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For a New York experience that’s equally extravagant and convenient, visitors should consider a stay at this five-star hotel, located just blocks away from Midtown Manhattan sites like Central Park, the Museum of Modern Art, and Carnegie Hall. Built in 1904 by John Jacob Astor, the Beaux-Arts building houses 239 rooms across 20 floors, plus an incredibly prized means of accessing each one—an original brass-and-marble staircase runs from the lobby level to the 19th floor (a development that cost Astor $1 million of his $5.5 million investment in the hotel). Once guests do land in their rooms, it will be tough to leave thanks to the signature butler service, available 24/7 for any number of requests, from the everyday to the once-in-a-lifetime. One of your asks should most definitely be a reservation at the on-site King Cole Bar, where bartender Fernand Petiot allegedly invented the Bloody Mary in 1934.

This extensive white-sand beach is the one Cancún locals love the most, and it’s still largely unknown to tourists. Bisected by a lengthy pier, Playa Langosta has calm, shallow, crystal-clear waters like most other beaches on the Cancún Hotel Zone’s northern side, making it an ideal escape for families with small kids as well as those who just want to lounge beside the sea. Restrooms and a playground are on-site, but beach chairs are not always available for rent, so consider bringing your own.

Amid the city’s 2008 construction boom, Delta Toronto is now at the heart of a brand-new neighborhood: South Core (or SOCO). The mixed-use area of condos and businesses sits near tourist attractions like the CN Tower. The hotel opened in late 2014, and the Canadian Delta chain is now owned by Marriott.

The 46-floor property was designed by architect Mansoor Khazerouni of IBI Architects, who drew inspiration from a glass of champagne. Look closely, and you’ll spot white flecks in the blue glass, like bubbles rising to the top of the building. In the interiors, you’ll see subtle odes to Canada, including a stairwell mural of Canada’s landscapes, from the West Coast to the Atlantic, created by artist Adrian Forrow; it’s a visual interpretation of a cross-country journey. The vibrant Brise Soleil mural in the lobby showcases Toronto landmarks including the CN Tower and Ripley’s Aquarium. Even the meeting rooms are named after Toronto’s neighborhoods.

A city crammed with ambitious young staffers willing to work long hours in hopes of shaping the country, Washington is a place that works hard and plays hard. One of the newest additions to its burgeoning boutique hotel scene, the Graham—its name a tribute to inventor Alexander Graham Bell—honors that tradition in retro-inflected style. The rooftop bar is a glam scene where the beautiful and powerful come out to play against the backdrop of the Washington Monument and Jefferson Memorial. The sultry downstairs restaurant–cocktail bar plays on the neighborhood’s historic aesthetic and the Mid-Atlantic region’s cuisine to attract discerning locals and visiting lobbyists. Rooms—mostly suites, of course—are pleasantly trendier than the District is used to, but bold pops of color and midcentury-inspired lines are balanced out by patterned wallpaper and elegant marble bathrooms that add a familiar dose of homey Southern style. Throw in a just-off-M-Street location, and the Graham just might be the quintessential Georgetown hotel.

For its much-anticipated first outpost outside London, the hip Hoxton boutique hotel brand—named for the trendy hipster neighborhood of its first hotel—chose five 17th- and 18th-century townhouses (including a former mayoral residence) on the canals of the Dutch capital. The brand has a formula that works, but rather than impose its signature style on another city—colonial-style, if you will—the designers have done it the other way around, imposing the buildings’ architectural styles and the city’s aesthetic on the brand. Original parquet floors, beamed ceilings, and wood paneling infuse the midcentury leather furnishings, geometric mirrors, and creatively patterned subway-tiled bathrooms with a Dutch feel, while the turquoise of the canal outside is reflected in the paint. Two rooms have original ceiling frescoes, and five have (non-working) fireplaces. In the ways that count, The Hoxton is true to its brand, such as bespoke toiletries, a scenester restaurant, a trendy bar, and its signature daily breakfast bag with a banana, granola, and orange juice.

Simple in concept, excellent in execution, the Brickyard at Mutianyu is a destination in itself, situated about a 90-minutes drive from downtown Beijing in a traditional village. Recovered tile pieces form mosaics that pop out from the red brick walls—a nod to the building’s former life as an imperial tile factory. Brickyard has a modern feel, with rustic Chinese elements that allow this hotel to blend in with the surrounding village. The eco-conscious philosophy carries through to the working organic garden on the grounds. The rooms are open-concept, one side composed entirely of floor-to-ceiling windows, with views of the Great Wall extending atop the hills in the distance. Trails used by locals lead right up to the wall (a rather challenging hike), with no guards around to collect entrance fees. The Brickyard Homes, once peasant homes, have been whimsically restored by the hotel owner. They invite Frank Lloyd Wright–esque comparisons for their ability to integrate spare Asian design into a modern context.

