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Built in 1857, this historic, wood-beamed pavilion enjoys a park-like setting right on the beach. Folding French doors create the feel of open-air dining, and the simple but satisfying menu (salmon, filet mignon, duck breast, and burgers) gives you the impression that you’re dining at your own private club. One of the west shore’s most photographed locations, the outdoor bar at Chambers is also one of the area’s biggest party spots on summer weekends. Arrive by boat or car, but if you’re the designated driver, steer clear of the infamous Chambers Punch, a lethal concoction of rum, orange juice, and pineapple juice. Note: The restaurant is open May to September only.

If you’re keen on buying moderately priced tea sets and a variety of Chinese teas, this massive indoor market is the place to come. Charming it’s not—it can be crowded and the stalls are fluorescent-lit—but hundreds of teas from across China are sold here. Sip malty pu’er tea from southern Yunnan Province, vegetal longjing green tea from the fields of Hangzhou, and floral jasmine from Fujian Province. Most shops sell teas in quantities of 100 grams, though you’ll get a better price if you buy half a kilo. Although Beijing is easy enough to navigate on your own, this is one place where, if you don’t speak Mandarin, a guide is extremely helpful.

Set in a former icehouse in the Mallory Square shopping area, this store stocks shells galore (ones found in the Keys and others from around the world), as well as jewelry made from shells, coral and shark’s teeth. There are also sea-themed home furnishings.

The choice of whether to build a church following a Gothic Revival or neoclassical design involved more than just aesthetics in 19th-century Québec. The former tended to be associated with Protestantism, and so the construction of the Catholic Basilica of Notre-Dame in that style raised eyebrows. When the St-Jacques Cathedral was destroyed by fire in 1852, the architects who designed a new church for the site, the Mary Queen of the World Cathedral, opted for the neoclassical style that was more typical of Catholic buildings. Constructed from 1874 to 1895, it is a quarter-scale version of St. Peter’s in Rome, complete with coffered vaults and twisting columns in imitation of those of Lorenzo Bernini’s baldachin in the Eternal City. The building’s green copper dome makes a statement, too, looming as it does over the largely Protestant neighborhood. The stucco crucifix by sculptor Philippe Hébert is one of most important works of art in the church.

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.

The most enviable address in Waikiki, the beachfront Halekulani is all about restrained elegance and pitch-perfect service. The hotel dates back a century, though it was entirely rebuilt in the 1980s—and the room decor—fifty shades of white and plantation shutters framing the turquoise sea—complements the scene outside. The beach itself is small and usually mobbed, but the pool is a dream—a giant oval big enough for laps, and quiet enough (few kids here) for a long doze under your chaise’s umbrella. The grassy courtyards and seaside restaurants are just as improbably serene; some might say stuffy, but for others, the reliably hushed atmosphere is a welcome tonic to the hubbub of Waikiki, just outside the Halekulani’s marbled entrance.

While this complex for the Cao Dai religion—which was founded in Vietnam in 1926 and combines elements of a number of other faiths—includes offices and a clinic, the real draw for tourists is the great temple. The giant, bright, surreal building is located some 50 miles northwest of Ho Chi Minh City and it is the most important shrine for the religion’s 2 million followers. The temple has an eclectic design, with front towers that resemble those of a mosque coupled with pagoda-style roofs along the sides. More striking still are the interiors, with brightly colored dragons wrapping themselves around columns and the ubiquitous symbol of a giant eye (the movement’s emblem is an eye inside a triangle), including on the large, orblike main altar.

Eighteen merchants band together here in Kakaako’s Ward Village mall, offering everything from a scoop of Froot Loop Vodka ice cream (Lucy’s Lab Creamery) to locally made board shorts (Salvage Public). One of the best places to find unique Hawaiian souvenirs, the South Shore Market shies away from tiki kitsch and instead taps into Honolulu‘s chic urban aesthetic. Travelers often appreciate the market’s long communal work table, complete with outlets and free, fast WiFi. Not to mention Scratch Kitchen & Meatery, which shares some classic recipes with its Chinatown counterpart, like milk-and-cereal pancakes and the cider-braised pork belly and apple pasta. But it also forges its own lunch-brunch path with indulgences such as a pillowy French toast stuffed with strawberries, mascarpone, and cream cheese.

