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Tucked away in the heart of downtown Seoul is the quaint Insadong district, where a Korea of yore comes to life in the form of traditional artists and musicians, shops selling Korean crafts and souvenirs, and street performers dressed in native costumes. This is the place to go if you’re set on buying the wooden masks, paper lanterns, and tea sets that the country is famous for. Two other stores also stand out from the crowd in Insadong: Gounjae Handcraft can be smelled before you even enter the door. This handmade soap shop, in the small brick courtyard of Ssamji Gil Center, offers sumptuously scented soaps, lotions, and bath products in scents like avocado, ginger, and almond. I love the tiny, traditional mask-shaped soaps that make inexpensive and lightweight souvenirs. The Ee Gee boutique is a veritable treasure chest bursting with glimmering necklaces, bracelets, and other one-of-a-kind baubles–it’s located on Insadong’s main drag.

I hadn’t been awake for longer than a minute. I peeled back the tarp door to my room, walked out onto my deck, and leapt. It was an abrupt but purifying way to start the day. The cool, brackish water instantly defogged my mind, and my eyes opened to see the surrounding Tatai River and dense Cambodian rain forest. A lone sampan, anchored along an islet, was the only man-made object to interrupt the natural scenery. My chic bungalow lightly swayed on the calm water behind me, an incongruous encampment against the wild jungle backdrop.

Located on the southern tip of the Cardamom Mountains, near the Gulf of Thailand, the 4 Rivers Floating Lodge lives up to its name. The retreat’s 12 landless suites all float on their own buoyant platforms, moored to the riverbank. Outfitted with a ceiling fan, armoire, and wood-paneled shower, each of the towering, safari-style tented rooms also provides a nearly 360-degree view of the tropical landscape. A boardwalk connects the rooms to a central lounge and dining area decorated in a muted variety of Miami Beach sleek.

At first blush, getting to this secluded outpost might seem daunting. Guests can arrive by boat, drive, come by cab or take a bus from Phnom Penh: I took a five-hour bus trip from Phnom Penh, followed by a half-hour longboat ride from the village of Tatai. But the journey is well worth the peaceful reward. The Cardamom Mountains contain the largest and most intact evergreen rain forest in mainland Southeast Asia. For decades, the region was largely off-limits to developers because of land mines and fighting between government forces and the Khmer Rouge militia. This very isolation protected the area’s natural habitat, which is now home to scores of endangered species, including Asian elephants, hairy-nosed otters, and Siamese crocodiles.

Mine-clearance efforts and the end of hostilities have made travel here safe for more than 10 years, but it remains a sparsely populated frontier. The area’s remoteness is remarkable in and of itself. In the afternoon, I took a boat ride to the Tatai waterfall with several other guests. Even our skipper, a young Cambodian man who leads visitors on these trips every day, was still in awe of the lush surroundings. “So quiet and beautiful,” he said, looking at the palm trees along the river’s edge. After we arrived at our destination, I spent the rest of the day sitting beneath the waterfall’s forceful but soothing cascades, letting nature’s masseuse relax my muscles.

I returned to the lodge for dinner beneath an orange and purple sunset. On the restaurant’s uncovered patio, the only sound accompanying the clang of my utensils was the soft splash of kingfishers swooping to pluck fish from the river. I was less delicate, digging into skewers of mozzarella, watermelon, and fresh shrimp and a plate of steamed river fish topped with a basil cream sauce. In the lingering twilight, I sipped a gin and tonic on my private terrace before easing under my bedsheets. As the gently undulating waters rocked me to sleep, any illusions I had about roughing it in the wilderness drifted away. —Brendan Brady

The Great Wall of China runs more than 21,000 kilometers (over 13,000 miles), not as one continuous wall but rather as fortified wall sections. Some of the sections date back more than 2,500 years, though only 8.2 percent of the existing wall is original. The Mutianyu Great Wall is one of the more accessible portions. Hike (because that is what you’ll be doing, even on the wall itself) up the Great Wall, then slide down the side of the mountain on a toboggan. Alternatively, explore the Simatai Great Wall, which retains a more authentic feel—save, of course, for the fake water town at the bottom. Even more remote is the Jiankou section, which is largely unrestored, so book with an experienced group like Beijing Hikers or Wild Great Wall.

