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Within an hour, travelers can transport themselves from the lights and sounds of Central, Hong Kong, to the green hills and deserted beaches of Lantau Island. Opened in 2012, the Tai O Heritage Hotel encourages guests to immerse themselves in the natural beauty and history of Tai O, a colorful fishing village where stilted houses line the waterways of western Lantau Island. A collaboration between the government and the Hong Kong Heritage Conservation Foundation, Tai O Heritage Hotel was built in the former Tai O marine police station, from which officers defended Hong Kong from pirates for more than 100 years. Three buildings were transformed into nine guest rooms, an interpretation center, and a glass-roofed restaurant, earning the project a UNESCO award for cultural heritage conservation. Historic features such as cannons, guard towers, searchlights, and holding cells, as well as original architectural details like French windows, Victorian granite steps, a Chinese-tiled roof, and century-old fireplaces, were all restored in the process. The hotel also serves regional foods, employs villagers, and gives back to the Tai O community, demonstrating its commitment to celebrating the local culture. Beyond the historic walls of the hotel is a mystical landscape with dozens of butterfly species, Chinese white dolphins, and Hong Kong’s best sunsets.

Across the bay from Puerto Ayora on Santa Cruz Island, Finch Bay is one of the few hotels in the Galapagos Islands located near a beach. While the hotel prides itself on its ecofriendly touches—such as its own water treatment plant, solar panels, a composting system, and the addition of 500 new mangrove plants surrounding the hotel—the atmosphere is more that of a contemporary resort than a rustic nature lodge. Outside, an oversized pool overlooks the ocean; inside, a Cordon Bleu–trained chef heads a modern restaurant. Dark volcanic stones line the walls in the suites, while standard rooms all come with hammock-slung wooden balconies. Like most hotels in the Galapagos, Finch Bay is all-inclusive, providing land and sea excursions to attractions like the highlands of Santa Cruz, to search for giant tortoises in the wild. Also included are daily excursions on the hotel’s private yacht to nearby islands like Bartolomé or North Seymour, national park highlights, which can be reached on day trips.

Dinner at Le Toiny Restaurant is a full frontal assault on the senses; as if the spectacular ocean-side setting were not enough, the culinary witch doctors at Le Toiny, led by executive chef Jean-Christophe Gille, whip whimsical French classics into contemporary Caribbean masterpieces with just the right amount of gusto. Le Toiny is open daily for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and features the Tuesday Fish Market, and the Sunday “Brunch du Toiny.”

Take it from a local: If you’re looking to bond with the locals and enjoy some simple fare with lots of taste, drive down to Williche. The family-owned sandwich shop in a street corner in Cabo Rojo is just a block from the town square and a fifteen-minute drive from a couple of beaches.


Williche, a small building with pictures of old Cabo Rojo and slogans proclaiming a love for Puerto Rico, serves you cafeteria-style. It offers juices, different kinds of sandwiches, and milkshakes that are just the right amount of dense. My mom and grandparents started taking me there when I was a kid and I’ve been enjoying their bocadillos ever since. You would expect little (seeing as how they’re basically bread, ham, cheese, onions, tomatoes, and ketchup), but that makes their immense flavor all the more satisfying.


I’ve been living outside of P.R. for more than six years, but every time I come home, I ask my family to stroll down with me by the dominoes-playing older men and to Williche. It’s almost always packed, but I and everyone else know the woman behind the counter (the founder’s daughter). It means we can talk and laugh with her, and get to know anyone else who happens to wander in.


Forget Olive Garden. When you’re in Williche, you’re family.

My sister freaked out when she heard that Kenny Chesney would be playing a special concert at the Atlantis Resort on Memorial Day weekend last year. She begged me to go, and with neither of us having been to the Bahamas, it was an absolutely fabulous experience. We shopped and laid out by the pool during the days, while experiencing all the nightlife and restaurants that the resort has to offer. We had a great weekend, and Kenny was the topping on the cake!