Tango is as essential to Buenos Aires as pizza is to Naples, so the Anselmo Hotel is a perfect fit for the city, with its location in the heart of the San Telmo neighborhood—known for spontaneous street dancing—in a 1906 mansion once belonging to tango composer Anselmo Asiento. The hotel is perched on Plaza Dorrego, a lively public space surrounded by cafes and shops which especially gets going on Sunday, when the San Telmo antique fair and flea market spills into the street, attracting shoppers, musicians, and revelers. Clean-lined, modern furniture and black-and-white photographs of Buenos Aires compliment the building’s original wooden shutters and wrought-iron balconies. Sip a glass of Malbec in the cozy wood interior of the Acacia bar and restaurant, or take it outside into the calm inner courtyard. A small gym is available if you haven’t gotten in enough steps wandering the neighborhood’s cobblestone streets or tango dancing the night away.

Open every day for lunch and dinner, this casual spot next to the Fort Myers Beach pier has been around for more than two decades. Grab a spot on the outdoor terrace overlooking the sand for mango ceviche made with Gulf shrimp and bay scallops, or the more-adventurous gator tail platter. For an extra lively scene, go during happy hour at the grill or the twice-daily live music at Famous Blowfish Bar. With an always-on-vacation vibe, this spot keeps the party going from early until late.

This tiny joint on the Big Island serves what many consider the planet’s best poke (raw-fish salad). In fact, Yelp ranked it No. 1 among America’s top 100 places to eat in 2014. Go traditional with just salt, limu kohu (seaweed), and inamona (a roasted-candlenut relish) for toppings. Or opt for a more contemporary twist with anything from onions to avocado aioli, perhaps paired with a side of crisp kimchi cucumbers. Be forewarned: This casual spot runs on island time so don’t expect exact adherence to business hours.

Popular for fishing and shelling, this beach stretches under the Blind Pass Bridge, placing it on both Captiva and Sanibel islands. Swimming here is somewhat dangerous because of swift currents, but walking the shallows looking for pretty shells is a fine way to spend an hour or two. You can park on either side of the bridge to access the beach, but know that there aren’t any restroom facilities on the Sanibel half.

Locally owned and operated, Martha’s offers tasty, home-cooked food from the pleasant covered porch of a private home, in a roadside location handy to Sugar Beach and numerous attractions. Martha’s draws resort guests out of their comfortable rooms and creates a delicious detour for those on their way to visit nearby Sulphur Springs. Plates—heaped with breadfruit balls, fish cakes, panfried chicken or pork, or creole shrimp, and accompanied by at least three to four sides—are served at picnic tables. The prices are quite reasonable.

The Château Dufresne might not be high on most visitors’ lists of sights to see in Montréal, but as it is just across the street from both the city’s botanical garden and the Olympic Stadium, you may want to drop in if you are in the neighborhood. The mansion was constructed from 1915 to 1918 in the Beaux-Arts style popular in Montréal in those years. The 20,000-square-foot building is modeled on the Petit Trianon at Versailles and is actually two homes in one, as the brothers Oscar and Marius commissioned side-by-side mansions. The château served several different purposes after the Dufresne family lived there, first as a boarding school and later as the home of the Musée d’Art Contemporain. Today many of the rooms have been decorated with early 20th-century pieces, and a permanent exhibition provides an introduction of life in Montréal’s East End a century ago. Temporary exhibitions cover a range of topics, including some that highlight the collections of prominent Montréal patrons and others that focus on leading artists in the city.

Half market, half restaurant, this brightly colored kitchen proudly serves exemplary shrimp and grits and crab cake sandwiches, among a menu of locally sourced sandwiches and salads. After enjoying breakfast or lunch, take home a jar of pickled okra or fresh preserves. There’s a sister location on Hilton Head, and a farmstand on the way out of Beaufort, in case you forgot to pick up a taste of the South for your family back home.