There’s a pleasing bit of cognitive dissonance happening at Meliá Hanoi. Housed within a green-glass, part-cylindrical tower, the hotel tempers sleek European-style hospitality (think streamlined gray and cream furnishings and high-tech amenities like flat-screen TVs and satellite channels) with touches of local influence: depictions of pagodas and traditional gateways figure in giant murals along the walls and central column in the lobby, and lantern-inspired pendant lighting hangs in the guest rooms. The hotel sits in theHoan Kiem district, within walking distance of the lake and the Old Quarter, making it an ideal base for urban exploration, but there’s also plenty on site to keep you occupied, from the Mediterranean buffet and the palm-fringed outdoor swimming pool to the fitness center and Marquee Club, a nighttime haunt that attracts young Hanoians intent on drinking and dancing into the wee hours.

Iguanas swim here in the ocean, which, separated only by a line of palm trees, nearly laps right up to the front of La Casa de Marita. The three-level building began 20 years ago as a house, literally Marita’s house. It has continued to expand over the years, adding a room here and a wooden deck there. The idea was not to create a large hotel, but a family-friendly inn that’s just friendly and comfortable enough that everyone feels welcome. They’re short of being luxurious, but the colorful, funky rooms have clay-tile floors and are equipped with eclectic wooden furniture; those on the ocean side have small balconies crisscrossed with hammocks. An on-site restaurant caters mostly to hotel guests, often preparing buffet dinners or beachside tables for groups or special occasions. There are a few chairs and tables with umbrellas on the beachfront, which doesn’t sound like a lot, but here, it is all one needs.

Fans of Georgia O’Keeffe should definitely book a stay at this quaint adobe hotel in her old painting grounds. Not only is there a well-stocked gift shop where you can buy O’Keeffe prints and books, the property arranges tours of her home and studio, and is located near the Ghost Ranch retreat center and the White Place rock formations, both of which the artist loved to paint. Wood-beam ceilings and New Mexico antiques adorn rooms. Request one of the cottages with wood-burning Kiva fireplaces, or if you come in winter and book economy like I did, you’ll likely get upgraded to a nice room with a gas fireplace. My best meal in New Mexico was also enjoyed here. I ordered trout stuffed with corn pancakes and a chardonnay from nearby Black Mesa winery. My partner’s chili rellenos with green chili and Monk’s Ale—brewed at the Christ of the Desert Monastery about an hour away—were also tasty. It was a lovely introduction to the beautiful state.

I’m not one to skip breakfast, especially in Italy, where thoughts of cappuccino, pastries, and local ham tend to rouse me early from slumber. But on my first morning at the Hotel Sant’Angelo, in the old quarter of Matera, I was having a hard time dragging myself from the creature comforts of my cave. Staying in a cave, it turns out, can be surprisingly pleasant. There was just one small window high overhead, but the room and adjoining bath were in no way dank—a testament to the natural ventilation that keeps the caves cool and comfortable. The wavy contours of the white tufa-rock walls conjured a feeling of being enveloped in some primordial womb. Yet there were modern amenities: luxurious linens, Internet service, a telephone. Fred Flintstone never had it this good. I might have snoozed until noon, were it not for an impatient mate eager to see the sights. We had arrived in the village the previous night after a long drive across the treeless plains of the Basilicata region, located at the instep of Italy’s boot. Matera is an enchanted world of Stone Age splendor. Known as the sassi (Italian for stones), the bisque-colored hilltop cave homes comprise one of the oldest continuously inhabited places on earth, according to UNESCO. The caves have provided shelter for more than 7,000 years. A millennium ago, shepherds inhabited them and carved churches into the rock; during the Renaissance, the area prospered and elaborate buildings were carved out, the excess tufa sculpted into ornate facades. By the early 1900s, the sassi had fallen into neglect. Families and their animals crowded into the caves for warmth, and disease was rampant. When writer Carlo Levi brought this tragic state of affairs to light with his 1945 book Christ Stopped At Eboli, the Italian authorities moved residents en masse to modern housing—leaving the sassi abandoned, save for the occasional crew brought by film makers (Pier Paolo Pasolini and Mel Gibson among them) in search of a biblical-looking backdrop. It was only in the 1990s that the Italian government encouraged people to move back. Residents revamped the cave dwellings as homes, restaurants, and inns. When the Sant’Angelo opened in 2004, it was the area’s first luxury hotel. The 19 cave rooms are sparsely but tastefully appointed with rustic wooden furniture. Some carved decorations—crosses, hearts, an owl—date back hundreds of years. Fossilized shells embedded in the walls reveal that the region once lay underwater. Eventually, my fiancé and I did emerge from our cave to wander the town’s ancient alleys. A local guide named Dora Cappiello took us into some of the 150 chiese rupestri (rock churches), where she pointed out wine troughs and frescoes of San Nicola, the patron saint of local shepherds. We also visited a cave dwelling that had been restored to resemble its state when the caves were equal parts manger and living space.
Simple, delicious meals punctuated our explorations. The curvy walls of Baccanti, a cave restaurant, created a private nook where we feasted on silky pappardelle pasta with a cinghiale (wild boar) ragu, accompanied by a dry, fruity red aglianico from the nearby Vulture wine region. Tired and sated after a full day, we headed back to our cave—on moonless nights, a flashlight or trail of bread crumbs is advised for the stumble back to the hotel—where the promise of a deep, sound night’s sleep awaited. —Amy Cortese Hotel Sant’Angelo, 39/0835-314010, from $211 for a double. This appeared in the March/April 2010 issue.

