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It’s one of the most recognizable facades on Passeig de Gràcia: a modernist fantasy of undulating stone, brightly colored mosaics, and stained glass—one that could only come from the mind of famed Catalan architect Antoni Gaudí. Designed in 1904 as a home for local industrialist Josep Batlló, the building pays homage to the legendary tale of Saint George and the Dragon. The balconies are reminiscent of skulls, and exterior columns look like bones—recalling the dragon’s human victims—while the roof’s arched shape and scale-like tiles mimic the dragon itself. The interior is just as fantastical, all sinuous lines and curving forms. To avoid the crush, try going first thing on a weekday morning, or shell out a bit extra for a Fast Pass timed ticket online (28.5 euros, or about $37—5 euros more than regular admission).

Built by Kaiser Wilhelm I in the late 19th century as a gesture to parliamentarians, Berlin’s famed Reichstag came into its own during the Weimar era—Germany’s first attempt at democracy. The parliament building burned under mysterious circumstances in 1933, leading to the suspension of civil rights and Hitler’s ensuing dictatorship. Seized and shot to pieces by Soviet troops in 1945, then abandoned during the city’s division, the traumatized building reentered public life when the German government returned to Berlin following reunification. Today the Reichstag stands proud, topped by a glass dome designed by British architect Sir Norman Foster as a symbol of political transparency. Going inside the dome is very popular; you can look down on plenary sessions as well as admire sweeping city views.

The dishes are as gorgeous as the environs at this Lincoln Park eatery, where chef and partner Lee Wolen serves contemporary American fare by way of seasonally driven and artfully composed plates. Grilled bass with charred eggplant and cucumber or slow-roasted-beef short ribs with gem lettuce and sweetbreads are just a few displays of the award-winning chef’s creativity—but he shares the stage with pastry chef Meg Galus, who centers her masterful desserts around one main ingredient of the season (like summer’s Blackberry, with huckleberry, black sesame, and crème fraîche, or autumn’s Pear with wattleseed, pistachio, and buckwheat).

Art-loving hikers and Instagram-posting skiers are fond of the Engadine Valley’s unique sgraffiti, decorative murals found on the exterior plaster or stucco walls of chalets and other buildings. They range from 500-year-old pastoral scenes to 20th-century brutalist depictions of railroad workers and hoe-clutching farmers. Typically, these works are made by scratching through the building’s surface to reveal a sub-layer of a contrasting color. Some of the best sgraffiti are found in the most remote villages, and generally, the closer you get to the Italian border, the more you’ll see. Engadine native Josin Neuhäusler is a sgraffito artist who also gives tours of the works.

It’s taken awhile for Marrakech‘s industrial quarter to establish itself as home to the best design workshops and ateliers in the city. It’s easy enough to get to, but petit taxis tend not to frequent its wide, blocky avenues, so getting back into town can be a pain. (Securing a driver who is prepared to wait or come back for you helps.) That said, it’s well worth the trip to shop with local tastemakers for furniture and housewares at flagship stores. Don’t miss Chabi Chic for groovy pottery sets; Le Magasin Générale for bigger items, such as the midcentury modern chairs and sideboards; and LRNCE for hand-painted vases that merge cubism with artisan savoir faire. Take in the ateliers of textile and garment makers, too, such as Angie Linen for gorgeous bespoke bed linens, and Salima Abdel Wahab and Topolina for a contemporary spin on traditional kaftans and must-have housecoats. Stop at Le Zinc, the neighborhood’s buzziest lunchtime bistro, before hitting Voice Art Gallery to peruse superbly curated exhibitions of North African and Middle Eastern contemporary artists.

The mission of the Popular Art Museum is to introduce visitors to the rich array of traditional arts and crafts made by Salvadoran artists, as well as emerging art forms. Sculptures, paintings, weavings, jewelry, clay work, masks, and works made with paper form the bulk of the permanent collection, with temporary exhibits taking a closer look at particular art forms. The museum is very family-friendly, hosting regular craft-making workshops for children and adults.

Huge and imposing—in fact, one of the largest wooden buildings in the world—the Todaiji was founded in 752 C.E. As big as the structure is now, it’s still only two-thirds of what it originally was. Besides being notable for its size and UNESCO World Heritage Site standing, the temple houses one of Japan’s greatest artistic treasures, the 15-meter-tall (49-foot-tall) Daibutsu. Usually, throughout Asia, the bigger a statue of Buddha is, the worse it is artistically. The Daibutsu, a staggering work of bronze art, is an exception. When it was first conceived, the Japanese themselves weren’t quite good enough with bronze, so they brought in Korean artists to bail them out. A don’t-miss spot.

The Villa Grimaldi Memorial and Park for Peace occupies the site of a former interrogation and extermination center operated under Chile’s 1970s and ’80s-era military dictatorship. A wall lists the names of the prisoners who died here, and there’s a garden with a rosebush for each woman executed or “disappeared” that was inspired by survivors’ stories of being able to smell the roses outside their cells. Willows convey sadness engendered by the unspeakable crimes committed on the property. (Only the foundations of the original estate remain, but a model can be viewed.) A focal point of the garden is a gigantic tree that was burned down but somehow survived and grew back to its present-day height of more than 50 feet, a symbol of the indomitable human spirit.

