take the exit toward PR-184, and follow the signs for Guavate. You’ll start seeing pork soon after you take PR-184, but wait about fifteen minutes (until you’re around km 27) before you stop to get all the real action.

If you’re looking for a special spot to celebrate an occasion or a loved one Scottsdale, make your way to T. Cook’s. Chef Paul McCabe is an Arizona native from Sedona’s red rock country who’s inspired by local, seasonal ingredients. His menu abides by fresh Mediterranean principles and features grown-up takes on comfort food. The bolognese, for example, is made with rabbit and sits atop a bed of edible flowers, while short rib-stuffed ravioli is paired with scallops, chanterelle mushrooms, and a little peach for sweetness. Brunch is a popular draw, too, with sweet and savory options that include lemon ricotta pancakes and a pancetta omelet.

Chez Baptiste has been open since 1922 and although it recently underwent a rejuvenating identiity change, it still holds that old-world mystique that only places this old can have. Times have changed. Fashion has changed. Residents have changed. And the people to go into Baptiste too. Especially those who are hockey fans -- hockey players are now paid millions, and they even wear a mask. To think of how different things were when Baptiste open is mind-boggling. But one thing I’m certain is that the staff still serve the finest brews with the same sincere smile at their predecessor. Often described as a “best friends hangout”, the watering hole is mostly frequented by regulars, groups of friends that simply want to grab a few pints and make new world domination plans together (that’s what friends do, right?) At Baptiste, the stress is left out of the door and that’s when the fun starts. Good times ahead, folks.

In the foothills of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains north of Santa Fe, the village of Chimayó has become famous for its adobe church, “El Santuario,” whose side chapel’s dirt floor is reputed to have healing powers. Every Good Friday, tens of thousands of pilgrims make their way to this “Lourdes of the Southwest.” Others descend upon this valley for more temporal reasons. Just down the road from the Santuario is the century-old adobe home that houses the “Rancho de Chimayó,” a New Mexico institution. Owned by the Jaramillo family, this restaurant is known for its carne adovada--pork that has been stewed to tenderness in red chile. You may or may not believe in the power of the dirt in the Santuario’s floor, but the taste of this valley’s chile will have you convinced that the terroir--the taste of place--deserves its venerable reputation. Get the “combinación picante” so that you can sample a tamal, rolled cheese enchilada, beans and posole along with the carne adovada. And don’t use all of your sopaipilla (the steaming square of puffy frybread) to soak up the chile; save a corner so you can douse it with local honey as a dessert... Chimayó is an easy forty-minute-drive from Santa Fe, on “the high road to Taos.” Across the road from the restaurant is a B&B, run by the same family as well.

To stay at the Verana, an eco-lodge outside Puerto Vallarta, guests take a 30-minute boat ride to the village of Yelapa. (Dolphins accompanied me on the journey.) Scattered on a jungle hillside are eight variegated cottages and stand-alone rooms. My cottage, Palapa, had no walls, which maximized the views of the Bay of Banderas. A gang of chatty wild parakeets provided my wake-up call. The hotel spa offers facials and massages, and you can relax by the pool, which is crafted from concrete tinted in the hues of the local trees, rocks, and clouds. —Karen Catchpole