Search results for

A UNESCO World Heritage site in a mountain valley about 40 miles west of Da Nang, My Son is a vestige of the Champa kingdom, a culture that was heavily shaped by Hindu beliefs and practices. Built between the 4th and 14th centuries, the temples pay homage to the god Shiva, though the deity is often referred to here by different names. While some of the shrines are partially restored, and others overgrown with greenery or showing their age (many were destroyed by American bombing during the Vietnam War), the sheer scope of the ruins are proof of the reach of Hinduism and the lofty ambitions of the Cham kings.

Panama City’s seafood market stands near the halfway point along the Cinta Costera, so the goodies on offer can be your reward after a long walkabout. Since colonial times, fishermen who sold the city its seafood have anchored here; there’s now an up-to-date market home to nearly a score of open-air stalls where customers chow down on ceviche, fried corvina fish with patacones (fried plantain rounds), filete a lo macho (fish filet in a shellfish ragout), and those same patacones, now stuffed with shrimp or much-celebrated shellfish guacho (think a tropical risotto). Don’t expect anything ritzy: This is plastic-chair-and-table country, but the food is so delicious that you won’t be thinking about the ambience.

During the many years I lived in Dubai, I must have sipped drinks on the wide, breezy veranda of Bahri Bar hundreds of times. It was the bar I took my many visitors to Dubai—from my Mum to my old school friends—on their first night in the city and on their last. On the first night it was all about setting the scene and creating an impression and on the last it was about making my guests already start to miss Dubai—and thereby ensuring they returned again to visit me! Although an expat favorite, it’s undeniably touristy. But there are few lovelier ways to start a vacation in Dubai than settling into a cushioned chair on a deck strewn with Oriental carpets and dripping with lanterns, sipping a glass of wine, a cocktail or icy cold beer, and feeling the warmth of sun on your face and a breeze wafting in from the Arabian Sea. The interior of the colonial-inspired bar is sumptuous and that’s where you’ll want to retreat during the warm (i.e., scorching hot) months of spring and summer. But in the cooler months (i.e., the beautiful stretch of weather from November to April) you need to snag a table on the veranda for views of the abra boats cruising on the man-made waterways, the striking sail-shaped Burj Al Arab, and the sublime sunset. Make sure you book a restaurant for dinner somewhere else, or you might never leave.

Yes, New Mexico actually has an official “state question"--since 1996, referring to the ubiquitous chile sauce, it’s “red or green?” Fortunately you don’t have to choose just one; the local way to say ‘can I have both’ is just one word: “Christmas.” If you’re driving through New Mexico on the way to Arizona and points beyond, the only town of any size on I-40 between Albuquerque and Flagstaff is Gallup. For road-trip food here, get away from the Interstate and its humdrum chain restaurants. Seek out Jerry’s--a block off old Route 66. You can’t miss the retro neon sign, and there’s often a line out the door for its New Mexico-style fare. Gallup is surrounded by Navajo, Hopi, and Zuni lands--you might well be one of the few non-Native-Americans eating here at breakfast or lunch. The restaurant allows local vendors to come in and show their wares--usually jewelry and bracelets--while you eat. (You can request a ‘do not disturb’ sign for your booth if you want.) “Hole in the wall” gets overused, but Jerry’s definitely fits that description. Nothing pretentious here--but the flavor of the chile sauce is as good as you’ll find in Albuquerque or Santa Fe. A recommendation: the flat cheese-and-onion-enchiladas, topped “Christmas” style with a fried egg on top. And don’t forget to sop up the sauce with the sopaipillas, saving some of the frybread to top with honey as a dessert afterwards...

College-town hiking aficionados usually know where to eat, so when the guys up the street at Babbitts Backcountry Outfitters told me this was one of the best places in town for weekend brunch, I went. A lunch-and-dinner place during the week, Criollo Latin Kitchen opens up on weekend mornings with offerings from blue corn pancakes to pork belly tacos, with poblano cheddar grits, sweet ancho chili sausage gravy, and Haitian ‘ti-malice'-inspired relish to go with eggs over easy. And along with the artists’ paintings that change monthly, the food is “local” as well—the menu and the chalkboard on the wall will let you know the ranches and farms in Arizona and Colorado that are the sources for Criollo’s organic ingredients. On this particular morning, I had the “huevos motuleños,” the Yucatán’s version of “huevos rancheros.” And get some bacon—it’s hearty, comes from Black Mesa Ranch in the White Mountains, and will make you want to bring the word “toothsome” back into popular usage. Even if you’re just passing through Flagstaff on your way to the Grand Canyon, or driving from Albuquerque to Los Angeles, Criollo is worth a stop. It’s just a block north of historic old Route 66 downtown. (Criollo is owned by the same folks who opened the nationally-renown “Brix” just up the street—Flagstaff is becoming a restaurant mecca—and its newest sister restaurant is “Proper,” way down the road in Tucson. “Taco Tuesday” evenings with inexpensive margaritas can be crowded.)