Even though Thailand is thousands of miles from Telluride, Siam has perfected an edible ode to the country. In fact, the food here is so good that 5280 magazine named Siam one of the best Thai restaurants in the entire state of Colorado. At this downtown spot, Thailand-born and -raised chefs cook the dishes of their home country, using as much local and organic meat as possible. The king crab and lobster tempura, pineapple-and-red-curry mussels, and peanut-dusted pra ram stir fry will have you so besotted with Thai cuisine, you’ll be digging for your passport to take the next flight to Bangkok.

A collaboration between two of Siem Reap‘s most stylish women, French-Cambodians Nathalie Saphon-Ridel and Sirivan Chak, Galerie Cambodge specializes in beautiful fair trade clothes and accessories made in Cambodia to the highest quality of workmanship. The women work closely with designers and artisans to source, design and produce natural, eco-friendly garments, accessories and gifts. Collections change regularly, however, you can expect to find anything from the lightest of cotton shirts and scarves that are ideal for Siem Reap’s sultry weather to sturdy handmade leather sandals that will survive years of temple scrambling. Not everything is made in Cambodia—the women have made a few exceptions, such as authentic Panama hats, direct from the source. Also handy for long days in Siem Reap’s blazing heat.

Tayrona National Natural Park has become such a popular destination during typical vacation periods that authorities have had to limit admission. But an off-season visit offers singular luxuries like miles of all-but-solitary beaches, jungle trails, and a unique way to observe a variety of monkeys and tropical birds in every brilliant hue. Tayrona can be experienced as a day trip from Santa Marta or as a several-night stay at one of the park’s accommodations. From the main entrance at Cañaveral (El Zaíno), visitors can take a leisurely hike to the ocean while a donkey handles the luggage; horses are also available for those who prefer not to walk. This same park entrance also leads directly to high-roofed, native-wood cabins known as ecohabs, a slightly fancier option for staying in the park.

Architecture lovers flock to the Huangpu River’s western side to stroll the Bund, a waterfront tourist magnet in central Shanghai. There’s a glorious mishmash of late-19th- and early-20th-century styles here, from Gothic revival to art deco. Walk by the Fairmont Peace Hotel—first opened in 1929 as the Cathay Hotel—to behold its copper pyramid roof turned aqua with age. (Talk about aging gracefully.) Then hit the marble-floored HSBC Building (No. 12) to admire the domed ceiling’s eight mosaic murals, with frescoes depicting the 12 zodiac signs.

Co-owned by French-Cambodians Nathalie Saphon-Ridel and Romyda Keth, the elegant Khmer Attitude was the first concept store in Siem Reap when it was opened way back in 2000 in Raffles Arcade. The women’s aim with Khmer Attitude (and Saphon-Ridel’s Galerie Cambodge in the same arcade) was to showcase quality Cambodian-made fashion, jewelry, accessories, silverware, silk, gifts, and objects that weren’t available anywhere else. The women work closely with Khmer designers, master craftsmen and artists to source and produce beautiful things that are luxurious in their materials used and excellent in their workmanship. Other than Romyda Keth’s Ambre, Eric Raisina, Garden of Desire, Jasmine, Theam’s House, and a handful of other boutiques, you won’t find exquisite things of this quality elsewhere in Siem Reap.

Forget everything you thought you knew about the food court: In China, mall restaurants are often quite good, with queues of hungry diners eagerly plotting out what they’ll order. Ban Ban, on the fifth floor of IAPM mall, is where it’s at. These dishes are Asian fusion, but healthy, bursting with color from a mélange of vegetables. The menu is labeled clearly, so you know what’s spicy or raw, and what contains nuts or dairy. Order one of the cheekily named bowls on the menu, like Hippie in Me and HCMC Is My Jam, or put together your own with a base of brown rice, greens, or soba noodles, a protein (tofu, beef, fish, shrimp, or chicken), and toppings from creamy avocado to sour pickled cucumbers.

