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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.

My bucket list included seeing the Northern Lights. This took me to the Chena Hot Springs Resort located an hour outside of Fairbanks, Alaska (the address is WRONG on the map). The Northern Lights are best seen in clear dark skies which is abundant in the Fairbanks area. It was 22 below (which is way cold!), but you could stay snuggly warm in the natural hot springs. The medicinal powers of the hot springs are also a high point. Maybe my imagination, but I went into the pool with an achy hip and came out pain free. The rock hot springs pool is surrounded by snow covered trees. This one looks to me like a tree nymph pointing to the sky and promising you a night time glimpse of the Northern Lights. What a spectacle it is! Mother Nature at her best is the colorful dancing lights that can be seen in this Alaska wonderland. Unfortunately, there is no guarantee that the Northern Light will appear so I am not promising you or guaranteeing you that if you go you will definitely have that remarkable experience. But, if you are one of the lucky ones that are blessed with a view of this remarkable phenomenon, it is worth the trip. If not, you may also see shooting stars in the dark night sky filled with more stars than you can imagine, go on a one horse open sleigh ride or go mushing in a sled pulled by a group of eager sled dogs! Also enjoy the cozy pub that has a great menu and drinks aplenty! Call the resort to confirm what activites will be available during your stay.

It had been a long wait for modern art lovers, but after a three-year closure and a $305 million renovation and expansion, the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art (SFMOMA) reopened in May 2016, and was it ever worth the wait. A new 10-story addition from the renowned Norwegian design firm Snøhetta integrates seamlessly with the existing black-and-white-striped atrium tower, giving San Francisco‘s SoMa neighborhood some serious eye-candy. It’s also now the largest modern and contemporary art museum in America, with nearly triple its previous gallery space. New to the already impressive collection are selected works from the esteemed Doris and Donald Fisher Collection, featuring significant American and European artists of the 20th and 21st centuries such as Andy Warhol, Ellsworth Kelly, Alexander Calder, Georg Baselitz, Barbara Hepworth, and Henry Moore, among many others. Gifts of painting, sculpture, drawings, media arts, and architecture made to the museum since 2009 also rotate through various galleries, while the entire third floor is dedicated to the Pritzker Center for Photography. Visitors take a breather in the tranquil sculpture garden with enormous living wall, or in the fifth floor Cafe 5. Along with offering free entry to visitors 18 years old and under, SFMOMA invites you to try In Situ, the museum’s signature 150-seat lounge and restaurant, helmed by Michelin-star chef Corey Lee, with a menu of dishes culled from the recipes of some 80 chefs from around the world.

Small enough to get around without being overwhelmed, the Musée d’Orsay is a favorite stop in Paris not just for its size but for its collection of Impressionist, Postimpressionist, and art nouveau art. Perfectly set in the center of the city, on the banks of the Seine, and opposite the Tuileries Gardens, the museum is housed in the former Gare d’Orsay, a railway station that was built for the Universal Exhibition of 1900—so the building itself could be seen as a work of art. The extraordinary collection spans art created in the period between 1848 and 1914.

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.

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.

Fontana di Trevi is, as it should be, one of the most visited landmarks in Rome. Seeing it is worth the blind stumble through narrow stone streets and alleyways. But do so at night (and in the rain, if possible) to be rewarded with the stunning sight of the immense baroque fountain lit before a dark and shining background, like a scene from a Fellini movie. This is when the Trevi Fountain is at her most beautiful and most magical self.

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.

This dramatic two-tier waterfall, whose name translates as “Golden Falls,” a reference to the shimmering mist that sometimes appears around the falls, is one of Iceland’s most famous—which is saying something in a country abundant with waterfalls. Saved from oblivion during the 1920s (foreign investors wanted to dam the falls to create hydropower), the waterfall lies in a canyon on the Hvítá river and is backed by scenic snowcapped peaks. It’s possible to follow the falls as they flow downstream through the canyon, either via a walking trail or on a rafting trip, though it’s worth noting that the paths are wet and can be slippery. The visitor center has a canteen that serves up surprisingly tasty local dishes like lamb soup; there are also a gift shop and a local exhibition centered around traditional life in the area.

The mysterious rooftop of Casa Mila both charms and haunts visitors. The glorious October sky above frames the organic forms, each sculpted face watching as I creep up and down the rolling ramps. Children can’t resist playing here, and fortunately there are now fences all around. In my mind, I erase all of those pesky safety features to envision the smooth sculptures growing towards the sky from a scrolling sandy field. Once a site for a scene from Star Wars, the rooftop is now a destination for lovers of Barcelona and Antoni Guadi’s “Modernisma” style. When you visit, you’ll learn the secret behind those long vertical faces rising up above the mystical rooftop.

The dyeing vats at Chouara—as well as at the city’s other tanneries—are among the Fes medina’s most iconic sights. The ancient craft of tanning and dyeing, in all its visceral authenticity (cow urine and pigeon poop are still key components in the process), plays out much as it always has. Chouara has been around since the 11th century. The dyes used in the tannery pits are natural: Blue comes from indigo; red, from poppy or paprika; yellow, from saffron, pomegranate, or even a mix of turmeric and mimosa flowers. The best vantage point for observation is from one of the roof terraces. Leather shops hawking everything from butter-soft leather babouches (iconic Moroccan backless slippers) and poufs, to copies of designer jackets and handbags. (That Hermès Birkin bag, or a facsimile of it, could finally be yours at a fraction of the price.) Although the guides around here are a tenacious lot, don your best smile, carry a posy of mint to hold beneath your nostrils, and settle in for a long chat with the shopkeepers to learn about fascinating process. Expect prices in the shops to vary wildly—much depends on your haggling prowess. A favorite store is the aptly named La Belle Vue de la Tannerie, off the main drag. The shop has sought out skilled tailors with European know-how to create items of better quality using all Moroccan hides, which results in better leather goods. The tailors can copy a motorcycle jacket for you in three or four hours from goat or lambskin, the softest of the hides.

The red-gravel paths that wind among 6,000 plant species, past a babbling stream, and into deeply shaded areas may make you forget you’re in the center of a loud, bustling city. That said, many visitors don’t know that the Botanical Garden includes a small butterfly garden. It’s closed during the week, but you can still peek over a low wall to watch some 50 butterfly species flit about their business. And for one glorious hour, from noon to 1 p.m. on Saturdays, the gate is thrown open and the public is free to walk sunny paths among shoulder-high flowering hedges as colorful, flirtatious butterflies alight on amused visitors’ heads, shoulders, and arms.

This stylishly nautical bar and restaurant is located in the Old Town on Olivia and Elizabeth streets, nicely removed from the hustle and bustle of Duval Street. The dining room decor pays tasteful tribute to Key West’s maritime culture with sea-blue upholstered banquettes and accents like sea star mobiles, brass lanterns, compasses, and porthole windows. Perhaps it’s not surprising that the menu too looks to the sea for inspiration. A great wine list, a knowledgeable staff, and a cool sense of romance all add up to Little Pearl being a good choice for a special night in Key West.

This outdoor ceramic school in the Coyoacan neighborhood is located close to the Museo de Frida Kahlo. The head instructor is a ceramic artist whose simple, Japanese-inspired designs can be found in some of the city’s best restaurants. They also have a booth at the Bazaar del Sabado, but I recommend stopping by the studio so you can catch a glimpse of the pros at work. Watch your feet, because the owner’s cats and crazy-looking Mexican hairless dogs (the breed is called Xoloitzcuintli) have the run of the place.