A 600-suite hotel within a hotel, The Cove is the most luxurious of the room towers at the Atlantis Paradise Island Resort. Kids aren’t banned, but the vibe is definitely grown-up—witness the adults-only Cove Pool, with its DJ-driven party scene, outdoor gaming tables, and mating-ritual pool wear. But there’s a sense of sophistication in the two-story lobby, which soars above ponds of water lilies, as well as the suites, which have balconies with ocean views, sunken living rooms, and marble-floored bathrooms. All the activities of Atlantis, including those that make adults feel young again—such as the Abyss and Leap of Faith waterslides, or the dolphin encounters—are only steps or a free shuttle ride away. Also available is immersive programming that connects guests to the rich history, art, people, food, and festivities of the islands, from exhibits showcasing regional artists and a weekly Junkanoo Fest & Feast (honoring a more than 500-year-old tradition) to five new outposts of beloved local Bahamian restaurants.

Hiking the French Valley is part of the W-trek through Patagonia’s Torres del Paine National Park. It’s about 16 mi round-trip from Refugio Paine Grande to the French Valley Mirador, to see the French Glacier and the Paine Massif as close as you can get. The trail is diverse and only reaches a steep height at the last 5.5 km on the way there. You begin at Lago Pehoe and take grassy paths through the forested valley, on an terrain that the locals call “Patagonia flat,” i.e. an undulating up and down of several feet. On the way you’ll see tiny magenta--and edible--berries that taste just like apples; you’ll cross small glacial streams where you can fill up your water bottle with fresh, wild water. You’ll trek right by the Cuernos, or the “Horns,” another well-known set of peaks in Torres del Paine. Over the French River you go as you get deeper into the valley, over wobbly rope bridges. The final 5.5 km to the French Valley Mirador has you balancing on thousands of loose boulders on your way up. The very top of the trek feels like being in the middle of a Patagonian fishbowl: Paine Massif to your left, French Glacier in front, the Aleta de Tiburon (the Shark’s Fin) and the Cuernos to the right, and turquoise Lago Pehoe behind you.

The colorful Po Lin Monastery was built more than a century ago in the secluded mountains of Lantau Island. In 1993, the 112-foot-high bronze Tian Tan Buddha, also known as the Big Buddha, was erected to face the monastery and north toward the Chinese people of the mainland. Since then, Po Lin has been on the tourism map. Seated on a lotus flower and with a raised hand delivering a blessing to visitors, the Buddha welcomes visitors to climb the 268-step base to share some expansive mountain and sea views. Have a walk through the grounds of the monastery, which include the new Grand Hall of Ten Thousand Buddhas and a popular vegetarian restaurant. Though you can take a bus, train, or taxi, the 3.5-mile Ngong Ping cable car is a thrilling way to get there.

After driving just over six hours from Denver into the northern reaches of Wyoming, I needed to crash for the night. Taking the Buffalo (population 4,585) exit off the interstate, I cruised towards downtown passing a Holiday Inn Express, a Super 8, and a Day’s Inn. Did I really have to spend the night in a modern matchbox of a room? No, in fact, I didn’t. I used one of my lifelines and called a friend, asking her to do a quick Google search. Bingo! She said, “Go to the Occidental!” almost in the same tone Horace Greeley had uttered, Go West, young man.” In the front window, a sign read: “Wireless in 1880 and still wireless. Internet in all rooms!” I opened the front door and walked directly into the 19th century – a Tiffany chandelier, an embalmed moose head, and a roaring fireplace in the lobby of this 130-year-plus historic hotel. According to the owner, the Occidental’s been witness to a parade of Western icons: Butch Cassidy, Calamity Jane, Buffalo Bill, Owen Wistler, and Teddy Roosevelt. I kind of liked the idea I’d be sleeping under the same roof, as had this gang of five. Fully restored in 2007, the names of the rooms themselves conjure up another era: The Bordello, Cowboy Bunkhouse, and Madam’s Retreat, to name a few. I happily wound up in the Cottonwood Suite, boasting a four-poster king bed, an ensuite bathroom, and dressing room. Twenty-first century comfort amidst 19th century antiques. If you’re in the area, this is the place to spend the night.