Michael and I take the lead up a scree-choked stream draining from the Gangjam glacier. Two hours of climbing through talus brings us to ice-blue seracs rising like frozen waveforms from the mottled glacier. An hour further, in the cirque beneath the black wall of Kailash, we begin to sink up to our knees in sun-softened snow. Michael’s altimeter reads 17,500 feet, and above us, the mountain’s north face rises in a 4,000-foot vertical thrust of glazed rock, capped by a treacherous overhanging white cornice. Jaws gone slack, we lift our eyes in awe toward the Throne of Shiva. “How about it, bro? Break out the crampons?” “Jesus! I am not seeing a good route on that wall,” Michael replies, and we both laugh. Kailash remains one of the few legendary mountains on this planet left unclimbed—out of reverence. “And look at that freakin’ cornice!” Michael adds “Nevé ice for sure. Like frost on a windowpane. Won’t hold your points for shit.” There were rumors, nearly a decade ago, that the legendary Austrian mountaineer, Reinhold Messner had surreptitiously planned to bag Kailash, a task which he certainly had the skill and resources to accomplish. But when Messner saw the Precious Snow Mountain for himself, he realized what a desecration it would be to set crampons on its face or boots on its summit. He’s since become a vocal proponent of keeping Kailash off-limits to climbers in perpetuity.

On the desolate site of the 2010 World Expo, the Chinese government has transformed an old power station into an artistic gem. Power Station of Art (PSA) is the first state-owned contemporary art museum in China, so while that precludes shows that might be deemed too avant-garde, it also means admission to the big-name exhibitions is heavily subsidized—and sometimes even free! In addition to hosting the Shanghai Biennale, the museum puts on shows running the gamut from modern Danish design to punk rock history and works by Shanghai street artist JR.

The Blind Rabbit’s name is a wink to the Prohibition era, when some venues operated as theaters, doling out adult beverages alongside a “show” consisting of a real animal or statue. But actually, the hidden-away Anaheim bar is a hideaway that books reservations for Friday and Saturday nights weeks in advance. Walk-ins are welcome Saturdays and Sundays from noon to 4 p.m., and Monday nights are so mellow the bar feels like an friend’s place—albeit one with a dress code for men and women (no shorts, baseball caps, or rompers). Carefully acquired tchotchkes—including numerous rabbit figurines—put tipplers in a virtual time machine. At the copper bar, cocktails are served with care and plenty of pizzazz. The Drunk Night in Thailand, with a tamarind flavor and spicy finish thanks to Hellfire bitters and Sriracha, arrives in a plastic sandwich bag with straw, rubber-banded together. The fruity Wait For It cocktail is lit on fire. Don’t miss the popular Old Man & the Sea (bourbon, rum, Fernet, and cinnamon), which bartenders put into a custom-made cocktail smoker with applewood chips. And when you get hungry, don’t miss the fine bar bites, such as duck confit mac and cheese.

We weren’t quite lucky to see the snowcapped covered mountains in the lovely lakeside village of Pokhara since we visited during monsoon season. But it was a perfect way to start our introduction to the area and cross over to the trail leading up to the Peace Pagoda. Pay a few ruppees, pack a picnic lunch and guide yourself around the serene Lake Phewa.

In a city where gold-spired temples are much more ubiquitous than green space, Lumphini Park is a veritable oasis in the heart of Bangkok. Established by King Rama VI in the 1920s and completed after his death, the 142-acre chunk of tropical greenery is a treasured spot. One of the few parks of any size in central Bangkok, Lumphini is well used: In the morning, tai chi practicers arrive, while in the early evening, joggers monopolize the main path that runs around its perimeter. Even so, there’s ample room to get away from the crowds here. More than 30 species of birds flit among the park’s giant trees, and monitor lizards and turtles inhabit its waterways. Other attractions within the park include a public library, a youth sports center, and swan paddleboats in the man-made lake.

Experience the khlongs, or canals, of the “Venice of the East” on a longtail boat and you’ll get a special look into the heart of Bangkok. Most of Bangkok’s waterways were dug in the 18th and 19th centuries, and while some have been filled in and paved over, there are still an amazing number to explore. Several of them, such as Khlong Saen Saeb, go through the center of the city, and the Khlong Bangkok Yai, on the western side of the Chao Phraya, cuts through one of the oldest parts of town. Many tours leave from the central piers on the river and are no more than a couple of hours long.