If you had to choose one place to symbolize Rio’s Belle Époque, it would be this sumptuous café, a must-do for every downtown visitor. Built by a Portuguese family in 1894—when Rio still evinced the splendor of a former imperial capital—its art nouveau–inspired refinements like huge mirrors, imported from Europe, wood furnishings, immense chandeliers, and stained-glass transoms welcome patrons. Colombo is all so terribly majestic you could be at one of the Continent’s grand salons or even the Tortoni in Buenos Aires. Perfect for afternoons over a pastelzinho de Belém, Lisbon’s traditional sweet egg tart.

When temperatures soar, the best thing you can do for yourself, and anyone you are with, is to buy a pass to one of the hotel pools. The Riad Alkantara is situated at the heart of the medina and offers a long, deep, aquamarine-colored pool surrounded by a small but lush garden busy with butterflies and warbling songbirds. It’s usually very tranquil, but it’s worth arriving around 11 a.m. to be sure of a sun bed in high summer. Note also that service is painfully slow, so if you want to order a simple lunch (sandwiches, salads) be sure to order at least an hour and a half before you actually want to eat.

In the Ville Nouvelle, the Marriott is another good option and a better bet if you have kids in tow, as it has a shallow pool for children as well as a large pool for adults. Plentiful sun beds, not to mention a decent Italian restaurant that serves cold beers and chilled Moroccan wines as well as child-friendly pizza and pasta, add to the perfection. The Hôtel Les Mérinides is situated high on a ridge above the medina and it has a medium-size pool surrounded by a dining terrace with expansive views. It’s more exposed than the other two, but rounding off the day up here with a gin and tonic as the sun goes down over the ancient city is arguably one of the most magical summertime experiences you can have.

Finally, if time and budget allow, it’s worth booking transport to ferry you out to Dar El Mandar, less than an hour’s drive away from the city center, near the Middle Atlas town of Imouzzer (pass price includes lunch). Perched on a hillside overlooking the Saiss Plains, you can spend a delightful day lolling poolside amid terraced gardens dotted with cushion-strewn Berber tents for those all-important afternoon siestas.

Out of the tragedy of the plague arose the Karlskirche, perhaps the most magnificent of Vienna’s baroque churches. One of the final designs by Johann Bernhard Fischer von Erlach, the genius behind the Schönbrunn Palace, Karlskirche commemorates the outbreak of 1713. The Karl who gave the church its name was the Counter-Reformation’s Saint Charles Borromeo, who cared for plague victims in 16th-century Milan. The church dome, rising above two columns inspired by Trajan’s Column, is illuminated at night and is a prominent Vienna landmark which be seen from many points in the city. A vibrant fresco in the cupola by Johann Michael Rottmayr glorifies Saint Charles. On Karlsplatz, in front of the church, two of the legendary architect Otto Wagner’s finest art nouveau metro stations remain; one of them now houses a café.

Those who just stumble upon the Hundertwasserhaus apartments in the Third District will likely be wowed by the buildings. Friedensreich Hundertwasser’s funky, mid-1980s organic housing complex is weird and gorgeous with a wavy, eclectically painted facade that looks like something out of a cartoon. With trees growing on its terraces and roof, it’s the antithesis of staid imperial Vienna. A freethinker if there ever was one, the artist, architect, and environmentalist Hundertwasser could be called Austria’s Gaudí. Visitors can learn more about him in the ground-floor café. Nearby, Hundertwasser designed the Kunst Haus Wien art museum out of an old Thonet furniture factory, while up the Danube Canal an incineration plant’s chimney got the Hundertwasser treatment with trippy colors and a funky golden ball on top.

The Celts were in Austria long before the Romans were, but it was the latter who left a more lasting imprint. With a population of 30,000 at its peak, the Roman legion camp of Vindobona was considered the edge of the world. As old as the Roman presence in Vienna is, the Römermuseum only dates back to 2008. On the Hoher Markt, one of the oldest squares in the city (and one with a fabulous gilded baroque fountain), the museum lies right over the Roman officers’ compound. Displays on everything from cooking utensils to toys are enhanced with a 3-D film on life at the time. Across the square, the Ankeruhr, an intricate and gorgeous art nouveau mechanical clock, was erected in 1914 on a bridge joining two sections of the Anker insurance building.

The Stari Grad (or Old Town) of Kotor is steeped in history, from the Venetian lions standing guard at the entrance to its piazzas with names like Square of Flour and Square of Weapons after the items that were once traded there. The labyrinth of stone streets winds past impressive palaces, ancient churches, charming shops and cozy cafés; for guided tours head to the Tourist Center kiosk in front of the Sea Gate.

From the outside, the Royal Ontario Museum appears to have been struck by a mineral formation from outer space. When the original building was overhauled by starchitect Daniel Libeskind, many locals were dismayed by the new addition, called the Michael Lee-Chin Crystal, but most have come around to its angular charms. Visitors to this museum of world cultures and natural history can work their way through galleries showcasing Chinese sculptures, Canada’s First Nations artifacts and crafts, dinosaur skeletons, and Byzantine artwork. Special exhibits have included everything from the intricate textiles of Mexico to an in-depth look at the culture of tattoos.