A year ago I had dinner at the Clifton, then under the supervision of Tucker Yoder. Mr. Yoder was elsewhere that evening, but I spent several hours at the “chef’s counter” in the kitchen, watching executive sous-chef Jarad Adams work his own delicious magic. Naturally Mr. Adams was meticulous with his food prep, but he was also surprisingly generous with his time for me. Imagine my delight when I returned this year to find Mr. Adams had been promoted to Executive Chef. On this visit, Mr. Adams’s tasting menu showed the same attention to detail as I remembered, but with a greater sense of adventure — even whimsy. From the amuse bouche (a spoonful of polenta topped with pork belly, apple, and a sprig of fennel) all the way through to the sticky toffee pudding with candied pecans, dates, and caramel ice cream for dessert, I was enchanted. The tasting menu consists of four courses and varies by the season. My first course was a toss-up between the butternut squash and apple soup and the shaved winter vegetable salad with hazelnuts, black cocoa, and a buttermilk dressing. I had no regrets about my choice of the salad, especially as butternut squash was the foundation of my next course: the most perfectly seared sea scallop I can remember. From there it was onto monkfish with beluga lentils, with Brussels sprout leaves dancing on top. Mr. Adams knows what he’s doing in the kitchen, and the Clifton — and Charlottesville — is lucky to have him.

Myrtle Allen is Ireland’s answer to Alice Waters: The centenarian chef has lobbied the Irish parliament for better food policies, earned some Michelin stars, and, 50 years ago, opened a restaurant called the Yeats Room in the town of Shanagarry, an hour east of Cork City. She eventually added bedrooms upstairs and called it Ballymaloe House, and her sous-chef-turned-daughter-in-law, Darina Allen—who has written canonical Irish cookbooks and helped lead Ireland’s Slow Food movement—tacked on the Ballymaloe Cookery School and farm two miles from the main house.

This is thus the seat of Ireland’s food royalty, and it shows. The restaurant spins flavorful dinners out of whatever comes in from the farm or East Cork’s fishing boats, and the cookery school has become known the world over for teaching expert and novice chefs to make pizzas, ferment pickles, cook baby food, and grow fruits, vegetables, and herbs. Even without all that, the ivy-fronted house—and cabins and cottages on the farm’s grounds—make for a simple, pleasant country retreat.

“I’ve never seen so much red – except at a French brothel,” a fellow guest said to me as we rode the elevator together. She was right. From the moment you enter the lobby, the Rouge lives up to its colorful name with its red quartz tile, red lamps, and the Red Hot Room (for meetings). You’ll find crimson headboards and velvet drapes in each room -- although there’s plenty of zebra print, too. One of eight Kimpton hotels in Washington, DC, Rouge is certainly the rosiest. Stylish and eclectic in that Kimpton fashion, my street-facing room was both comfy and oversized – and convenient. It’s just three blocks to DuPont Circle and then only a bit further to Rock Creek Park (great for jogging, biking, or just walking). The White House is five blocks away and Whole Foods Market just two. For the athletically minded (like me), the good news is that each room has a yoga mat in the closet and nearly all are large enough to do a complete Vinyasa flow. The less good news: the small fitness room in the basement is dreary (but for $5 you can get a pass to the local “Y,” which has every amenity, including a 25-meter pool). The Rouge’s guests are as idiosyncratic as its décor. Families, business warriors, and hipsters seem to be the main human food groups –converging for the hotel’s wine hour from 5 p.m. to 6 p.m. and at then, again, breakfast. If eclectic’s your thing, the Rouge is your place. Leave the rose-colored glasses at home – you won’t need them here.