You may not know it, but as you peruse the stalls of vendors at Mercado San Juan, you just might be rubbing shoulders or vying for the plumpest, prettiest chayote with one of Mexico City‘s top chefs. San Juan is the market for serious home cooks and pro chefs alike. Here, you can find everything from just-off-the-boat fish and seafood to wild game. There have even been rumors over the years (urban legend or fact?) that if you know who to ask, you can procure true exotics here, including tiger and bear meats. If you’re not in the market for any goods to go, you can let your nose lead the way to a stall where prepared hot foods are sold. And don’t miss trying chapulines, toasted grasshoppers, which are a Mexican snack specialty.

You might have caught wind of some recent buzz about this contemporary patisserie with its unveiling of the haute dog, Craftsman and Wolves Chef William Werner’s upscale version of the classic American food (think better meat and a flaky, buttery croissant instead of a bun). Or perhaps you’ve heard people talking about a Mission bakery that served a savory muffin with a soft-cooked egg inside of it (it’s call the Rebel Within). Whatever the reason, head to Craftsman and Wolves for a changing menu of classic and innovative breakfast pastries, cakes, confections, confitures, desserts, lunch, and savory fare, with coffee, tea, hot chocolate, beer, and wine to wash it down. Craftsman and Wolves is open Mondays through Thursdays from 7 am to 7 pm, Fridays from 7 am to 8 pm, Saturdays from 8 am to 8 pm, and Sundays from 8 am to 7 pm. Can’t make it to Mission? Stop by the Ferry Plaza Farmer’s Market on Saturdays from 8 am to 2 pm or order through their online shop.

Want hot chiles? mild peppers? powder? paste? Across from the old Spanish mission in Tumacácori, you’ll find it. For decades, family-owned and family-run Santa Cruz Chili & Spice Co. has been providing flavors in Southern Arizona. There’s even a mini Western Museum...and of course, you can sample the sauces and salsas... The Santa Cruz valley, between Tucson and Nogales, is one of the oldest continually-farmed regions in the U.S.; for four thousand years, native peppers, beans, squash, cactus and corn have been cultivated, even here in the desert. Then, beginning in the 17th century, Spaniards introduced Mediterranean plants: grapes, figs, pomegranates, figs, quince...and cattle ranching. A small garden on the grounds of the Tumacácori mission across the road from the Santa Cruz Chili Co. still grows some of these heirloom crops. A visit to the mission and spice market make for a great afternoon or day trip from Tucson. Go south from Tucson on I-19 for about an hour. (Note: I-19 is marked in kilometers, not miles; quirky.) Take Exit 29, turn left, then turn north on the old highway, and you’ll see the big chile-pepper sign on the left, just before you get to Tumacácori mission National Historical Park. The store is closed on Sundays.

There are few places with as much ambiance as the Coffee House at McMurdo Station. When you drum up your ideas of what a coffee and wine bar in Antarctica should look like, this matches to perfection. I enjoyed my time there so much that I also spent numerous hours behind the bar serving up bottles of wine and lattes with an occasional biscotti to scientists, contractors, and several notables who traipsed through the Station as “distinguished visitors.” The building was once used as an exclusive Officer’s Club, but has since been opened up to the summer population of as many as 1100 people. After a cold day of work or weeks in a field camp, folks can warm up with a coffee or hot cocoa; often with a spot of Amaretto, Baileys, or whiskey thrown into the frothy mix. The fact that dry milk is the staple on station is usually secondary to the use of a ‘real’ espresso machine, and it also makes special deliveries of fresh New Zealand milk by friends in the Air Force all the more special. The coffee house culture runs deep here where people come to play a game of cribbage, socialize over knitting, chat with the bartender/barista, listen to live local music, watch a movie, or just escape from the weather.

Named for the champion Austrian skier, the ultra-luxe Fairmont Heritage Place, Franz Klammer Lodge pulls out all the stops for its spa, offering an oxygen bar in a mountain-view suite and an adults-only hot tub on a rooftop overlooking the surrounding peaks. Nearly every popular form of massage is available, from reiki to Himalayan salt to Swedish deep-tissue—a godsend après ski (or hike). Book a bespoke scrub (sugar or salt, with your choice of warm oil) to emerge feeling brand spanking new.