Laurel Hill Cemetery is a hidden gem that many locals don’t know about, and those who do have put it on their bucket list of places to go. The cemetery is also on many “first” lists: The first planned rural cemetery for the city. The first architecturally designed cemetery in the US. The first US cemetery designated a National Historic Landmark. A sprawling 78 acres of hillside overlooking the Schuylkill River, Laurel Hill is now within the city limits but when conceived in 1836, this area was considered a rural suburb. Laurel Hill was the final resting place for Victorian gentry, Civil War generals, a signer of the Declaration of Independence (who was re-buried here), architects, spiritualists and industrialists, and local hero and beloved Phillies sportscaster Harry Kalas (on whose grave are blue seats from the old Veterans Stadium). To appreciate the architecture of the tombstones and mausoleums, visitors can wander the winding paths on a self-guided tour. Download a map from the website or get one in the gift shop (Yes! There is a charming gift shop). Or consider checking the website for unique and informative tours, held year-round. Spring and fall are the best times to go; the grounds are elegantly landscaped and maintained. If you drive, there is a parking lot across from the cemetery’s gatehouse entrance. By public transit, Septa’s Route 61 bus from Center City stops near the entrance. There is a small museum across from the gift shop that shouldn’t be missed.

The Heladería de Lares, a 45-year-old family business, sells about 50 unusual flavors of ice cream up in the mountains. Salvador Berreto, known to the locals as Yinyo, founded the shop to commemorate the Grito de Lares, a battle for freedom that had taken place exactly one century before. Yinyo started with corn, a flavor at the heart of the Puerto Rican diet and the current bestseller. Other flavors are cod, coquito (the Puerto Rican version of eggnog), and rice and beans. Fortunately, you can taste two flavors before deciding what to buy, and the ice cream is cheap, so you can stock up. Every weekend, people form what locals like to call lines, but are really boisterous blobs extending half a block down from the shop’s entrance. While eating, people skim through newspaper clips about when Denise Quiñones, a girl from Lares, won a Miss Universe pageant, or study photos of the 1945 Fuego de la Candelaria (a fire in Lares). After reading about the history behind Lares’s anthem and running their hands over the guiro (a musical instrument played by scraping its serrated surface), people often wander outside to the Plaza de la Revolucion. Here, on a typical Sunday, artisans sell paintings of the three magi (the Puerto Ricans’ second Santa) and of flamboyanes (the national trees with orange flowers). If you have doubts as to whether it’s worth it, just ask Bill Clinton and his daughter Chelsea. In 2008, Clinton forced $100 into the hands of Yinyo’s son for a mango ice cream.

The sun sets over Istanbul as I am coated head to toe with aromatic clay and served fresh fruit sprinkled with pistachios under the heavenly dome of a 457 year old hamam. Tenderly, my attendant washes me before lathering my body with olive oil soap and encasing me in a plume of ticklish bubbles. Like a mother to a child, she washes me again as the call to pray of the Blue Mosque and Aya Sophia echo outside. This is ‘life’ at the Aya Sophia Hurrem Sultan Hamami. The hamam is named after the famous 16th-century Ottoman icon Hurrem, or Roxolana as she is also known. Hurrem went from slave girl to favored concubine, to legal wife of the most popular Sultan Suleiman. She gave birth to princes and princess and greatly influenced the politics of the Ottoman Empire. The hamam was built by Ottoman architect, Mimar Sinan to honor her in 1556. It is nestled between the Blue Mosque and Aya Sophia. The hamam offers 5 star packages with 5 star services that leave you completely blissed out. I had the uber-relaxing 90 minute Ab-I Hayat Package consisting of wash, body mask, scrub, bubbles and 40 minute oil massage. Whilst other hamams are cheaper, you won’t be disappointed here. Private changing rooms and massage rooms, golden bath bowls, silk and cotton towels, tasty blackberry sherbet drink—the personalized service is truly special. With the motto, “Some rituals never die” the hamam’s luxuries will leave you feeling like Sultan Hurrem herself.