As ubiquitous as “mandu” (dumplings) may be in Korea, when in Seoul, seek out their Mongolian lamb-filled ‘ancestors.’ One theory says that meat-filled dumplings were introduced to the Korean peninsula during the Mongol invasions of the 14th century. If that’s the case, then “buuz” (Mongolian dumplings) have made a comeback in the 21st century. In recent decades, tens of thousands of Mongolians have immigrated to South Korea, and the neighborhood just to the west of the new Zaha-Hadid-designed Dongdaemun Design Plaza has become home to a Central Asian village. Seek out the Cyrillic lettering and look for “Ulaan Baatar” restaurant, on the second floor of an otherwise nondescript building in an alleyway. A plateful of “buuz” would make a hearty meal, but it’s best shared. Hand-cut noodles, al dente, stir-fried with carrots and mutton are another option. If you want a break from the seemingly non-stop chile-garlic-soy palette of Korean food, but still want a ‘local’ flavor, this is your fatty chance. My wife and I were the only non-Mongolians when we had lunch here. We followed the example of the other diners and ordered salty milk tea to go with our food. I couldn’t bring myself to dunk my dumplings in it, though, as everyone else was doing. (Beer and Fanta are also available.) By subway: at “Dongdaemun History and Culture Park” station, take exit 12, walk west and turn left at the next corner; look for the 10-story building with cyrillic lettering on your right.

I don’t know whether it was the early morning fog, the rolling hills surrounding the vineyard, or the grapes themselves that made me do a double-take: Was I really in Chile’s Colchagua Valley, or was I back in California’s Sonoma Valley? With its intoxicating location and old world charm, Casa Silva (the colonial-style inn that sits in the midst of the family vineyard) has the best of both. It’s a place to relax, tour the surrounding vineyards, and – naturally -- drink their own varietals (especially the Sauvignon Gris, Sauvignon Blanc, and Petit Verdot). With only seven rooms, Casa Silva sits somewhere between a B&B and a guest house, with shabby chic rooms that are a throwback to Chile’s colonial era. We snagged room no. 4, with high ceilings and a comfy four-poster bed as well as an oversized bathroom. While the inn itself is special, the restaurant is worth a visit on its own. It has a clubhouse feel, overlooking the family polo field, but with unique and breathtaking views of the Andes. Hotel guests can take a leisurely 20-minute walk through the vineyard to the restaurant, which features Chilean specialties like conger eel, queso fresco, and tuna ceviche in one of the most dramatic settings I’ve ever enjoyed. (And don’t pass up the mote con huesillos, aka “wheat berry peach dessert.”) Finally, not to be missed: the tour of Vina Casa Silva, which houses one of Chile’s most up-to-date wine facilities and the family’s collection of perfectly restored antique cars.

Driving down an old dusty dirt road near Vila Verde da Raia in the area of Tras-os-Montes in northern Portugal I could imagine the area in the 19th or 20th century.The region probably hasn’t changed very much. I have seen pictures of this road from the 1940’s and I can’t see any difference. The road was not paved then and still isn’t. There are no modern homes or strip malls. I loved the natural vegetation and the peaceful vista. After following the road for about 10 minutes, it curved to the right.There were huge sycamore trees on both sides of the road leading into a tiny tucked away village that dates back about 1,000 years or so. The village of Vilarinho had a small plaza and a well. There was a post office on one side of the square, a beautifully restored church ( I wished that I could have seen the original), and many whitewashed granite and concrete homes. I saw that most homes featured modernized interiors. Past the church was the cemetery and large fields of many crops. At first, the residents were very curious but warmed up and became very friendly offering stories of the village, the farming, and tales of the relatives buried in the cemetery. As I walked the village and farm grounds they kept their eyes on this “stranger”, but they were very happy when I expressed such interest in their lives, homes, and their lovely village. A side trip is always a travel bonus and is one of the rewards of going off on your own to mix with the locals.