Centuries-old catacombs decorated with human bones pepper the crypts at this Franciscan monastery dating to 1774. Decked out in impressive Spanish Baroque architecture, the canary-yellow church and monastery also house a remarkable library with some 25,000 antique texts (some predating the Spanish Conquest) and are flush with romantic courtyards and cloisters. Don’t forget to look up: A magnificent Moorish-style cupola, carved of Nicaraguan cedar in 1625, oversees the main staircase.

Reservations required—and no wonder. The tours at the Neon Museum sell out months in advance. A walk through the museum’s famous “Boneyard” (where neon goes to die) is fascinating, from motel row to the first integrated casino (one that shut almost as soon as it opened), and the Stardust, with its nuclear testing-inspired font. All of this comes alive thanks to the museum’s famous docents, all art history buffs with loads of family history or other personal anecdotes.

Facing the Arabian Sea and the Gateway of India monument, the Taj Mahal Palace Hotel blends Moorish, Florentine, and Indian architecture. The historic palace wing reopened in 2010 with 243 new rooms and 42 suites, including one that houses the sitar on which legendary Indian musician Ravi Shankar composed his Concerto No. 1. George Harrison checked into the Taj in 1966 to take lessons from the maestro.

One could argue that the Pulitzer Amsterdam isn’t actually one hotel. Before 1960, each of its 25 buildings was an individual, 17th- or 18th-century merchant canal house. Painstaking renovations over the years have guaranteed that each room feels distinct, maintaining original architectural details from each house, such as arched windows, exposed beams, and friezes. And, from the outside, each house still looks separate, so that the glamorous, art-filled hotel blends right into its surroundings, seeming to be just another of the neighborhood’s picturesque historic buildings.

The recently restored hotel has entrances on and views over two of the city’s main canals—Prinsengracht and Keizersgracht—with a tranquil garden in the middle. The 225 guest rooms blend traditional and modern Dutch craftsmanship and service, while the authentic restaurant and bar showcase local flavors. Located in the heart of Amsterdam’s historic city center, the hotel is within easy reach of the Rijksmuseum, Stedelijk Museum, Van Gogh Museum, and the Anne Frank House. It’s also a quick walk, bike, or boat ride to the fashionable Nine Streets, the quaint shops of Jordaan, the flower market, and the Royal Palace.

Even with Segway tours rolling through and street performers loudly competing for audiences, the 15th-century Piazza Navona somehow retains a shred of grace and elegance in modern Rome. Calm Renaissance palazzi face the piazza’s centerpiece, the famous and complicated Bernini work, Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi (“Are these colossal male depictions of the four great rivers of the world writhing on top of a boulder not fancy enough? Let’s top it with an obelisk for a little visual interest.”). The piazza itself was created when a 1st-century arena was paved over to create a market square—you can still sense the oval track of the arena in the shape of the opening. Come for a gelato and some excellent people-watching, especially in the evening.

The roots of this Mediterranean Revival-style boutique hotel go back to 1914, when a local grocer created the tropically inspired property to house his visiting vendors. Nearly a century later in 2010, hotelier and style guru Liz Lambert added the place to her mini-empire, reviving the grounds that still feature magnolia, palm, and cypress trees planted by the original owner. Set on a quiet section of the River Walk near the museum corridor, the restored building (which is on the National Register of Historic Places) houses 27 guest rooms decorated in a designer-meets-flea market aesthetic, with bright pops of color and plenty of personality. All are pet-friendly, and feature stocked SMEG fridges, Red Flower bath amenities, custom serape bathrobes, and complimentary coffee and Wi-Fi; suites have sitting areas, terraces, or other perks. Room service comes from the in-house Ocho restaurant, but it’s better to head down and eat there in person to take in the cheery setting, river views, pan-Latin menus, and cocktails that highlight rum (as a nod to Havana) and tequila (an homage to San Antonio’s Mexican roots). A regular calendar of happy hours, musical performances, and cultural events round out life at this vibrant hotel.

It’s an unforgettable experience: Getting up at the crack of dawn in mid-winter, walking through the large municipal park on the Pest side of town, checking in to the Széchenyi Thermal Bath (mostly with Hungarian pensioners because tourists usually arrive later), and slowly easing into one of its three large outdoor hot spring pools, surrounded by the golden yellow neo-Baroque palace—built in 1913 for the baths—while old men playing chess in the water. Then watch as the sun rises slowly, and your breath dissipates into the cold, crisp air. The spa has 15 indoor baths, too, as well as 10 saunas at various temperatures. This spa isn’t about being posh, it’s about easing into the kind of everyday self-care that Hungarians have known and avidly practiced for centuries. Just join them.